“Plus,” Angel said, “you’re our best bartender and the Vampire’s Kiss isyourdrink. We wouldn’t feel right having anyone else make it.” He picked up the plastic shaker and held it out to me.
I accepted it, tossing it back and forth between my hands. It felt weird, lighter than what I was used to. I looked at the ingredients on the counter, the ring lights, and finally my reflection on the phone.
I never understood the hold social media had over people. It worked for my bosses, but I never had any desire to be involved. Sure, I was featured in the background of a few videos, but no more than that. I wasn’t sure how I felt about an online presence. Getting attention in person was one thing, online was another. Especially if I was the reason we won this contest. My face being featured on an account with millions of followers… Itwouldbe good for the bar.
Raleigh’s voice pulled me out of my trance. “Ryder? You were our first choice, but I can call Jack if you don’t want to do it.”
“Jack?” I scoffed. “He’d drop every bottle.” I set the shaker down, pulling my work vest from my back pocket. “I’ll do it.”
“You will?” Angel’s eyes brightened—if that were even possible.
“One drink, one take,” I grumbled. “That’s it. And lose the lights, they won’t do anything but get in my way. Let the neons do the work.”
The guys rushed to unplug the lights and pull them out of the way while I mentally prepared. Raleigh—thankfully—took the phone off the tripod and opted to move around me while I worked as Angel stood back and watched.
I loved them both, truly, but I was closer to Raleigh, and Angel didn’t mind that. For the first few years, Angel didn’t interact with much of anyone unless he had to. Raleigh was thebigger personality between the two, and the closest thing to my match I’d ever met. He would take every snarky thing I said and throw it right back at me.
I took stock of the things in front of me. After triple-checking everything was in its place—it wasthoroughness, not nerves—I reached into the freezer and removed a chilled martini glass.
“Ready?” Raleigh asked.
“What do I do?”
“Just do what you always do, and be sure to put on a show for the camera when you take a drink at the end. Pretend I’m not even here.”
“Have you met you?”
“All right, pretend it’s Halloween night and we’re at capacity. You’ve been slinging these things all night. You don’t even have to think about it anymore.”
I took a deep, centering breath. When I picked up the shaker again, I heard the chime indicating he’d started recording, and I pretended I didn’t know the camera was there. I measured out the raspberry liqueur and the vodka, then poured them in. The shaker’s lid chipped when I used a little too much force to slam it shut, but it didn’t ruin the shot. As I shook, the acrylic started to flash neon pink, purple, green, and blue. With my free hand, I flipped the frosted glass upside down into the sugar water, then into the red sugar crystals as I’d done a million times before. While I strained the cocktail with one hand, I agitated the mini bottle of Asti with the other, freeing the cork with a loudpop. I topped off the glass, then rimmed the edge with fake blood and my signature pair of plastic fangs. Before I second guessed it, I spun around and flashed a wink at the camera—then downed the entire thing in one go, licking the red syrup from my lips.
Raleigh ended the recording and turned to Angel, who held another phone. “Did you get what you needed?”
Angel nodded, nearly vibrating with excitement. “I think so.”
“I think that’s the best show I’ve ever seen you put on,” Raleigh said.
“He’s right,” Angel added. “I’m going upstairs to get this edited.” He rounded the bar and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, Ryder.”
“I… you’re welcome?” Angel disappeared down the hall before another word could be said. I turned back to Raleigh. “I’ve never seen him like that.”
Raleigh rested against the bar with his arms over his chest. “He’s really getting into this social media thing—he’s good at it, and it makes him happy. Bonus points when he doesn’t have to be in front of the camera.”
“How many bonus points?” I asked dryly.
He snorted. “Not enough to cash in.” He took a deep breath, the air between us suddenly growing tense. “So, Connor?”
“Is likely getting dressed and leaving my apartment right about now.” My head was starting to swim from the drink.
“Not the one?’
I laughed. “It was a great night, but no.”
“You’re mad at me for this morning, aren’t you?”
“Oh, you bet your pretty little tattooed ass I’m mad at you for this morning,” I said through a yawn. It was way too early, and I was way too tired for his bullshit.
“You sure you wouldn’t prefer a coffee over that drink you asked for?”
