Page 71 of Fake Dating Adrian Hunter
“No.”
“That bastard.”
“What can I get you two to drink?” Samaya asks us. “More shots with dirty names?”
“No,” I laugh. “Definitely not.”
“We’ll take two fishbowls,” Darius orders. Samaya pulls out two round glasses the size of my head.
“Those better be for you,” I tell Darius. “I can’t be getting drunk tonight. I turned into a safety hazard the last time it happened. Besides, you heard Stacy. She’s been put on Verena-alcohol-patrol.”
Darius lets out a bellowing laugh, the sound so loud and startling that I know I must be missing something. “Verena, you’re hilarious.”
“What, the Stacy thing?”
Zac looks at him like he’s lost his mind. I might have to agree with him on this one.
Darius places a hand on my thigh, so high up that it’s almost touching my ass, and whispers in my ear, “No, you idiot. Not Stacy. I was trying to get Adrian’s attention. Pretend we’re laughing over some sexy joke.”
Zac sips his whiskey. “Verena is terrible at laughing on command.”
“He’s right,” I agree.
Darius leans back from me, allowing Adrian full visibility of my face. “Do it or I’m stealing the hairspray.”
Desperate times call for desperate measures. I laugh and pull Darius close, making it look like I’m whispering something dirty into his ear, when all I say is, “The hairspray is sacred in this climate. Please don’t steal it.”
“Good. Everyone is looking this way. Can’t tell if it’s because they’re starstruck by us, or because Verena Valentine is acting flirty with someone who isn’t her boyfriend.”
“Drinks are ready.” Samaya places two massive bowls of pink alcohol on the bar.
“Seriously,” I tell Darius, “I shouldn’t be drinking again this week.”
Zac gulps down the rest of his whiskey. “I’ll drink it if you’re not going to. Maybe I’ll feel something other than imminent doom for once.”
“Drink the cocktail slowly,” Darius tells me, which will be close to impossible since I just took a sip and the drink tastes like candy. “We need to come up with tomorrow’s plan.”
“Tomorrow?” I ask. “I’m too busy thinking about tonight.”
Zac steals the fishbowl from my hands and, after a long sip, leans back and starts singing in slurred sentences. “Tomorrow is dead. Shoot me in the head.”
“You better confiscate that drink from him,” Darius tells me.
“Why? I like drunk Zac.”
Darius pushes the fishbowl back to me and passes Zac a jug of water instead. “Tomorrow is the men-only golf excursion. We need to prepare for it since I’ll be the one doing all the work to make Adrian jealous.”
“Oh, right. I read about that in the schedule. Men at golf, ladies at the day spa. Um, okay, how about you make sure Adrian overhears you talking about me?”
“Shit!” Darius smacks a hand to his mouth, staring wide-eyed at something behind me.
“What?”
I spin around to find out what has Darius so shocked. Pain clenches my stomach at the thought of seeing Adrian kiss Isabelle. Instead, Darius points to a waiter talking to a group of people by the entrance of the cocktail lounge. Every other guest seems to notice too and goes quiet. It’s the police force. They’re here, having a serious discussion with the waiter and my two bodyguards.
“Oh, hey. Coppers.” Zac stands on two wobbly feet. “You think they’ll want to hear my song too?”
I push him back down on his bar stool, then hide my face behind my hands. “This better not have anything to do with me.”
