“How’d you know I—”
“The only people buying that Chiquita her drinks are suitors. And that is a one of a kind woman drinking a very unusual drink. At least for this kind of party.”
“What is it?” I asked, staring at the concoction.
“An Alabama Slammer,” he said. “And baby, I’m shocked that she’s still standing.”
Hmm. Maybe I had a chance of wooing…or rolling her into my bed. “Thanks. I owe you one,” I said, dropping a five into his tip jar.
He eyed my cleavage again and grinned. “If only. Whew. Mamacita, good luck with her. Watch out, I bet she leaves broken bodies in her wake.”
I turned and looked at Janelle. Her head was thrown back and she laughed long and loud into the night air. The guy next to her was grinning as if he’d just won the Lottery. But when her big blue eyes found mine across the party, she gave me a little finger waggle and then licked her lips.
Yeah. I had high hopes. They were possibly due to all the tequila, but a girl could hope.
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