Page 65 of Vince
Thankfully, there isn’t a line and when I flash the bouncer my ID, I’m let in with ease.
Immediately, I spot Sydney behind the bar, and relief washes over me. Damn, she’s beautiful. Her long, red hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and she’s pouring drinks like a woman on a top-speed mission. Her beauty and grace make it difficult not to stop and stare. There’s only one other bartender helping with this crowd, and he’s on the opposite side, busy with his own customers. The line behind the person she waits on is about five people deep.
As if she senses me, her eyes dart to mine and widen like saucers—but she doesn’t miss a beat with the drink she’s mixing.
Shit.
She doesn’t exactly look happy to see me.
I make my way to her line through the crowd to wait my turn. Her eyes dart to mine every few seconds, making me doubt my reasoning for being here in the first place. I have no fucking clue what to make of her expression. Sometimes, she looks happy to see me, yet I swear that’s not necessarily the case.
When I finally step up to the bar to place my order, her tone is cold and nowhere near her usual self. “What can I get for you?”
Shit. This isn’t good. “Uh… a Coke?”
Syd’s eyebrows raise to her hairline. “You came all this way to get a Coke… at midnight?” Yeah… she’s clearly not buying it.
Trying to sound playful, I smirk, “I was thirsty.”
“And you thought coming here would quench your thirst?”
Oh, that sass is in full force.
Having only ever seen her use this tone with my buddy Derek, I can’t say I’m thrilled with this kind of shade thrown at me.
In for a penny, in for a pound. “You do make the best drinks in town.”
“Hey, buddy? Are you ordering more or what?” a guy from behind me interrupts.
“Wait over there,” she demands, pointing to an empty barstool as she hands me a glass of Coke. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
Deal with me… shit, this really isn’t good.
“Okay.” I nod in agreement and take a seat.
At least I have an excuse to sit at the bar and watch her while the line behind me remains steady. There’s no telling if she’ll actually get to talk to me before closing time and as I watch, I’m not sure what reaction I’ll receive when she finally does get back to me. Sometimes, I’d swear she’s happy to see me, but the minute that thought crosses my mind, I’m gifted with an annoyed glare. Eventually, she ignores me altogether but then again, she’s slammed with customers.
I guess only time will tell.
To pass the time, I alternate from watching the dance floor as well as Sydney, so I don’t look like a total creeper. Sydney focuses her attention on the patrons in front of her. Occasionally, I’ll catch her eye, but she immediately pulls away—almost as if she doesn’t allow herself to look in the first place.
When a girl slides up to me and tries to make conversation, I barely get to respond before Sydney’s right there asking, “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Smiling, I use this opportunity to let the stranger realize I’m not interested. “I’m good, Syd. Just waiting for you.”
Immediately, the girl stiffens then turns abruptly on a dime in the other direction. It’s almost comical to watch her slither back to where she came from.
When she’s lost in the crowd, I turn my attention to Syd, and it’s all I can do not to laugh at her shocked innocence expression. Coyly, she grins. “Was it something I said?”
“No idea. But I’m glad she figured out the only one I’m interested in here is you.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Vincent Daniel Larson. I’ve still got a bone to pick with you—even if you are completely adorable when you act like a Neanderthal.”
“Neanderthal? Really?”
Pointedly, she puts me in my place. “Yes. Really. But since it’s only about thirty minutes to closing, you’ll have to wait until then so we can talk.”
Shit. Is it really that late? Glancing at my phone, I realize she’s right.
