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Except clearly she hadn’t. Because they now stood in the alleyway beneath Amendment 18. The time to object had run out—Charlotte was already knocking on an unmarked door. When it opened and she gave the password, Toni found herself following the two traitors to another closed door at the back of the small bar. Another password and they were heading upstairs, where the music had apparently already begun playing.

And it was French, all right.

It almost sounded like a live band, but when they stepped through the doors, a lone woman sang to the accompaniment of a taped saxophone. Jazz, definitely. But with a twist that was not altogether unpleasant.

She’d seen Lawrence before in his tie and suspenders. But Tyler had always been with her before, which meant she’d had to suppress her fantasy of sliding those suspenders off Lawrence’s shoulders. Although she knew the outfit was just a gimmick that went along with the bar’s theme, it suited him to a T. It also reminded her that he had been alive during Prohibition, and much, much longer . . .

He didn’t see her.

Alessandra and Charlotte stopped to talk to the owner of the bar, who hardly ever came out of his office.

Of course, her attention was fixed on Lawrence, who was using both hands to make Lord knows how many drinks at once. He was a skilled bartender.

What else could those hands do?

Holy sweet Jesus. He’d noticed her, and she was pretty sure if he continued to stare at her like that she’d orgasm right here where she stood.

So much for subtlety.

Something vital had shifted between them, and she wasn’t the only one to notice. Alessandra had stopped talking to Jeff and was now watching her.

“What?” she whispered, looking away.

“Oh, you know what,” her friend said, nodding toward the bar.

Lawrence had gone back to making drinks as if that hadn’t happened. But it had. In that one look, he’d told her everything.

Toni just wasn’t quite ready for it.

“Let’s get some drinks,” Charlotte said in a singsong voice. She’d pulled away, too, and was watching Toni as if she were an interesting specimen.

Sure. Why not jump straight into the fire?

“Hey there,” Alessandra said to Lawrence as they sidled up to the solid oak bar.

His smile lit him up from within, so different from Tyler’s easy charm. His whole demeanor spoke of genuine pleasure and companionship.

She was desperate for him to look at her like that, but when he turned to her, the wattage of his smile faded just a little. His green eyes grabbed her, even more intense than they’d been from across the room. She didn’t care how many questions she’d have to answer from Alessandra later. She simply could not look away.

“Dealer’s choice?” he asked her.

She swallowed, coward that she was, and nodded.

His hands moved so fast, she could barely keep up with the number of liquids he mixed together. Somehow Lawrence managed to make three drinks at once, though all were completely different. He knew what they liked since she and her friends had been here plenty of times before while he tended bar.

But tonight was different.

“I thought you ladies would have gone home by now.”

He said it to no one in particular, his attention still on the drinks he made, but Charlotte answered.

“We’re the last holdouts,” she said. “And not doing too badly, if I do say so myself.”

“I would agree,” he said, darting a glance at Toni. “In fact, I think you’re doing quite well.”

He pushed all three drinks toward them.

“So what do we have this time?” Alessandra asked, either oblivious to the tension or trying to diffuse it. Either way, Toni was grateful. If the entire night went like this, she didn’t think she’d make it. The girls would have to carry her limp body out of the bar.