“Oh, um, okay...” He held her gaze until she shot Maya a glance, worried the panic coursing through her was evident on her face. She wasn’t the greatest when men flirted with her. And she was especially awkward when pushy men were the ones doing the flirting. “Lavender lemon drop?”
Maya met her gaze and gave her a reassuring smile. “Half?”
“Yes, please,” she replied, grateful her friend could sense her discomfort. Half a shot of liquor would be sufficient after the candy vodka bomb she’d just downed. It would keep the edge off but let her keep her wits about her. Especially if she had to make small talk with this man. Not that she was a stranger to small talk, but it had been alongday.
Maya placed their drinks in front of them, and he tapped his glass to hers, giving her a giant grin. “Cheers, gorgeous.”
Her face heated as she took a small sip of her cocktail. Quickly gathering her thoughts, she set her martini glass down and straightened her shoulders. Yes, this guy made her feel so damn awkward, but she could fake it with the best of them. Turning to him, she gave him her most professional smile. “So how are you enjoying your stay here at the Pacific View Resort?”
Fifteen minutes later, it took everything Freya had to not roll her eyes.
No. Forget rolling her eyes. It took everything she had to not get up, leave the lounge, and go home.
“I’m telling you, gorgeous,” the man seated beside her said, eyeing her in a one-step-away-from-sleezy kind of way. “It’s the next big crypto. I have a knack for this kind of thing.”
She took a sip of her cocktail and deeply regretted allowing him to buy her a drink. She also deeply regretted that Maya was busy at the other end of the bar with four new guests who looked infinitely more fun than the guy beside her.
She stole a glance at the lounge’s entrance and willed Hazel to materialize. Unfortunately, the damn entrance remained stubbornly empty.
Not that Freya was surprised. Punctuality wasn’t at the top of Hazel’s list of priorities, but this was a bit much for her friend. It was only a five-minute walk from the spa building to the lounge—and that was if you were walking at a snail’s pace.
The man droned on, and Freya gripped the stem of her martini glass. It was either that or gouge her own eyes out with said martini glass’s stem.
She was a hairstylist, dammit. Which meant that along with doing hair, she was a professional small talker. Having worked at the resort for the past year, chatting with people who had more money than God—many of whom lacked humility—was not uncommon. In fact, she was well versed in it. However, this guy was wearing on her last nerve.
“Did you hear what I said?” Brandon asked.
Or was it Brennen? Bryson? Braxton?Shit.
Turning her attention back to the man whose name she was pretty sure started with a Br, she smiled. Though it was probably more of a pained grimace. Not that the guy noticed. She took another long drink of her cocktail and nodded. “Crypto. You’re raking it in and have an early lead on the next big thing.” She definitely should have asked Maya for a full shot. Hell, there wasn’t enough vodka in the world that would make this man tolerable.
Oblivious to her sarcasm, he grinned and continued to prattle on. About what? She didn’t really know or care.
Glancing at him, she pegged him to be somewhere in his mid to late thirties. He was tallish and blond and handsome in a generic kind of way. However, the more he talked, the less handsome he became. From a professional standpoint, he probably used as much hair product as she did—and it took alotof product to get her stick-straight hair to hold a curl. That alone shouldn’t irritate her, but it did.
In a nutshell, the man appeared harmless. A bit douchey, but still harmless. But damn, did he like the sound of his own voice. She should have gotten up and left when he initially sat beside her. She should have told him the seat was taken. She should have refused the drink.
But did she do any of those things?
Of course not.
Because she didn’t rock the boat. Ever.
Being a people pleaser who hated confrontation, she’d stayed glued to her seat, wishing she had the guts to tell this guy to go away.
“Now, I asked myself, Bray, are you going to let that little lady sit all alone?” He chuckled, shooting her a wink. “I just couldn’t do it, gorgeous. And since you’ve let me talk your ear off, how about you let me buy you another drink?”
Brayden. That was his name. And of course he talked about himself in third person.
She caught Maya’s gaze across the bar and widened her eyes.Please, help me!When her friend gave her a slight nod and held up a single finger, she thanked the female-telepathy gods.
Freya took another gulp of her drink, set her glass back on the coaster, and shook her head. “No thanks, I’m good. Like I said, I’m waiting for someone.”
“So you’ve said, but yet you’ve been sitting here with me for the last ten minutes.”
It was going on twenty, but who was counting?
She was going to kill Hazel when the woman arrived. If sheeverarrived. “Because my friend isn’t here yet.”
