Taking A Shot

“Unless I’m in the mood for sex, I don’t really see the point. None of those guys are my type. And a bar isn’t a place to meet men.”


“Oh, come on.” Liz scanned the bar. “There are some serious hotties in here.”

Training her gaze into laser-point precision, she pointed it at the male traffic. “Unemployed. Gay. Mama’s boy. Bully. Wimp.” She turned to them. “Should I go on?”

Tara shook her head. “I think you might be just a wee bit too picky. Are you certain your system is as flawless as you’d like to believe?”

“I’ll prove it to you.” She smiled at the corporate type they’d singled out for her at the beginning. He graced her with his thousand-watt smile, pushed off the bar, and headed over to them, pulling up a chair and sliding into it.

“Hello, ladies. Enjoying your evening?”

Jenna took the lead. “So far.”

“Can I buy you all a drink?”

“Sure.” Jenna told them what they were having. Without even turning around, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers for the cocktail waitress. Jenna gritted her teeth.

They all introduced themselves. His name was Craig. He was in hardware technology sales.

“Do you travel?” she asked.

His lips curved. “Quite a bit, as a matter of fact. I’m on the road a lot.”

“You must enjoy it.”

“It’s an adventure. And what about you, Jenna?”

“I’m a bartender.”

He held up his drink and tipped it to her. “Nice. I like drinks.”

She’d just bet he did.

“And what about the rest of you gorgeous women? What do you do?”

Number one sin. When you’re hitting on one woman, you don’t also hit up her friends. You ignore them. Craig was hedging his bet, just in case Jenna wasn’t the one he decided he wanted to go home with tonight.

“Engaged,” Liz said.

“Getting married in a week,” Tara said.

“Dating someone,” Maggie lied.

Smart Maggie.

Craig scooted his chair closer to Jenna’s. Ugh.

“So you’re a bartender, huh?”

“I am.”

That was the last thing he’d mentioned about her. After that she endured a half hour dissertation all about himself, his career, his aspirations, and how he’d risen to the top of his company’s food chain in three short years, including the big quarterly bonus that allowed him to buy his new condo he was certain she’d want to come over tonight and see. She tried to avoid yawning.

She threw some serious “help me” signals at Tara, Liz, and Maggie, who stood.

“Well, Craig, this has been fun,” Liz said, “but it’s girls’ night out and we need to go.”

He stood, too, turning to Jenna. “Wait. You’re leaving? With them?”

She wouldn’t laugh at the shock on his face. Really, she wouldn’t. Craig must not get turned down too often. “Afraid so. Nice meeting you. Good luck with the job.”

The slap of frigid air as they stepped outside never felt better.

“Wow. You were so right,” Tara said.

“No wonder I never dated much.” Liz shuddered. “Are all single guys like that?”

“Not all of them. But a lot of the ones I meet are.”

Which meant she was going to have a difficult time finding a date for the wedding.

FIVE

FINDING A MAN COULDN’T BE THAT HARD. JENNA worked around a sea of them. Men came through the doors of the bar often enough it was like catalog shopping. All she had to do was pick one.

Easy, right? Great-looking guys poured into the bar every night. Men with charming smiles who made good conversation. All she had to do was scope them out, talk to a few of them, and then ask one out and hope he said yes.

She was hit on all the time, but usually blew them off with a smile and a gentle no.

This time, she didn’t intend to say no.

She’d gotten busy after happy hour and stayed that way. No hockey game tonight, but there was a basketball game on. Anything that would bring people in to watch a game was good for business. And that meant men would come in.

She laughed. Never before had she been interested in men coming in. She cared about customers coming in, not what sex they were. Tonight she eagle-eyed every guy who walked through the doors, sizing them up as potential dates.

When a gorgeous man with a body to die for pulled up a seat at the bar, her radar started pinging. He wore crisp dark jeans and a button-down shirt, which he covered with a dark jacket.

Medium brown hair, cut short, and killer green eyes, with an engaging smile to perfect the look. She took a deep breath, a quick glance at the back bar mirror to make sure she looked okay, and went to take his order.

“What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay.”

Crap. “Sure.”

A wine drinker. Fussy and anal retentive. How could she not have noticed that his jeans had that crease down the center? He probably dry cleaned them.

It would never work.

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