Ziya shrugged one shoulder. “Thought it’s probably best to keep a clear head.You’renot drinking?”
“Same reason. Clear head. For the mission.”
“Right. For the mission.”
Laughter exploded from the direction of the bachelorette party, and Amie wrinkled her nose. “Did that sound like drunk laughter to you?”
“You know, there’s an easy way to deal with this.” Ziya smiled brightly at the bartender as he delivered her drink. “Can we also get a round of Fireball shots for the party over there?”
“Sure thing.”
“Very smart,” Amie marveled as he turned away to make Amie’s drink.
Ziya flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have my moments,” she said modestly before taking a sip of her drink.
They watched the bartender begin pouring whiskey into a dozen shot glasses arranged on a tray.
“Should we be looking while they get delivered?” Amie asked. “Is it more or less suspicious if we’re looking?”
“Well, the whole point of sending the shots was to get Raina drunker than she already is,” Ziya pointed out, picking up her drink. “Do you want her noticing you and coming over now?”
“Good point. We can’t let her see us yet.” Only half-joking (though she’d deny any accusations that she was any percentage below 100 percent joking), Amie added, “We can do that movie thing where we kiss to keep her from seeing our faces.”
Ziya coughed mid-drink, some of her Shirley Temple spilling from her glass and tap dancing on the countertop.
“Sorry, sorry!” Amie scrambled to grab a handful of napkins. “Bad joke, that was a bad joke.”
“No, it was funny,” Ziya croaked, accepting a napkin and dabbing her mouth. “I just”—she coughed again, then cleared her throat—“didn’t expect it.”
Amie mopped up the spilled drink. “Sorry,” she said again. “I literally asked you to not say flirty stuff to me, and now I’m being a hypocrite.”
Ziya laughed, her voice still slightly raspy from the coughing. “I can handle flirty.”
Amie raised an eyebrow pointedly at the spilled drink. “Canyou?” she teased.
“Is that a challenge?”
What might have turned into a record-breaking locking of gazes was interrupted by the soft clinking of glass as a waiter picked up the tray of shots and began walking it over to the bachelorette table.
“Let’s move,” Amie said urgently, balling up the damp napkins and grabbing her drink.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been here before,” Ziya said as they settled into their new seats on the other side of the bar. “It’s such a nice spot. I’d come here more often if it wasn’t for my ‘no repeats’ rule.”
“I don’t know how you stick to that rule,” Amie said. “Remember when you found that restaurant you said made even better dosas than your grandma?”
Ziya made a show of glancing around, lowering her voice. “Yeah, and remember how I said we were tonever speak of thatin case Naani found out what I said?”
Amie grinned guiltily. “Sorry. But you never went back there again! After all the raving about how good the food was!”
“Life’s too short to eat at the same place twice,” Ziya stated. “But back to my original statement: How haveyounever been here before?”
“If you didn’t take me, I probably didn’t go,” Amie said.
Ziya looked at her in disbelief. “What?”
“Have we met?” Amie held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Amie.”
Ziya gave a playful moue, shaking her hand. “Youdidtell me to forget everything I know about you. And a lot can change in three months. Maybe you’re a whole different person.”
