“Excuse me,” I say as I try to catch the bartender’s attention. The bartender, however, is more interested in the young girls prancing around than in me. I sigh and lean onto the bar ensuring that the girls are visible. “Excuse me,” I say again, but this time I use a sultry voice – or at least that’s what I’m going for. The bartender finally looks my way and I smile when I see his eyes immediately lured to my cleavage. Gotcha! “Tequila shot with a beer chaser, please.” He jumps to fulfill my order, but nearly trips as he attempts to maintain eye contact with my bosom and reach for the tequila bottle at the same time.
I hear someone chuckle beside me and turn to see a hotter than hot piece of male specimen staring at me. I immediately feel my face burn. The bartender saves me by slamming my drinks down in front of me. I grab the tequila shot and quickly down it before latching onto the beer to soothe my burning esophagus. Good thing I have lots of practice or I would probably spit the beer out like a college freshman during rush week, although I may have coughed just a teensy bit.
Sufficiently fortified, I turn to the man again and notice him watching me. He raises an eyebrow. “I tried that trick earlier,” he says, tilting his head towards the bar, “but the bartender didn’t seem impressed with my assets.” I look him up and down. “You look pretty hot to me,” I say and then slap my hand over my mouth when I realize my comment probably sounded like some lame pick-up line. “Sorry.” Is it possible for my face to spontaneously burst into flames? “Sometimes my mouth opens before my brain can stop it.”
The man laughs and shakes his head. He reaches out to shake my hand just as a loud, obnoxious bell rings. “That’s my cue,” I say as I jump off the barstool. I wobble a bit, and hottie reaches out to steady me with his hand on my elbow. I gasp as a current of pure electricity moves through my arm. I startle and nearly trip in my heels.
I manage to steady myself and smile at Mr. Dreamboat before going off to search for Jack. Before I can find him, I catch sight of another cocktail waitress. I grab a glass of red before locating Jack, who is surrounded by women who are obviously on the prowl. To the casual observer, he seems to be reveling in the attention, but I see his eyes frantically search the room before landing on me. I immediately stalk forward, grab his hand, and pull him away.
I was born and raised in Wisconsin, but think I’m a European. After spending my senior year of high school in Germany, I developed a bad case of wanderlust that is yet to be cured. My flying Dutch husband and I have lived in Ohio, Virginia, the Netherlands, Germany and now Istanbul. We still haven’t decided if we want to settle down somewhere – let alone where. Although I’ve been a military policewoman, a commercial lawyer, and a B&B owner, I think with writing I may have finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up. That’s assuming I ever grow up, of course. Between tennis, running, traveling, singing off tune, drinking entirely too many adult beverages, and reading books like they are going out of style, I write articles for a local expat magazine and various websites, review other indie authors’ books, write a blog about whatever comes to mind and am working on my fifth book.
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