Shaken or Stirred, page 13
“Oh my God, I’m interrupting,” the newcomer said, then continued to come in, closed the door behind her, and set her purse down.
“You totally are,” Julia said, but there was no anger in her voice. Rather, she was grinning, and when those dark, dark eyes of hers met Savannah’s, they were sparkling, and Julia gave her a wink. Savannah was glad to see that because her lips still tingled from their kiss. “Savannah McNally, meet my cousin Vanessa Martini.”
Vanessa crossed the room, hand outstretched. “Lotta syllables in our names,” she said, her face open and friendly. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” Savannah said and shook her hand.
“Amelia said you needed my help.” Vanessa took the stool next to Savannah and sat. “Diet Coke?”
Julia sighed quietly and honored the request, and there was something about the way she didn’t run Vanessa off. Didn’t make her feel bad for showing up. Rather, just accepted her presence almost happily and slid a beverage in front of her. Savannah liked that.
“Help with what?” Savannah asked, looking from Julia to Vanessa—who shifted a bit in her seat—and back. She sipped her Baileys.
The two cousins seemed to hold eye contact for an extra beat before Julia said, “The bar hasn’t been doing as well as I’d hoped.”
Her disappointment was clear, but it felt like more than that to Savannah, like there was something else wrapped around the success or failure of her business. “It’s only been reopened for a couple months, though, right?”
“True.” Julia pulled a beer from the fridge behind her, popped the cap, took a long sip. Then she leaned her forearms on her side of the bar, and Savannah felt a flush of heat as she replayed their kiss. Had that only happened moments ago?
“Her business plan was too general. Too basic. She needs to start using some specifics. Some gimmicks,” Vanessa said, waving her hands as she talked. “Themes. Things to pull in more people. Drink specials—which should be different martinis because, hello? And prizes. Stuff like that.”
Watching Vanessa talk, she should have colors all around her. That’s what Savannah thought. She was bright. Cheerful. Sparkly. Savannah thought she should have a sparkling of glitter follow her around. Sequins on all her brightly colored clothes. She couldn’t help but smile as Vanessa laid out some ideas. A lot of them. She talked quickly, her pretty hands drawing invisible pictures in the air. It was something to behold.
Julia loved her cousin. Savannah could see that clearly in the way she listened carefully, paid close attention, even if Vanessa’s idea was crazy or unrealistic. There was always a gentle smile on her face, but it wasn’t patronizing. It was loving. Interested. Respectful. Julia respected Vanessa, and Savannah found herself envious of that kind of a family relationship.
Savannah didn’t keep track of how long they talked about ways to improve business, but she sipped her drink, loving the rich creaminess as it coated her tongue and did just what Julia promised—took the edge off without making her feel tipsy. At one point, she found a notebook and pen in her purse and began jotting things down for Julia, surprised to find herself invested. Somehow, after only knowing her a very short time, she wanted to help Julia make her bar successful. By the time they finished, she had several pages of scribbles, and Julia was ready to invent a couple new drinks for the following week.
“Oh my God, is it after eleven?” Savannah was shocked.
“No. Is it?” Vanessa’s dark brows rose. “It is. Crap. I gotta go. It’s a school night.”
“What do you do?” Savannah asked as she handed Vanessa her jacket and picked up her own. They’d hardly talked about anything but the bar, and Savannah wanted to know more about this sparkly human.
“She shapes the minds of our youth,” Julia said.
“Ah, so it actually is a school night,” Savannah said.
“Yes, and I should be sleeping right now. Fourth graders have way more energy than I do on a good day.” Vanessa pushed up on her toes and kissed Julia’s cheek. “Bye.”
“Thank you,” Julia said and hugged Vanessa tight. “So much.”
“No worries. We’re gonna make Martini’s the place to be.” With a cute little waggly finger wave, Vanessa Martini left just the way she’d entered, in a whoosh.
Savannah stood looking at the door and took a moment to catch her breath. “Wow.”
Julia laughed through her nose. “Right?”
“She is something.”
“She really is. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” A grimace settled across her full lips. “I’m sorry about that, though. I didn’t know she was coming.”
Savannah waved her off. “You guys are lucky to have each other. And don’t apologize. I had fun.” She turned to look at Julia, and their eyes locked. She took a step closer. Two. Until there was only an inch or two between them and she had to lift her chin to make eye contact. “But, if I remember correctly, we got interrupted.” She hadn’t meant to whisper it, but that’s how it came out. Breathy and soft.
“We did. Now…” Julia squinted, made a show of thinking hard. “Where were we?”
Thoughts apparently left her. They were just gone, because not one crossed her mind. There were no instructions given to her hands by her brain, no debate, no wondering whether or not she should do this. Savannah simply reached up with one hand, slid it under Julia’s hair to the back of her neck, and pulled her head down.
Their lips met.
There was nothing tentative about this kiss.
No testing. No sampling.
It was hard and sensual and invasive in the best of ways. Savannah had never kissed anyone that aggressively, that thoroughly, ever in her life. Whether she’d been with them for months or had just met them in the moment. No, this was different. This was hot. And sexy in a completely unfamiliar way. And so very real. Julia’s lips were soft, warm, wet, and when they parted and allowed Savannah’s tongue into her mouth, one of them moaned. Somebody hummed. Julia’s hands were on Savannah’s body, one at the small of her back, pulling her closer, the other cupping her face. There was nothing to be heard in the room except the very distant melody coming from the main bar and the soft sounds of their kiss.
Air became an issue. The need for it. Savannah finally lowered her head enough to free her mouth from Julia’s, and they both stood there, chests heaving with ragged breaths. Savannah rested her forehead against Julia’s shoulder and said the only thing she could think to say.
“Wow.”
“Uh-huh,” was Julia’s reply as she swallowed, and she sounded as bewildered by that kiss as Savannah felt.
“We are wordy,” Savannah said after another moment, and she felt Julia’s shoulder move with her soft laughter.
“I just…” Savannah lifted her head and Julia looked down at her and there was something. Something there, floating between them. Words? Observations? Something Savannah wasn’t ready to address, and she got the very distinct impression Julia felt the same way.
“I should probably get home,” Savannah said softly, and if Julia felt she was being abrupt, she didn’t show it. Instead, she nodded and gently moved Savannah to arm’s length. Which was a good thing, Savannah thought. Safer. Less chance of her jumping back in, grabbing Julia’s face, and kissing it right the hell off. And also a sad thing because she instantly missed Julia’s closeness. Her warmth. Wanted to go back to it.
Julia picked up Savannah’s purse, held it so she could slide her arm through the strap, and it rested on her shoulder. Their gazes held again, and it seemed clear to Savannah that they both wanted to talk, but neither felt quite ready. And that was okay.
“Text me,” she said softly.
“I definitely will.” Julia bent her head, brushed Savannah’s lips quickly, and took an almost unnoticeable step back, as if she needed to put a bit of distance between them.
That night in bed, Savannah couldn’t get Julia out of her head. All that hair that she wanted to bury her face in. Those deep, dark eyes that she felt she could fall into. Those soft, wet, hot lips and how they’d felt on hers. Before she realized it, her hand had found its way into her bikinis.
With Julia Martini as her fantasy material, her orgasm ripped through her in less than three minutes.
Chapter Eleven
Thank God for Fridays.
Julia looked around her bar as she pulled the rag from her shoulder and wiped the surface. It was Friday, just after four, and things were starting to pick up nicely. Didn’t seem to matter how business was the rest of the week. Or month. Or even the year. Friday happy hour was a thing and always would be, thank fucking God. Her smile was one of relief, though she hoped that wasn’t obvious.
The Northwood Nightlife blog had mentioned Martini’s again, and she wondered if that had helped with a bump in business. Called the place “atmospheric and creative.” She’d take it.
There were some regulars at tables, a few family members, including Dante and Vanessa, who’d both come by after work and unexpectedly ran into each other. Her brother John came in a few minutes later. He’d changed out of his mechanic’s attire and into a black polo shirt, but his hands were forever grease-stained. He stood between the stools Vanessa and Dante sat on and ordered a beer. Julia was the only bartender at the moment, but Clea was due in soon.
During the day, Hank preferred classic rock, and Julia had no issues with that. But once happy hour kicked in, she switched the tunes over to something more modern and upbeat. A little hip-hop. A little pop. Some electronic dance music. Justin Bieber was filtering through the mounted speakers as the front door opened again, and somebody walked in carrying a large bouquet of flowers in a vase. Heads turned as the person came to the bar and set the flowers down.
“Hi there.” It was one of the women from the flower shop down the street. They’d met a few times at a local business networking meeting. She was very kind, and very pretty. Average height, dark hair, shockingly green eyes, and a beautiful smile that Julia couldn’t recall ever seeing her without. Stacy? Grace? Something along those lines.
“Hi.” Julia draped the rag over her shoulder. “Are those for me?”
“They are. Thought I’d drop them off on my way home. Enjoy.”
“Thanks.” She lifted her chin at the woman’s little wave good-bye, then picked up the vase and took it to the side of the bar where her brothers and cousin were.
“Who was that?” Vanessa asked, her eyes locked on the flower deliverer’s retreating form.
“You know her, don’t you? She works at the flower shop around the corner.” Julia jerked a thumb over her shoulder as she plucked the card from its holder on the flowers.
“The Petal Pusher?” Vanessa’s face lit up. “I love that place. It’s so cute. Lots of fun little gifts in there along with the flowers.” Her gaze lingered on the door for a beat, then shifted to Julia. “Ooh, are those from Savannah?” She said the name with a Southern twang, which made Julia laugh.
“I have no idea.” But God, she hoped so. How romantic would that be? She slid her finger under the flap of the small envelope and pulled out the card.
To my favorite cocktail creator. Hope these make you smile. Chris
The way the excited anticipation slid off Julia was impressive. It was like she could feel it. Like it was a sheet around her shoulders that was tugged, and it slid right down her body to puddle on the floor.
“I haven’t seen her face fall like that since she asked for Doc Martens for Christmas, and Ma got her a pair of heels instead.” Dante grinned.
“I remember that,” John chimed in. “She picked up that shoebox-shaped present about a hundred times the week before.”
Vanessa snatched the card from her hand and read it. “Who’s Chris?”
As if they’d conjured her, the door opened and Chris sauntered in, smiled, and waved, and her smile widened when she saw the flowers. She made her way to her usual stool, which was vacant, Julia noticed, and she cursed to herself. She sighed quietly and said to her family members, “That’s Chris.”
“Why is she sending flowers?” John asked, his voice comically low. “Are they dating?”
Julia tipped her head to the side. “Not even close.”
“Oh, is that the one Amelia told me about?” Vanessa asked. “The one with the crush on you?”
It was safe to assume that whatever one of the three of them—Julia, Amelia, Vanessa—said to one of the others would always make it to the third. So it was no surprise that Amelia had told Vanessa about Chris. Which was good because it saved Julia from having to explain, and she really didn’t want to. A nod was her response.
“She’s nice enough,” Julia said. “Just a little…familiar sometimes.”
“Crushes will do that,” Vanessa said.
Dante eyed the flowers, a lovely bouquet of bright spring and summer blooms. Yellows and purples and lots of baby’s breath. “I guess so. This is not a cheap bouquet.”
“I love getting flowers,” Vanessa said in a dreamy voice.
Julia almost pushed the vase toward her but didn’t want to be like that, especially in front of Chris. She meant well. She was simply—clearly—not reading the signals correctly. Or maybe Julia needed to hand them out differently. Be louder about them. She put on a smile as she approached to take Chris’s drink order.
“I see you got my flowers,” Chris said, pride clear on her face.
“I did. That was very nice of you. Very unnecessary, but nice. Thank you.” Julia wiped an imaginary spot on the bar and absently marveled at how often she used the act of wiping the bar to fill awkward spaces. “What can I get you?”
Chris seemed slightly dejected that she’d gone right to business, but that was the plan. The flowers were kind of a weird gesture, and Julia didn’t want to give them any more attention other than saying a polite thank-you. She could hear Amelia’s voice in her head, all logical, telling her she owed Chris nothing but kindness. “I’ll just start with a beer.” Yup, definite dejection. Julia served her beer and was moving down to another group when the door opened.
As if totally out of her control, she smiled big. Bigger even when Savannah saw her and smiled back. The bar was getting busier—several groups of female friends had come in, drawn by the happy hour special of an appletini—and there were no more open stools. Savannah didn’t seem to care. As Julia began making a batch for the three work friends at the corner, she walked right up to the bar between two men in separate groups, leaned her forearms on the bar, and said, “If I could’ve bailed early on my client just to get here and see you sooner, I totally would have.”
Day. Made. That was Julia’s first thought as she shook the martinis. “Hi, you,” she said, then gestured with her head. “Vanessa is over there with my brothers if you want to sit with them.”
“Sounds great.”
“I’ll be right there.” How was it that everything was suddenly better? Just from this girl walking into her bar? Did that make any sense at all? She strained the drinks into glasses, their green hue looking almost jewellike in the funky bar lighting, and added an apple slice to each as the trio looked on, clearly entertained. “Enjoy, ladies.”
When she turned toward her family, she stopped, and something warm rushed through her. Savannah was sitting on the stool Dante must’ve given up for her. She was chatting away with the three of them, smiling, looking like she belonged right there in their midst. Vanessa laughed at something John said, then leaned toward Savannah and put a hand on her forearm as Savannah’s eyes went wide and she burst into laughter.
The picture was completely normal. Totally regular. Just as it should’ve been.
All of which was so weird. And also, so not.
Julia took a moment, mentally gave herself a shake, and approached, then braced her hands on the bar. “Can I get you something?” she asked Savannah, who turned her attention to her. Did Savannah reach a hand into Julia’s lungs and steal all her breath? Because it felt exactly like that. Like that’s exactly what she’d done. Air was suddenly sparse.
“Oh no,” Savannah said, and her tone was laced with apology as she laid a warm hand on Julia’s. “I can’t stay. I have to deal with some…” A shadow crossed over her face for a second and was gone. “Family stuff.”
“Everything okay?” Concern tapped Julia on the shoulder.
A dismissive wave. “Yeah, it’s fine. No big deal.”
Maybe Savannah didn’t think it’d be a big deal to Julia, but it was a big deal to her. Julia could tell instantly, and part of her was amused, not to mention thankful, that she could read Savannah so well. Another part wanted to help. “You sure?”
She nodded, made a What can you do? face, shrugged, and left it at that.
Julia would’ve liked more time to visit with her, but business was good that Friday, and before she knew it, Savannah was waving good-bye. She looked over her shoulder, held her hands up and mimed thumb-typing, and Julia nodded, watching her go.
As if it had started quietly and then began to increase in volume until she recognized it, her family began singing a little tune behind her that went something like, “Julia and Savannah, sittin’ in a tree…”
Julia threw a rag at them, but her face was red, and her smile was wide, and she was painfully aware of both those things.
* * *
The family stuff Savannah had to deal with boiled down to Chelsea and listening-helping-holding her while she cried over her broken heart and how Parker could call it quits after so long together.
“Hi, Dad,” she called as she entered the house. He was in his recliner watching something on the History channel—Savannah could see men dressed in medieval attire and hear a narrator talking about the weapons of that time. “Still holding on to the dream of becoming a knight?”
“I could pull off a suit of armor,” he said matter-of-factly without turning around.
