“Good idea.” She smiled. “I’ll make you my special shot.”
***
After I’d checked in, showered, and ordered room service, I sat down and cracked open a premixed vodka.
I’d rifled through my bag and laid out the best clothing choices on the end of the bed: a short tan skirt and a black silk camisole that I’d brought to sleep in, but would suffice as a top, and tan heeled ankle boots. Not exactly sexy-goddess style.
I hoped Ethan didn’t run into Georgie tonight. I’d left a note saying I was staying at her house. I supposed even if he did run into her, he might think I’d lied because I had a date; he was unlikely to think I’d travel across the country looking for Karson.
My stomach tightened in apprehension—for about the tenth time since I boarded the plane—that perhaps coming here wasn’t the smartest idea. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d donesomething on impulse without any regard for the consequences. It almost always didn’t end well.
I finished off the can of vodka and set about blow drying my hair. Then I applied my makeup, adding a smoky-gray eye shadow, thick eyeliner, and red lips.
After I got dressed, I covered the burn on my thigh with a skin-colored patch. It was visible from under the end of my skirt, but in the dim light no one would notice. I pumped a couple of sprays of perfume, grabbed my small tan shoulder bag, and by the time I headed downstairs it was 9:30 p.m.
Mackenzie glanced up as I stood at the bar, and she flashed me an approving grin. “Yes, that should do it.” She leaned over the bar to get a good look. “Don’t suppose you have a leather skirt and some strappy heels, though?”
I shook my head.
“Oh well,” she said, fluttering her hand. “With your looks, I’m sure it won’t matter. Ready for your shot?”
“I’ll take two of those special shots.” I needed them.
She poured the largest shots I’d ever seen and slid them over. “Fifteen dollars.”
I paid and threw one back. The liquid was fire, singeing my throat and nearly making me choke. “Holy shit,” I spluttered, laughing.
She chuckled and slid a glass of water over. I took a few sips to drown the flames and then, with a grimace, threw the second shot down.
“How long have you known Karson?” she asked. There was a slight hesitance behind the question.
“Not long.”
“Okay then.” She nodded. “Well he’s quite charming, but he has a temper, so just watch yourself.”
“Have you seen his temper?”
“Yes.” She glanced past my shoulder towards the door, then looked back and lowered her voice. “Some guy came in and charged straight up to him. They argued. And Karson’s eyes . . . they went black . . .” She visibly shivered. “The next thing I knew he had the guy up against the wall by his throat. It took four men to wrestle him off. After that night, I was pretty cautious.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard about that kind of behavior. And I’d seen his temper. I had a temper. The guy must have done something to infuriate him.
“What about with women? Have you seen anything that worried you?”
“Like bruises?’
I nodded.
“No.” She shook her head. “But I wouldn’t want any of my friends to date him, put it that way.”
“Thanks for the shots.”
“Sure, good luck.” With that, she walked off toward a customer waiting over at the middle of the bar.
***
The night air was warm. A sea mist hovered over the water, licking around the edges of the boats moored in the docks, and the smell of salt filled my nose. People milled about leisurely. Hazy wharf lights covered everything in a ghostly pale glow, illuminating a few couples walking hand in hand. Two men strolled past with their dog, a white, fluffy terrier. Kids ran full steam ahead of their parents, haphazardly clutching ice cream cones.
The alcohol began to have an effect on me, my neck and shoulders relaxing, and the tightness in my stomach eased.
