“Live a little, Ellie-not-Annelise,” my sister says with a glimmering smile as she grabs two glasses of champagne off a tray and hands me one.
Ever since I was little, I’ve hated my real name.
Annelise. It sounds like the name of a princess waiting to be rescued out of a tower when she could just wait until no villains, dragons, or princes are looking and dash off into the woods at the witching hour.
While I do have a heart-shaped face, pouty pink lips, and curly blonde hair, I am no princess. “Suited muscles everywhere.”
“I’m in mourning,” I say, downing half my glass of champagne. I let out a low whistle and say, “Damn, this ain’t the cheap stuff!”
“Are you kidding?” Rachel asks, taking a sip. “This hotel is owned by…what’s his face? You work in the hotel industry. You should know who I’m talking about.”
“There are no less than 278 hotels in this city,” I tell her, nursing my bubbly and looking around for round two.
I’m not really a champagne kind of girl, but with the mood I’m in right now, I very much am a drinking kind of girl.
I wouldn’t put it past me to throw a toddler-level fit if I go dry and don’t have another glass handed to me within the same sixty seconds. “I don’t have every manager memorized by heart.”
“Yeah, well, I hear this one has the face of an angel and the jawline of the devil,” she smirks, looking around the room. “Not to mention, he’s an olive-skinned silver fox.”
“Aren’t you in a relationship?” I ask teasingly.
“Yes, and we are in love. I’m looking for you.”
“God, don’t bother,” I mutter as my eyes begin to sting again, and I gulp the rest of my drink.
Dry. Fuck.
“Okay, first of all, fuck Dylan. I mean, who dumps someone like you for someone like that?”
“Dylan,” I answer.
“Exactly. You aren’t going to cry about it anymore. You’re going to drink about it, and eat about it,” she says, swiping two cheesy puffed pastry things off a tray as it passes by.
I have to admit, even with my chronic lack of appetite lately, it is good. “Now. Let’s find a drink!”
My sister once again whisks me off and, despite my crummy mood and throbbing chest, I follow.
She has a way of sitting with me in the gutters of life just long enough for a sisterly pep talk before reeling me out of it. Easy to do when your life is picture perfect.
We make our way to the bar where we both order a cocktail, and she also asks for two pineapple upside-down cake shots.
“To my lovely little sister. May she either get drunk enough or laid good enough to forget all about what’s his nuts.”
I clink my shot glass against hers and we down them. Then I giggle. “I forgot how good these are,” I say.
“I know, right?” she smiles.
The bartender set our drinks down. Mine is the color of grapefruit and has a spiced pear slice hanging on the rim as garnish.
I have to admit; my spirits are lifting. Even if it is only because of the spirits I am downing. I’ll take what I can get. These drinks are obviously watered down because I’m at least three deep, but only have a buzz. At least it takes the edge off.
Just before I can take a sip, I hearhisvoice, and I whip around in horror.
“El. I would never have thought I’d see you here.” Dylan’s voice sends my heart into a panicked frenzy.
It also makes me feel like I’m going to throw up.
“Why not?” Rachel asks. “She has a prestigious job in Vegas in the hospitality industry.”
