1
Alistair
Ienterthenoisyclub and beeline straight for the bar. I need a drink or ten. Today is the worst day of my life, and alcohol and sex are the only things that can salvage it. Or what little is left of it, considering it’s already past ten-thirty p.m.
The bartender I waved over pours me a glass of Macallan with a smile. Yeah, buddy, I’m going all out tonight, and you are getting your tips tripled. Or quadrupled, depending on how long it takes me to find someone to go home with.
I take a big swig of my drink, the ice clinking in the glass. The strobe and spotlights on the other side of the crowded club illuminate the dance floor, where people sway under the rhythm of a familiar-sounding upbeat song. They are smiling, shouting, making out with each other, their energy and good mood pouring off toward me in electrified waves.
Ugh. I wish I could be this carefree. Able to enjoy myself. In charge of my life and the decisions I make. I can’t believe my father didn’t even listen to what I had to say. He’s the one always going on about how I need to step up and prove I am ready to take over the business, but every time I try, he shuts me down.
“We do things a certain way, Alistair. We embody tradition and luxury, two things that our clients love about Devon Holidays.”
Bitterness bubbles up inside me, and not because of the high-grade whiskey. He says this every time I attempt to share my ideas with him. I want our company to do better; I know it can. I want to be the one to take us to the next level and I’ve given a lot of thought about how to do that. I’m not saying it will be easy, but our revenue hasn’t increased much in the last two years, so clearly, it’s time to try something new.
I down the rest of the alcohol in one go and gesture the bartender for a refill.
I can’t believe my father didn’t even let me show the presentation to the board. Seriously, what’s so bad about modernizing the way we work a bit? He had a look at my slides, frowned, and told me it was no good.
“I’m disappointed, Alistair. Why is it that you always come to me with these extreme proposals?”
Because the way we do things needs to change.Ugh.But it’s not like I can tell him that. He’s a stubborn man whose stubborn ways got our family where it is now. He and mom built an Empire from zero and that is a very hard achievement to beat, especially when his conservative mind won’t even consider ninety-nine percent of the suggestions I put forth.
I squeeze my glass and lift it for a sip when my gaze locks with that of the man on the other side of the circular wooden bar. Every muscle in my body freezes as green eyes stare right at me, slightly narrowed and glimmering with discontent.
It’s not aimed at me or because of me. I can tell because I feel exactly the same way—disappointed,disillusioned, and annoyed at the world because it won’t let things go my way. This stranger and I—we share this moment, this bad day. He has his woes, and I have mine, but by the looks of things, we are here for the same thing—to drown them out and distract ourselves.
Letting my lips arch up on one side, I take a delayed sip. My heart beats faster as I call the bartender over and instruct him to put another glass of Macallan on my tab and serve it to the green-eyed man with the gray suit across from me. Then I observe, my palms growing sweaty by the second.
Little zaps of gentle electricity race up my spine as the bartender says something to the man, who nods and lifts the whiskey glass. He studies it, as if it’s an exhibit, and takes an experimental sip. I hold my breath, but I don’t even know why. It’s like I’m being tested and my taste in whiskey will decide whether I pass.
The man’s eyebrow shoots slightly up. In challenge or in interest, I can’t tell, but I also decide that it doesn’t matter because I got his attention. And that’s all I needed.
I grab my glass and hop off the barstool. My pulse elevates, matching the wild beat of the song that starts playing as I stride over to my target for tonight. His gaze follows me, focused on me single-mindedly like the eyes of an eagle stalking its prey.
That’s… new.Exciting. I guess going to a different bar than usual pays off after all.
“Hi there. You having a good time?” I say as I slide my elbows on the bar counter to his left.
His smile is subtle, restrained, as if he doesn’t want to let it fully manifest. “I am more of a gin and tonic guy.” He lifts the glass, scrunching his nose. “But thanks. I guess. Even if your fancy whiskey might be wasted on me.”
The amusement that mixes in with his frown sets off a wave of heat through me. He has a very expressive face, with features that are pronounced but on the gentler side. He’s also kind of sassy, and tonight I find that cute.
“Is that so?”
I inch in closer, my shoulder brushing his. Sparks dance under my skin, raising goosebumps all over. I can’t help but smile, and because I am a man on a mission, I make sure it looks sexy as I push off the counter and face my companion straight on. If I had to estimate, he’s in his mid-twenties, so my age. Twenty-five, twenty-six maybe to my twenty-seven. His suit is the store-bought type unlike my dark blue tailor-made Armani, which fits me like a glove and makes my blue eyes pop.
“It is so,” he says, not backing off.
Bending over is what people normally do, intimidated by who I am. But I guess he doesn’t recognize me, and if I’m being honest, I’m enjoying it. I just came back from studying abroad and I’m not as famous as my dad yet since he won’t let me take over until I’ve proven myself, so unless you are part of the circles I frequent, you wouldn’t necessarily know who I am.
It’s refreshing. There are no expectations between us, no ulterior motives or hidden agendas. And those green eyes… They are unwavering and playful, challenging me instead of trying to accommodate me.
Sucking in a sharp breath as heat pools to my stomach, I wrap my fingers around the man’s hand and guide his glass to my lips. I swallow the rest of his whiskey, but instead of setting the glass down, I keep holding his hand as I raise my free one to get a bartender’s attention.
“I’ll have your most expensive gin and tonic.”
My eyes don’t leave those greens. They can’t. And the more I look at them, the more I notice the specs of blue shimmering at uneven intervals where the light hits this man’s face just right.
