8
ISABELLA
While I was annoyed at myself for being pushed into having drinks with Parker, I couldn’t back out because then he would win. Besides, I wasn’t a robot. I could cut loose.
At least, I used to be able to cut loose sometimes. I was pretty sure it was like riding a bicycle, though. Once you got the hang of it, you could always do it—even if it had been a while and you got off to a wobbly start.
Pulling my shoulders back, I looked up at the building that housed the bar he’d chosen. It was one of the smaller apartment blocks in this part of town, and The Terrace had opened on its roof. Since it was surrounded by taller buildings, the view wasn’t that great, but once the city lights came on, it was a beautiful setting in a very urban way.
Although it could’ve been a romantic spot, it hadn’t turned out like that. Perhaps purposefully, the owners had taken great care that it didn’t turn into a quintessential date-night haunt. I’d only been there once before, and it’d been for work, but if memory served, the music was loud, the décor was a mish-mash of pub and sports memorabilia, and it’d seemed rather confused to me.
I was the only one who thought that way, though. The place was a hit, even if it felt a little like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. Perhaps it was even as popular as it wasbecauseit felt like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be.
I spotted Parker as I got out of the elevator. I had shown up even though I’d been of two minds about it all day. He was already there, seated in one of the booths that took up all four corners of the place. Scattered between those booths was a mix of cocktail tables and patio sets.
Yeah. It’s just as confused as I remember it being.
But even so, it was as packed as always. The Sunday night crowd, who didn’t give a damn that they had work in the morning, lived it up. Almost all the tables had at least one oversized container of some kind of alcohol on it. There were giant pitchers of beer and cocktails in massive glasses or in fishbowls that were bigger than my head.
Parker looked up when I walked in, his gaze zeroing in on me. He grinned and waved me over. I hadn’t even sat down when the waiter was there and Parker ordered me a drink.
“She’ll have a glass of white.” He turned to me. “You’re a wine girl, right? You look like a wine girl.”
I arched a brow at him. “What does a wine girl look like?”
“Like you,” he said, then laughed. “Are you not a wine drinker because, if so, you need to tell this man what you’d like.”
The waiter nodded. “We’ve got a bit of everything, ma’am. Our bartender is also open to learning about any cocktail we don’t already have on the menu.”
“That’s very kind, but I’ll have the wine. Dry white. Ice in a separate glass, and a bottle of sparkling water. Thank you.”
He nodded again, then took off.
Parker released a low whistle. “That’s a very sophisticated order. I’m glad I didn’t just get you a beer.”
“I like beer,” I protested, finally taking a seat and setting my purse down on the bench beside me. “You may not believe it, but I even won a contest for drinking it once.”
“A beer-drinking contest?” A glimmer of amusement appeared in his eyes. He faced me fully, folded his arms on the table, and leaned in toward me. “Tell me more. I’m not going to lie. I can’t picture you participating in a beer-drinking contest.”
I sniffed. “That’s because you don’t know me. I can be fun. It was while I was on spring break in college.”
I didn’t add that I’d only participated in the contest because my girlfriends had already entered me in the hopes of getting me to unwind a little. When my name had been called as a contestant, they literally had to drag me onto the stage.
I also didn’t say that I’d only gone for a trip on spring break because my friend’s parents had said she could only go if I went, and then she’d begged me for three months straight. Eventually, I’d agreed but only because she’d had access to notes I’d needed from her sister and she’d promised to get them for me if I went with them.
There was also the small detail that, out of the people who had entered, only myself and one other girl had still been standing. Everyone else had already left the place or passed out.
But still. Winning is winning, after all.
Parker seemed intrigued, though. His lips kicked up into such a sexy smile that my knees felt a little weak. He nodded at me. “Go on. I’m listening. You’ve got to give me more details than that.”
“What more is there? I went on spring break and won a beer-drinking competition.”
He let out a disappointed breath but then shrugged. “Okay, okay. I need to win your trust before I get the rest of the story. I get it. How has your weekend been? What did you do?”
Now this is a subject I don’t mind talking about.“Actually, I’m glad you asked. I can’t wait for you to see the tweaks I’ve made to your pitch.”
He held up a finger and wagged it, tutting his tongue. “No work talk, remember?”