Unauthorized

Chapter 13: Drinks

Liv preened in the taxi, fixing the strap of her shirt and enjoying the novelty of her new look. Andres had found her a slinky blue top with thin silver straps and mid-height heels that one of the dancers had had to school her in walking in. The ridiculousness of her ineptitude didn't matter in the face of the boyish grins her date had shot her as he searched for a top.

Andrés paid the cabbie and offered her his arm. She took it gratefully, not entirely sure of herself even with the lessons but thrilled by the way he was eyeing her legs. For once, wearing heels made her feel powerful rather than absurd.

"You look stunning," he murmured as he led her past a long queue.

She grinned. So far, so good. Operation Get Some is a go.

People glared as they approached the head of the queue. A bouncer who could have been Mr. Clean's twin caught sight of Andrés and smiled to show missing teeth as he unhooked one end of the velvet rope to let them pass. "Mr. Marin, so good to see you again. Shall I call down for your usual table and drinks?"

"Please," Andrés confirmed, palming a fifty-pound note to the big man so smoothly that Liv would have missed it had she not seen him prepare it in the taxi.

"Consider it done. I hope you and your lovely lady enjoy your night."

"I'm sure we will," Andrés replied with a hungry glance that made goosebumps rise on Liv's bare arms despite the unseasonably warm evening.

Eyes wide, she looked around as they entered and took the stairs down. Sensual electronic house music washed over them and neon lights danced in the darkness, tracing beguiling patterns over swaying guests. "Who are you?" she hissed, impressed in spite of herself. That queue was easily an hour and a half long.

Andrés smirked, looking pleased as a cat with cream. "Someone who makes a good living solving problems and knowing which palms to grease. Come on."

Greasing palms. Is that why he's not bothered about bribery in business?

They threaded their way through a crowd of well-dressed people enjoying beautifully-arranged drinks garnished with exotic flowers. The brick walls arched up and overhead to a low ceiling supporting sparkling chandeliers. Alcoves along the wall provided private spaces for those who didn't want to sit at the bar, and it was the last of these, tucked into a corner, that Andrés stepped down into.

On a narrow table sat a small, special batch bottle of Macallan, a bucket of ice, and two glasses. He poured as she sat, then tucked in beside her, sitting closer than he ever had at Perdition. She could feel the solidness of his arm against hers and her attention fell on the hint of chest she could see with his top two shirt buttons open. He smelled better than a man had a right to and the closeness of him sent a thrill straight to her groin. Their almost-kiss earlier spiked her blood and filled the night with potential.

"Salud," he toasted her, "and congratulations on a series of jobs well done."

"Cheers...to good business," she returned, reaching for her tumbler. Their eyes locked as their glasses clinked and they drank. Liv's fluttered shut in pleasure as the amber liquid hit her tongue. "Oh, this is good," she breathed. "I think this earns you the right to call me Liv." The corner of his lip lifted in another smile, and she was struck again by how handsome he was despite his tendency toward evasive smugness.

They made small talk for a while, with Andrés telling increasingly outrageous stories about other nights out over the years. She didn't know if any of them were true, but he had her in tears of laughter all the same. If wit and charm were distilled into a single human being, they would live in Andrés Marin.