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He sat himself on a bar stool and ordered a whiskey on the rocks from the barman. The barman obviously sensed his turmoil and an ice cold glass of cool, amber liquid was placed swiftly in front of him.
He took a breath in and out, picked up the glass, had it half way to his lips when he heard something.
A piping voice from across the bar.
A piping voice that made him freeze and crane around to see.
“Pornstar martini, please.” It was arrogant and presumptive and far too familiar.
He looked up. It was her. Milena Zakarian. She slammed her tennis racket down on the bar and huffed herself into a bar stool, which was a fair bit too high for her, so it took a bit of thigh flashing to get herself there. Carmelo watched her bare legs as she settled onto the stool.
Well, Carmelo thought, he’d be damned.
She must have felt his gaze on her, because she looked up and over at him. When she caught sight of him she rolled her eyes.
“What areyoudoing here?” she huffed.
For a moment, he considered blanking her. Like she had done with him pretty much in their meeting earlier. Or he thought about coming up with some snarky comment and returning to his drink. However, he didn’t do any of those things. For better or for worse, he thought, he picked up his whiskey glass and sauntered over.
“Same thing it looks like you’re doing, Princess.” He nodded to the martini glass and shot glass that was placed in front of her.
She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “Well, the helicopter’s refueling so I have to wait for like an hour,” she said as she turned to him. “This situation my parents have dreamed up, I will have absolutely nothing to do with it, I have no intention of marrying you, the bozo golden boy cop, I don’t even know you-”
“-and there’s no fucking way I’m marrying you, either, the bratty daughter of a gang criminal,” Carmelo cut her off with anger in his voice, too.
She touched the stem of her glass with perfectly manicured, glossy nails and rolled her eyes again.
“I’m very happy being young, free and single, thank you very much,” Carmelo added and took a giant swing of his whiskey before his throat locked up with the lie he just told.
They both downed their drinks and then stared in angry silence into the bottom of their almost empty glasses.
She sighed, suddenly pensive, resigned, quieter somehow. He watched her out of the corner of his eye.
She took a sudden sharp inhale of breath. “But what did you think… of me, when you first saw me?” she asked, suddenly so vulnerable.
Carmelo couldn’t quite believe it was the same woman sitting in front of him. Suddenly a wide eyed child, wanting praise and reassurance.
“What, aside from the being associated with a notorious drug trafficking, arms trafficking, illegal mafia gang and being an entitled little-”
She tutted and huffed and pouted back down into her drink.
Carmelo let a half-smile curve onto his lips. “You’re fucking beautiful, Milena. You should know it.”
Carmelo watched closely as she pursed her lips to hide a little shy smile. She was almost… cute, he thought, surprised.
She took another breath, but this was slower, less impulsive. “I admit when I thought that I was going to be paired off with a bad-boy MC member,” her voice was lower than normal. Carmelo watched as she bit her lip before continuing to speak. “I…”
She didn’t finish what she was going to say but her body spoke volumes for her.
Carmelo blinked in disbelief, and watched as her pulse quickened, her hips angled ever so slightly, her back arched, her thighs rubbed together.
She looked at him directly now, a scathing look, and angled her neat arching eyebrows. “But you’re a cop. The clean cut ‘golden boy’ really isn’t me. I was looking forward to… a bad boy.”
Carmelo swirled the whiskey in his glass. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She had liked the idea of being forced together with a bad boy. She wanted a bit of rough from the other side of the tracks. A part of her had wanted something more than just the everyday, something more than what was expected of her, more than how people treated her. Just like he did. For a split second, a brief, sweet moment of reprieve, Carmelo felt a burden slipping off his shoulders.
Carmelo took another swig of whiskey. “Don’t worry Princess, I would have given you the ride of your life.”
She cast a scathing look over him, like he was a piece of dirt on her shoe. “No offense, but you are totally not what I look for in a guy,” she said.
