"You're not supposed to smell it. Drink it."
She took a sip but the reaction was the same.
"Guess bourbon isn't your drink either." Watching her struggle with the bourbon, Zack began to think nothing would be to her liking. "Do you drink at all?"
"Of course I do. Every night at home after work, and sometimes on Saturdays with friends."
"A glass of wine doesn't count."
She scowled.
He ordered a vodka and lemon. She had to like that—all women did.
She sipped. "It tastes like lemonade. I like it."
"Good. Now, I think you need to learn some bar etiquette."
"There's etiquette?"
"Of course there's bar etiquette. Starting with buying rounds for your friends."
"You're only saying that because you've been paying for all these."
He grinned. "Okay, you got me. But you should learn some other tricks of the trade." He leaned over and undid the top button of her white blouse. Her face turned a brilliant rose. "Better."
"Not from where I'm sitting."
"When you're talking to a man, lean forward seductively so he can see down your shirt."
"If we weren't in public I'd slap you right now."
"And sit as if you own this place."
She wrinkled her brow. "How do I do that?"
"Straighten you back, survey the room with disdain and look as casual as possible, no matter how drunk you get."
"Easier said than done." But she tried it anyway, glancing quickly around the room, then again, slower, with her nose in the air. A very cute nose, he noticed.
"Not bad. Do you smoke?"
"No. It's a disgusting habit."
"True, but it would help your image. Think about taking it up in the next few days."
She cocked an eyebrow at him. Cheeky, he thought. He liked that.
"Why are you teaching me all this stuff when Dug-E's too young to drink in a bar anyway?"
Good point, but he wasn't going to tell her that part had slipped his mind. He'd got carried away by his task, forgetting their objective. "Because drinking will give you respectability at parties, and Dug-E will pick up on that. Besides, the kid can probably drink you under the table. I could at his age."
She stood suddenly. "I need to go to the bathroom."
"Already? You've only had one drink and a few sips of beer and bourbon."
"Hey," she said over her shoulder as she walked off, "a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." She flashed a cheeky grin. Not watching where she was going, she bumped into a chair.
Too bad the man in it splashed his beer all over her or she might have got out of the situation with her dignity. As it was, Zack roared with laughter as she attempted to apologize and buy him another beer. In the end, the man settled for pressing a napkin to her br**sts.
Zack halted mid-laugh and stood. Time to intervene.
CHAPTER 6
"Lick, sip, suck."
Zack's words hummed in Annie's brain as she licked the salt off the fleshy part between her finger and thumb, swallowed the shot of Tequila and sucked on the lemon wedge he held out for her.
An image of herself sucking his fingers instead made her giggle.
"What's so funny?" Wow, his voice was so deep and sultry it rumbled in her chest.
"Me. You. Um, this. This Tequila's yummy. I love it. Especially the sucking part." She winked at him.
His eyes narrowed. "I thought you said you'd had it before."
"Oh yeah, I did didn't I."
"Annie," he scolded. "Don't lie to me about this, it's not going to make you cooler. If you're feeling tipsy, I want to know before we go any further."
"Further?" She waved a hand in front of his face, just missing his nose. He backed away and caught it, lowering it to a safer position. "I'm fine. This is nothing. My Dad's clients were always trying to get me drunk when they came over."
"I can imagine." He stared into her eyes until she pushed him gently in the shoulder.
"Don't stare."
"I'm checking to see if you're drunk. You're looking a little—"
"Zack!" The screech turned both their heads in the direction of the smiling blonde bouncing towards them. "Zack DiMarco is that you? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, hi Melanie. I'm uh, just having a drink with a friend."
Friend? She'd reached friend status? The night was getting better and better. Now, if only the room would stop spinning...
The blonde, Melanie, swooped on Zack and planted a kiss on his cheek. A long kiss. He pulled away and glanced at Annie. Hmmm, interesting. Was he worried about what she thought? But what he did next answered that question in the negative. He placed an arm around Melanie's anorexic waist and pulled her to him. The mounds of her high, round br**sts met him at eye level. He stared at them openly. Melanie giggled.
Annie rolled her eyes but her heart wasn't so cynical and it took a dive. So that's what he liked in a woman—big br**sts and fluffy white poodle-hair. The tabloids hadn't lied.
She didn't stand a chance.
Not that she wanted to have a chance. He wasn't her type—he was way too big-headed. And way out of her league.
She tapped her fingers lightly on the bar as she watched them chat easily. They seemed like old friends, and by the way Melanie draped herself over him, they'd probably been lovers. Or perhaps she just wanted to be.
If the situation wasn't already awkward enough, as the conversation dragged on, it became downright uncomfortable and even Zack seemed to want Melanie to disappear. He withdrew his arm and his smiles became strained.
It was time to lighten the moment.
"Um, excuse me, Melanie," Annie began. Zack turned first, then Melanie somewhat reluctantly when she realized he was no longer paying any attention. For the first time, the blonde seemed to notice he had a companion. "Um, can I ask you something? Something personal?"
Melanie perked up. "Ooh, I like these sort of conversations. What do you want to know, Sweetie?"
Annie tried to keep a straight face. "When you go swimming, do you float?"
Zack passed a hand across his face and groaned.
"Oh no," Melanie said emphatically, placing a palm over her bosom, "I never go swimming. It turns my hair green."
"How unfortunate," Annie said.
"It sure is! You're so lucky to have mousy colored hair."
"Mousy!" What a rude bi—
"Okay," Zack said, rising quickly, "I think it's time we left, Annie."