Page 9 of Her Pretty Words
Right. “You’re an author. I’d assume you are both creative and imaginative.” I shrug.
Smooth jazz is playing when we enter the dimly lit hotel bar. There are six people here, all of whom appear to be in their sixties or older.
Macy clears her throat. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she whispers. “I saw a bar across the street that seemed a bit more…lively.”
I chuckle and place my palm on her lower back, leading her away from the dull room. “Should we go?”
She tucks her bottom lip in like she’s considering it.
“Say yes,” I encourage.
She blows out a steady breath. “Okay fine.”
As soon as the automatic glass doors open to the outside, cold air hits us, and Macy puts on my gray blazer. She practically drowns in the fabric. It’s longer than the dress she has on, showing off her thighs.
“I’ve never been to a bar like this,” she says when we near it.
I like the idea of experiencing a first with her, even if it’s as simple as taking her to a crowded bar. The door is already open and music floods outside.
Macy enters first, tensing at the environment. The smell of alcohol is strong, and the music makes it hard to hear anything else. She picks up her voice. “Should we go sit?”
I lean down so I don’t have to shout. “Sure,” I say against the shell of her ear.
I follow her through the crowds of people, noticing a few dancing.Maybe I’ll see Macy dance tonight.
We find two bar stools next to each other. I pull one out for her and she gives me a strange look.
“What can I get you?” a female bartender asks Macy.
She tucks her brown hair behind her ears. It makes her look younger. “What do you normally get?” she asks me.
Normally?This is beyond normal for me. I quickly skim the drink menu. “Listen, Tato, I’m going to reveal something about myself, but you need to promise you won’t tease me about it.”
Her eyes squint and then she nods.
“I know all these guys are drinking beer or whiskey, but honestly, I hate both. I was going to order a strawberry daiquiri.”
Her head tilts and she slowly smiles. “I like that,” she whispers. “Own it.”
I peel my gaze away from her, my stomach somersaulting. Maybe she’s starting to warm up to me. I press my palm flat on the bar top and say proudly, “I’ll take a strawberry daiquiri.”
“I’ll do one too,” Macy says. Then turns to me with a mischievous grin, “And we’ll take two tequila shots.”
I lean my head on my hand, widening my eyes at her.
“Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?” The bartender eyes me seductively, playing with her hair.
“Nope, all good here.”
After a minute, the bartender sets two small glasses in front of me. I grab both, handing one to Macy. She tilts her head back, slowly gulping the liquor and then slams the glass down. She scrunches her nose. I eye the salt on the corner of her lips and fight the urge to wipe it away. I take my shot and put my lime in my mouth like I’ve seen in movies.
Her big eyes look up at me as she sucks on the lime, scrunching her nose and shaking her head. “I’m going to vomit.”
The bartender sets down our strawberry daiquiris, but her eyes don’t stray from me. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can get you?”
“Yup.”
She props her head on the heels of her hands, leaning forward to show off her chest. Jesus, lady, take the hint. I steal a glance at Macy, who mindlessly sips the drink.