Plucking my forged Mansara passport out of my purse, I prepared to hand it over. It was under a pseudonym, but when I saw the last name on the officer’s uniform, I paused, grabbed the real passport, and handed it over. The officer looked over it, and his eyes grew wide as he looked back at me.
“They only crossed over a half hour ago…” he murmured, looking at the cars behind me, trying to find them.
“Oh, good to know,” I chirped. “Is there anything else you need from me, Officer Tidwell?”
“No, Miss Caprioni, welcome back home,” he answered, handing me back my passport without having scanned it or taken down my entry information.
I flashed him a smile, tucking it back into my purse. “If you hear from my father, let him know I’m fine.” With a parting wink, I entered Mansara for the first time in fifteen years.
I drove straight to Eastrose, where I was ready to start my birthday adventures. Since I turned twenty-one and could go out on the town, I kept myself up to date on the hottest nightlife and places I couldn’t miss out on once I returned. First stop was getting a room at the Le Mont Thomas. I’d always loved the look of it—a castle in the middle of the city—and people always talked about how wonderful it was, so why not have a place to get ready in style? The blend of neo-Renaissance and modern architecture was right up my alley. After checking in and getting settled in my room, I showered and started to get ready while dancing around the room to music. This was my farewell to the lighter side of life where I could be free of responsibility. Once the crown was placed on my head—so to speak—it would be seen as weakness to act like an innocent teenager, and I couldn’t afford to be seen as weak.
As I looked at the two dresses laid out on the bed, I tapped my chin, not feeling like either was the right fit for my mood. So I moved to the backup idea I knew would piss Daddy off, but it just put the biggest smile on my face—a pair of tight leather cigarette pants with a red satin corset and cropped blazer with accents of matte black crystals on the lapels. I paired it with a set of red snakeskin stilettos, and this outfit was chef’s-kiss perfect. Curling my dark chestnut hair, I braided and pinned back one side to show off my long neck and preened in the mirror. Other than the stupid parties I’d gone to scoping out my next target, this was the first time I’d dressed up for myself. Taking a last look in the mirror, making sure my makeup was on point, I grabbed a simple black leather clutch and headed out.
Not wanting to drive, I had the hotel call a car to take me to the place I’d decided on for an early dinner since it was only five, but I wasn’t wasting this night. Out of habit, I reached up and touched the only piece of jewelry I wore—a necklace from my mother that was a cameo of a starflower. Mother had it made when I was born since Astin meant starlike. When I received it on my sixteenth birthday, I’d gotten a chain long enough so it fell to rest nestled between my breasts, close to my heart. The only time I didn’t wear it was on jobs. I never wanted to risk losing it and not being able to get it back. So it stayed tucked in the safe in my old bedroom. The most valuable thing I own, in my personal opinion.
The driver stopped outside the restaurant, The Bandit, which was also a jazz bar. I wasn’t a huge lover of jazz, but they boasted having the best martinis, and I felt it was worth trying the place out. Entering the restaurant, I decided to head right to the bar. Tonight I wasn’t going to stay anywhere if I wasn’t feeling thevibe. So far, the live jazz music floating through the air was drawing me to stay.
“Good evening, miss. What can I get for you?” the bartender asked, coming over the moment I sat down.
He was about my age or a little older, attractive in that scruffy way hipsters seem to pull off so well. “I heard a rumor this is the place for a martini.”
“You’d be right,” he answered, flashing me a smile. “Looking for anything in particular?” I shook my head. “Would you be willing to have me make something special for you? If you hate it, I’ll make you something else. Promise.”
Oh, this man thought he had game, didn’t he?
“All right, I’ll give you a chance to impress me but make it good. You only get one shot,” I answered, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the bar.
This got an immediate response, sending him off to grab various bottles and pour things into a shaker. As I watched, another person walked up to the bar, setting an empty glass down. I ignored him, not feeling the need to be chatted up this early in the game. Later, I might find someone to have a bit of fun with, but I didn’t think this was the place for it. The Bandit struck me as a place for businessmen, and I’d be getting enough of that in the near future.
Impressively enough, the man didn’t bother me either, which made me beyond curious.The whole bar was open so why choose to sit next to me if he didn’t want to make a move?
“Here we are, best one I’ve ever made.” He paused before setting the drink down but decided quickly to make his move. “If you like it, do you think I can get your name?” the bartender asked, hope written on his face.
Smiling, I grasped the drink and pulled it over as I thought about his proposition. “Let’s see how the drink goes first. Then who knows, you might get more than my name.” Lifting the glass to my lips, I took a sip and was surprised with the hit of citrus then the warmth of the alcohol as it slid down my throat, making me hum.
“Fuck me,” the man next to me muttered under his breath.
Ignoring his utterance, I gave the bartender a bright smile and extended my hand. “I’m Astin, and that’s a damn good martini.”
“Nick,” he answered, dumbfounded as I shook his hand, then pulled it back.
“Nice to meet you, Nick. Looks like I’m going to have to come back here from time to time. I don’t think I ever had a drink that good,” I praised, enjoying the blush running up his neck.
When a waiter walked up, Nick left to deal with restaurant orders. Apparently, this gave the man next to me an opening to finally make his move. “So, is a well-made drink the best way to get your attention?”
Good vibes gone,I sighed internally.
Shifting in my seat, I glanced at the man sitting next to me. He was dressed in a navy suit with pinstripes, black hair slicked back, and a nose that was a bit too large for his face. Other than the nose, nothing was that remarkable about him. He was absolutely forgettable.
“It’s a good place to start, but then any man with something to offer is always welcome to try for my attention,” I commented.
Mr. Big-Nose scoffed, taken aback at my words. “Excuse me? Are you telling me I don’t have anything to offer you?”
Tilting my head to the side, I took him in for a moment. “Your suit is from last year, the watch on your wrist is a fake Rolex, and you can’t even be bothered to get your shoes shined. This tells me you’re cheap about your appearance or you don’t have that good of a job. Add on the fact that it took you almost fifteen minutes to make your move on me tells me confidence isn’t a default for you. Might be why you haven’t gotten promoted at work to afford the finer things. Did you really think after taking a look at me that I was even close to your league?”
“Fucking bitch!” He lifted his glass like he was going to chuck the ice and remnants of his drink at me, but I moved first.
Reaching out, I grabbed the back of his neck and slammed it down onto the polished wooden bar breaking his nose with a satisfying crunch. “You know, I was really having a nice time, then you had to go and ruin it, asshole.”