Chapter Twenty
Isla
Voices floated, laughter traveled, and glassware clinked.
The bar was vibrant with the sound of life, and my mood was shit, but my dress was perfect. Caressing my hips with soft silk, hugging my bare breasts, dipping low on my back, the thin spaghetti straps and wispy material made me feel sexy, naked, and emboldened.
But the conversation with my brother had me on edge.
Ignoring more than a few patrons who looked at me as I passed, I went to the elegant bar and picked a stool that had a view of the tropical gardens.
“Good evening, ma’am.” The bartender smiled like he knew me as he expertly handled a shaker.
“Hello.” Setting down my small clutch, I gave him fair warning. “I’m about to disappoint your inner mixologist.”
He laughed. “I highly doubt that.” After pouring whatever drink he was making into a martini glass and handing it off to a waiting server, he then focused all of his attention back on me. “What can I make for you tonight? Or should I ask how you think you’re going to disappoint me?”
Remembering the valet from last night and the front desk attendant this evening, I absently thought about the correlation between customer familiarity, wealth, and high-end resorts.
Undecided if I was comfortable with any of it, but already frighteningly reluctant to leave the beautiful hotel, I looked at the handsome bartender.
“Why don’t you tell me what you suggest first?
” I never drank, but for a moment, I wanted to pretend that I did.
Not missing a beat, he winked. “I have a signature cocktail that’ll go perfectly with your beautiful dress.”
“Which is?”
“An aperitivo with Planteray Pineapple, Planteray Coconut, Savoia Americano, Mancino Sakura, strawberry, and coconut foam. Simply called Strawberry. But I assure you, it’s much more complex on the palate.”
I had no idea what any of the things he mentioned were, and I would never order something like that, but I did love strawberries and coconuts. “Sounds like you’ve made a few of those before.”
His smile was easy and charming. “I’ve never made one for you.”
And he wasn’t going to. But in another place and time—like on a different continent, in a hotel I wasn’t staying in, at a bar where I could be anonymous, I might’ve given this guy my most flirtatious smile and seen where it led.
Instead, I bridled my return smile. “Here’s where I’m going to disappoint. Just a club soda, please.”
Nothing in his demeanor dimmed even though I just killed his chances at a guaranteed higher tip that came with a bigger bill. “You definitely don’t disappoint, and club soda it is. Bottled? Ice? Fruit?” he asked, already moving through his domain with professional, skilled ease.
“San Pelligrino? Yes, please to the ice, and do you have locally sourced fruit?”
Glancing at me without lifting his head, half his mouth tipped up with a suggestive smile. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint, and yes, I have both. As far as fruit, I have lemon, lime, pineapple, guava, and mango.” Opening a bottle of the sparkling water, his smile held. “Which would you like?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
His dark brown eyes danced with mischief. “Pineapple. It’s sweet today.” Pouring the Pellegrino into a glass with ice, then spearing some golden chunks on a small skewer, he placed the fruit across the top of the glass and slid it toward me.
“Thank you.” I took a sip of effervescence, and the scent of tropical pineapple made my mouth water.
“You’re welcome. Would you like to see a menu?”
“Actually, I was hoping to dine in the restaurant tonight.”
“Excellent choice, and as luck would have it, here comes the hostess now.” He briefly glanced past me and nodded. “Do you have a reservation?”
Shit. “I do not.”
He smiled conspiratorially. “Let’s see what we can do.” He looked to my left as a young woman approached. “Maria, Miss…?” The bartender looked back at me.
“Isla.”
He winked. “The lovely Miss Isla would like to dine in the restaurant this evening. Can you fit her in?”
The hostess’s face fell as she looked at me. “I’m so sorry, we’re at capacity tonight. But I’d be happy to buy your drink.”
“No need. You can charge it to my room. Stanton.” I gave them the suite number.
The hostess and the bartender immediately looked at each other, but the hostess spoke first.
“Mrs. Stanton, my apologies. If you’ll just give me a few minutes, I’ll find a table for you in the dining room. Will anyone be joining you this evening?”
The appointment, the cash, the fancy rental car, the oceanfront suite, and now this. I wondered what else my brother had done. Already in the dress and heels, likely to never receive this kind of VIP treatment again, I went with it. “Just me tonight.”
“Of course.” The hostess hurried off.
I glanced at the bartender. “That was more than slightly embarrassing.”
No smile, no wink, the bartender’s demeanor had completely changed. “No need to be embarrassed, Mrs. Stanton. We’re happy to have you here. I’m sure Maria will be back shortly. Can I get you anything else?”
Not bothering to tell him he had the wrong honorific, I opened my purse and took out one of the hundreds.
“No, thank you.” Laying the bill on the bar, figuring he needed the big tip for whatever my brother must have threatened the staff with, I didn’t ask for change.
Holding my seltzer, I turned on my stool.
Maria the hostess was already back. “Right this way, Mrs. Stanton.”
“Thank you.” Sliding off the stool, I grabbed my purse and followed her.
Three paces into the elegant dining room, my gaze landed on leaf-green eyes, and my heart slammed against my chest.
Then I saw the woman seated next to him.
Jealousy became a vortex.