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A waitress sauntered over. “What are y’all drinkin’?”
Celeste ordered first. “Jameson. Also, could I get an IPA? Thanks.”
Well, damn. I’d figured a “New York gal” like her, with her sharp fashion sense and haughty streak as wide as the Mississippi River, would’ve been all about the Cosmopolitans. “Sounds good. I’ll have the same,” I said to the server.
While we waited, I sat back and watched Celeste do everything she could to avoid eye contact. She studied her hands, the table, and the bar to our left, but her gaze flicked to me every few seconds. I suppressed another smile.
Come on, Celeste. Look at me. We’re at a bar; we can chat a little, right?
I searched for a conversation starter, but nothing seemed safe enough. What’s your story? Why is a woman like you fighting for a position like this? Too invasive. How long have you been in programming? No, might sound like I’m fishing for info.
Did you know how thirsty I was while I stared at your mouth? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, how often I look at you during the day? Why do you seem so sad?
Is there someone who makes you happy? Is there someone who can make you come so hard that you forget all your troubles?
“What is wrong with you?”
Celeste blinked at my whispered self-reprimand. “Sorry, what?”
Shit! Recover, quick! “What, ah, what’s wrong with—”
“Two Jamesons, two IPAs.”
I could’ve kissed that waitress for her timing.
Skye McDonald is my pen name for the series of novels I’ve written. Each of the books features its own protagonists, and can be read as a standalone novel; however, this seven-book-and-growing series is the world of a group of friends and family, and you will meet your favorite characters again in supporting roles as you progress through the books.