DRUNK IN LOVE

The boat ride ended far too soon, and they made it to Le Poisson, a ritzy little restaurant near the docks of a neighboring island. Chinese paper lanterns lined the docks and white table clothed tables lined the patio, and there was the faint sound of live music from inside.
As they walked into the restaurant, he watched her visibly tense and her hands went to hold her short, floppy skirt down. He’d known that was coming. Le Poisson was a black-tie sort of place and she was wildly underdressed. Still, if she acted like she owned her look, no one would think anything of it. But judging from her hunched shoulders and unhappy expression¸ that was too much to hope for.
Drake put a hand to the small of her back in solidarity and guided her forward. “No backing out now.”
Sarah looked over at him, startled. “Oh, I wouldn’t. That’d be rude. And I want to be here .” Her smile grew overbright, and he wondered if that was Sarah’s version of flirting. It was awfully toothy. And was money the only reason she wasn’t backing out of this date? Damn. His ego had just taken a massive beating at the thought.
He guided her inside. The entryway to the restaurant was crowded with waiting people, but Drake Holt never waited. He kept his hand firmly on Sarah’s back and pushed forward. At the sight of him, the maître d’ nodded and grabbed two menus. He led them to a small, private corner of the restaurant, the white tablecloth lit in the center by an antique bubble glass lantern. Nearby, several couples moved on the dance floor.
Everyone looked in their direction, and he felt Sarah shrink a little more. He wondered if she had any idea yet as to who she was fake dating, or if she was getting an inkling, thanks to the quick service of the mâitre d’, who knew how to deal with celebrities.
Nah. She probably thought everyone was staring at her skimpy dress. She doesn't like public and now maybe the paparazzi pretending to eat too,Though she probably wouldn’t be wrong on that aspect, either. Drake caught a flash of black panties as Sarah sat down in the chair he pulled out for her. The mâitre d’ handed them menus, talking about the name of their waiter and the specials for the day, but Drake wasn’t listening. He was watching Sarah’s face. She stared up at the man, rapt, as if he were reciting poetry to her instead of fish specials. When he finally left the damn table, Sarah looked over at Drake and gave him a hesitant smile, and then opened her menu.
" You said it was private ate?."
" I thought." He replied looking sideways
Her eyes widened and she immediately slammed it shut again.
“Something wrong?” Drake asked.
She leaned forward, the menu pressing against her breasts in a rather delicious way. “Did you see the prices here?”
“No.” He flipped open the menu and scanned it, looking for something outrageous. “What’s wrong?”
“They’re charging fifteen dollars for a house salad.” She looked scandalized.
He chuckled. “Wait until you see the wine list.”
But this time, she didn’t smile. If anything, she looked more uncomfortable. Why is he doing all this or her.
A waiter stopped by and put down two crystalline glasses of water. “Welcome to Le Poisson. My name is Austin and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Shall we start with a nice vintage? We have a bottle of 2008 Didier Dagueneau Silex Sauvignon Blanc that has a lovely grapefruit scent. It makes the perfect compliment to seafood.”
And he guessed it was the most expensive bottle they had on hand at the moment, since they were in the VIP section. He shrugged. He preferred his alcohol hard, but wine seemed more civilized. “Wine?” He asked Sarah.
She hesitated a moment, thinking. He could practically see the wheels turning on her face, and he expected her to decline. Maybe she didn’t drink. But she nodded, her eyes wide again. “Wine sounds good.”
“Bring the bottle,” Drake told him. “We’ll take it.”
“Very good,” Austin the waiter said, and disappeared.
Drake sipped his water—now there was a fucking novelty—and watched Sarah reopen the menu and skim the pages quietly. “You’re looking for the cheapest thing, aren’t you?”
She looked up, startled, and then gave him a sheepish glance. “That obvious?”
“I’m paying, so order what you like. Even if it’s the filet mignon.” He gave her a teasing wag of his eyebrows.
To his surprise, her face turned a mottled red, and she licked her lips nervously. “Drake  . . . I . . .”
Oh hell. He’d let Douchey Drake out of the bag again, hadn’t he? “It was a tease, nothing more. I’m sorry if it alarmed you.” Christ, now he was apologizing for cracking jokes? Were his nuts in a sling? But she continued to look uncomfortable, so he added, “You should know that I expect nothing out of this date . . . except possibly to say thank you.”
Her smile brightened. “I think I can handle that . . .”
He put his hand on the table, palm up, and inviting her to put her hand into his. “Trust me.”
Sarah gave him a shy look and put her hand in his. “I do trust you.”
Those were rare words for him, he had to admit. Trust Drake Holt ? Normally he’d be laughed out the door. But this girl with her big eyes and her short body and the breasts that were practically falling out of her ridiculous dress? He wanted her to trust him. Drake squeezed her hand and then ran his thumb across her palm, enjoying her little jerk of response. “I’m glad, Sarah.”
Dear god. He was expecting Lilian. That was fucking horrible. “Must I?”
" What?.''
She gave a happy wiggle in her seat, which made her unbound breasts bounce . . . and dear god, it was painful to keep eye contact and not leer at the tits just begging for his attention. But somehow, miraculously, he did it. God, being Dull Drake suuuucked. But Sarah kept smiling at him, which somehow made it worth it. “All right then . . . Drake ert.”
He winced. Drake ert Holt was his “business” name, and he had started to hate every time he heard the second syllable of his name. “I prefer Drake . It’s what close friends call me.”
“All right.” Her smile grew broader, her hand flexing against his as he ran his thumb over her palm again. She had the most delightful full-body shiver every time he did that, so he was going to keep right on doing it. “Did you pick this place yourself?."
He hesitated for a moment. Did she ask him because she was suspicious ? Or was it simply an innocent question? He had no idea, but he figured he might as well throw it all out there. “Ashroff did .”
She merely looked thoughtful. “It suits me.”
“It does?” He’d eaten here with Lilian before they broke up,this was her favorite restaurant
“I think so. It is fancy.”
he knew she didn’t look convinced, but he noticed she tactfully changed the subject. “So . . . your friends call you Drake ?”
“Sweetie, I don’t have many friends.”
“I’m not your sweetie.”
Ah, a spine. So there was one under there after all. He liked a bit of sass in the right girl. “Fair enough. I apologize.”
She nodded. “Don’t apologize . . . cupcake. Just don’t do it again.”
He laughed.
She pulled her hand from his, and he was a little disappointed at the loss of contact. Sarah picked up the menu and studied it again, her shoulders relaxing a bit. “I don’t suppose you’re going to just let me order a nice bowl of soup?”
“Nope. It’ll go shi—er, badly with the really expensive wine.”
She looked unhappy. “Can I pay for my own dinner?”
“Do I look like a cheap piece of—uh, do I look cheap to you?” Fuck, this no-cussing thing was hard.
She lifted one eyebrow at him, her serious expression ruined by the silly grin on her face, and he found himself smiling in return.
“I suppose I shouldn’t ask that.”
“Probably not,” she teased.
They paused as the waiter returned, and Drake ordered for both of them—a surf and turf special so she wouldn’t protest the price. She looked mildly unhappy at the thought of spending so much money, but said nothing. When the waiter left, she leaned in again. “So, Mr.Holt—”
“Drake ,” he said warningly.
“Drake ,” she amended. “Are you here to see Lilian,she just walked in?”
It was clear she had no idea who she was.She hated that. To think that she might get to know a woman like Lilian without the inevitable turning up of her nose once she found out what she and Drake had in stock.One thing was for sure, she was damn sheltered if she didn’t, though. He—
They paused as the waiter gave them a spiel as he brought out the wine and showed the bottle to them. Drake barely paid attention, watching Lilian’s rapt face while the waiter told Sarah about the vintage and the flavor and poured her a glass, swirling it as he handed it to her.
To his surprise, Lilian walked towards him while Sarah downed the entire inch in the glass. She coughed and put a hand to her mouth, then pressed her napkin to her lips.
“Are you all right?” Drake asked.
She continued to cough and waved a hand. “Wrong pipe.”
He sipped his wine, and gave the waiter a nod. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”
The man gave him a concerned look but nodded and walked away, no doubt to laugh about Drake ’s date swilling her taster. Drake poured her another inch into her wine glass. “Do you enjoy wine, Sarah?”
“Oh sure, I drink it all the time,” she told him.
“A connoisseur? What kind is your favorite?”
She blinked and then pointed at her glass, eyes watering. “This one.”
Right. Somehow he doubted that.
She gave him a big smile and picked up her glass again, taking another big gulp as if to prove her point, and choking only a little this time. It was a little ridiculous, but also a little adorable, so Drake didn’t comment on it.
" Fancy seeing you here Drake."
" This is Sarah.,"Drake said as he stood up to hug Lilian while Sarah did same too.
" Mind if I join you?."
" Yes sure." Sarah and Drake chorused
The waiter returned a minute later, put down their salads, then disappeared again. When he was gone, Drake picked up his flatware and tried to turn the conversation back to the original topic . “Wedding?” He feigned ignorance.
Lilian nodded. “how it is going? I guess if I have to tell you, that means no, right?” Her mouth quirked in a rueful smile and she reached for the wine, taking a sip.
“I’m not here for the wedding,” he admitted falsely. “Sarah wanted vacation here.So here we are”
“You were going to miss my wedding?”Lilian ask with a bit of disappointment
Just as he’d suspected. Sarah wanted to groan in frustration. If reporters knew that Drake was out on a date with the bride ? After their little talk? She would think he was up to no good.
And he couldn’t blame her for that. Not after hinting of blackmail to the man. He’d definitely have to keep his relationship with Lilian on the down-low.
Because he definitely intended on having a relationship.
" Wedding seem like a lot of fun."Sarah said after five seconds of silence
“It’s pretty awful,” Lilian admitted, which made Drake laugh again. “I’m not a fan of attention as it is, and Lilian marrying a guy that seems to be a pretty big deal. I’m told this will be in the society papers and everything.” Sarah shuddered. “
“So are you never going to get married?."
Sarah gave Drake a vaguely reproachful look. “Because he’s my friend and I Don't think he is ever going to settle down with any woman."
" The wedding isn’t my thing anyways, It’s about love . And it’s not such a big sacrifice, really. And by the way I trust him ."Her expression grew soft with affection.
“I adore her.”Drake said
He grunted, spearing his lettuce. Hearing Sarah go on rhapsodically about Lilian sainted Wedding made him think he probably had no hope.
And wouldn’t the paparazzi love that. He could see the headline now. FIND LOVE OR STRIP ? The Man Channel’s billionaire owner must not have listened!
Yeah, fuck that noise. “Listen, Lilian, I—” He paused, staring at her.
She was gazing at something just to his left, her fork halfway lifted to her pretty pink lips, which were currently parted. She kept blinking, the look on her face incredulous.
So he couldn’t help it. He looked over at Sarah instead
At the next table over, two women sat, gazing over in his direction. It was clear they recognized him, based on the lascivious looks they were shooting in his direction. As he looked over, the brunette grabbed her blonde friend and they began to kiss and make out in a very obvious display. Lipstick smeared on their mouths as they tongued each other, both of them looking at him, and one played with the spaghetti strap of the other, hinting that she’d take the top off if he’d only ask.
It happened to him all the time. FIND LOVE OR STRIP was their biggest show and a bit of a legend. It was a game show in that they’d show up someplace public and offer a hot girl money to go topless. She either had to show her “Tits or ignore” And there were plenty of girls who were willing to take his money. Enough that they’d never have to show a single fucking rerun. Wherever he went, women tried to get his attention, and most flirty women knew that the best way to get a man’s attention was to coyly make out with the woman next to her.
Every dick in a room stopped for two chicks making out, after all.
Drake rolled his eyes at their antics and glanced over at his date. Judging from Sarah’s shock, she had no idea what had prompted this action. He leaned in, trying to distract her. “Island girls are pretty forward, huh?”
She looked over at him and her mouth closed. She nodded and put her fork down. “I’ll say. My goodness gracious.” Twin spots of color flagged her cheeks and she grabbed the glass of wine and chugged it again.
" I will take my leave now." Lilian said as she stood up
He was about to tease Sarah that her exclamation sounded like something his grandmother would say when someone walked up to the table. Oh hell. Drake looked up in vague annoyance to see the forward brunette standing at his side. Her red lipstick was smeared on her wet mouth, and up close, her lips looked over-plumped and injected with too much silicone.Be was about to see Lilian off when the girl came closer
“Just wanted to drop this off,” she said in a breathy voice, sliding a slip of paper with her phone number (or room number, depending on how forward she really was) toward his hand. She winked at him. “See you later . . . hopefully.” And she sauntered off, her hips swaying.
God damn it. Couldn’t a man eat his meal without being interrupted? He chewed angrily on a mouthful of lettuce, ignoring Marjorie’s shocked stare.
“Did you know her?” she asked. Her words were slightly slurred. Surely she couldn’t be drunk off of one glass of wine, could she?
“Nope. I can honestly say I’ve never met that girl.” Hundreds like her, yes. That one in particular? No.
“Is that her phone number?” she asked in a low, hurt voice. As he watched, she took another gulp of wine. A droplet or two ran off the corners of her mouth and landed on her cleavage.
He stared at those beads of glistening liquid, then shook himself. Fuck. This date was turning into a hot mess. He had to save this. He didn’t want the girl that had just left—chicks like her were a dime a dozen. He wanted the one that walked out on him, the one that couldn’t hide what she was thinking if her life depended on it. The one that was currently getting married because he didn't give her what she wanted. So he grabbed his napkin and pried the lid off of the lantern at the table, revealing the small candle and flame within. He took the girl’s number without unfolding the paper and fed it to the candle.
Sarah gave him a hesitant, confused smile. “Boy, they really are forward, aren’t they?”
“Indeed.”
***
By the time they got to dessert, Drake ’s date was plastered. Sarah had downed half of the bottle of wine and was currently staring at him with a dopey, glassy-eyed expression, her chin resting on her fists. The angle of her arms made her small tits sit right on the tabletop, and the deep cleavage of her dress made them practically spill out.
And still, Drake didn’t look. Christ, it was hard being a gentleman. He even glared at their waiter when he hovered over Sarah for too long, daring the man to take one look in that direction and he’d get no tip whatsoever.
“So what are you thinking, Sarah?”
That silly smile on her face grew wider. “That you’re so pretty.”
He gave her a faint smile. “That so?”
“Yeah,” she said dreamily, gazing at him. “I never dated anyone quite so pretty as you.”
He was going to retort that men weren’t really pretty, but the conversation was heading in a much more interesting direction. “And do you date a lot?” he asked.
“All the time,” she said, and then shook her head, contradicting her words.
He frowned. He understood a girl getting a little drunk on a date, especially if she was as nervous as Sarah. But she was past tipsy and well into plastered. “You want to eat some bread or something?”
“Nope, I’m good.” She reached for her wine again.
He reached over and switched her glass to water.
***
The rest of dinner was a mess, in Drake ’s opinion. They chatted and laughed about simple, easy topics, like the weather, the resort, and the size of the portions of the overpriced but tasty food. Sometimes, Sarah was cute as a button. She’d laugh at all his jokes, throw in a few corny ones of her own . . . and then would ruin it by chugging more wine. It was baffling. It was frustrating, too, because there were glimmers of greatness in their date, only to be ruined by drunken giggling or a dopey, glazed look from his date.
And Drake dealt with enough drunks in his day to day work. He sure didn’t want his date acting like one. So he rushed them through dinner, hoping it’d stop her from drinking so much wine, and practically snatched the bill up when it came time to pay.
She reached for it, too. “We should go half.”
“I’m not a cheap fuck.”
She gave him a prim look, and then giggled into her wine. “I can pay my own.”
Yeah right. He knew how much she had a right now. “Again, I’m not a cheap fuck.”
“All right,” she said, smiling happily over her glass of wine. “Just do me a favor and tip him well. He did a good job and they’re short-handed.”
That observation surprised him. “How can you tell?”
She nodded as the waiter sailed past them, carrying a pitcher of water. “He’s got two sections, and the other one’s clear across the restaurant. He’s having to hustle tonight, so I’m guessing that he’s covering for someone.” She gave him a little smile. “I told you I was a waitress, right?”
“Nope. You didn’t.” His assistant had told him that, though.
“Yeah. Nothing fancy here.” She shrugged. “Been meaning to go back to college, but I took a semester off and just never went back.”
Drake glanced down at the thirty-dollar tip he’d left and added a 2 in front of it on the receipt, then showed it to Sarah “That okay?”
He expected her to protest, being so incredibly stingy when it came to the food, but her eyes lit up and she positively beamed at him, regarding him like he was a fucking hero. “That’s so wonderful, Drake . You’ll make his night worth it.”
“If that’s the look I get, I’ll add another digit in front of it,” he said, taking the receipt back.
Laughing, she smacked his hand. “Don’t!”
He nodded at the nearby dance floor. “Now that we’ve eaten, want to dance a little?”
To his surprise, the open expression on her face cooled and she shook her head.
“Why not?” She’d been giving the dance floor little covert glances all throughout dinner, and he figured most women loved to dance. “I’m not totally fu—uh, terrible. Just mostly terrible.”
She smiled. “It’s not you. It’s me.” She pushed a leg up one side of the table. “I’ll tower over you. People’ll stare.”
That was all it was? “Let them stare.” But when she shook her head again and crossed her arms over her chest, he wondered about her ugly shoes. The night she’d gotten out of the cab with her friends, she’d been wearing a pair of classy black flats. Tonight, with him, she was wearing ugly black heels. “Is this why you’re wearing those shoes? So you aren’t quite so short?”
She licked her lips and said nothing.
“So you’re short! So fucking what?”
Her eyes widened.
He mentally cursed himself for slipping a five-letter word in there. “What I meant to say was that it’s not a big deal.”
“I’m shorter than most women.”
“I’m smarter than most women. You think that’s bringing me down?”
She just gave him a look.
“You’re an amazon,” he agreed. “There’s no hiding that.”
The look on her face grew hurt, and he had a vague feeling like he’d kicked a puppy.
“Let me tell you something,” he said, leaning in. “If they have a prolem with you being shorter than your date, that’s their issue, not yours. Your legs are gorgeous and they look amazing in heels, and I’m a selfish enough guy to insist that you wear something that makes you look great. And if you’re way shorter than me, so what? I’m secure enough in my masculinity to not give a . . . a . . .” Hell, he couldn’t think of something that wasn’t vulgar. Give a fuck? Give a shit? Give a rat’s ass?
“Darn?” she supplied.
“Yes. Darn. I don’t give a darn.” His mouth curved. “Now will you please come dance?” It wasn’t like he was fucking dying to dance. Hell, he was a dude. He hated dancing. But the opportunity to press Sarah against him and see those long legs moving in that short skirt? He was totally on board for that.
“Well, all righty then,” she said happily. “Lessdance.” She got to her feet and nearly knocked the table over as she stood, and Drake reached out to help her.
“You okay?”
“I’m great,” she enthused, her face flushed.
He wasn’t so sure about that, but they headed to the dance floor, Drake ’s arm anchoring around Sarah’s waist. In heels, she was pretty much the same height as him, and he liked that. The music changed to a slow, sultry song, and Sarah’s arms went around his neck, her loose breasts pressing against his chest. And Drake forgot all about not staring, because her tits were small and sweet and pushed up against him and how could he not look down?
“Are you having fun?” he murmured as they began to sway to the music.
“A lot of fun,” she said in that slurred, breathless voice. Her gaze fixed on his mouth and she leaned in. “Can we kiss?”
As much as he wanted to, he shook his head. “You’re pretty drunk, Sarah.”
She shook her head violently. “Am not!” And her knees sagged. “Whoa, I think the floor moved.”
He groaned and hauled her against him. “Stand up, Sarah. You’re drunk.”
She giggled and clung to him, staggering. “It’s breezy in here!”
People were staring at them, and Drake checked her dress. Covered up top, but the bottom had slid up. Fucking perfect. He tugged it back down for her and then looked for the closest chair to deposit her in, since she was no longer even trying to stand up straight. The bar was only a few feet away, so he hauled her there and planted her on a stool. “Stay here,” he told her. “I’ll go get your purse.”
Sarah giggled and made a big show of pointing at the bar. “Right here.” It made her top slide down one arm, her breast nearly falling out.
He adjusted her clothing, trying not to feel exasperated. This night was turning into a fucking disaster. “Just stay here, okay? I’ll be two minutes.” He hustled back across the restaurant, looking for their table. To his dismay, it had already been cleared and Sarah’s purse was nowhere to be seen. He looked for the waiter, instead.
Naturally, he was nowhere to be found. Drake waited a few minutes, impatient, and then when he still didn’t show up, he flagged down another waiter. “I need my date’s things,” he told the man. “Where’s my goddamn server?”
The man looked startled. “What section are you in?” When Drake showed him, he nodded. “He’s on break right now.”
“Then go fucking find him,” Drake gritted. “Right goddamn now.”
“Of course.” The waiter disappeared, and eventually Drake ’s waiter was located, the purse retrieved. He headed back toward the bar, hoping that Sarah hadn’t fallen asleep waiting for him.
She hadn’t. She was leaning close to a guy at the bar who was looking down the front of her dress, and giggling as she tossed back a shot.
Furious, Drake stormed over. “Sarah what are you doing?”
She turned around on the barstool and beamed at him, all cleavage and drunken smiles. “I’m doing shots with this lovely gentleman!” She patted the man on the arm. “He’s so nice, and he bought them for me.”
“You shouldn’t be doing shots,” Drake told her. “Not after all that wine.”
“Lay off, man,” the guy said and slid her another shot. “She’s just having a little fun.”
“Tony,” she said, “This is my date, Drake . Isn’t he pretty? he brought me here to impress is ex ...." she belched drunkenly
Tony looked him up and down. “Nope. You’re more my type, darlin’.”
“Not your darlin’,” she said merrily before swigging the next shot. She coughed as soon as it went down. “Ugh, that one was rough. What was it?”
“Tequila,” Tony answered.
“Sarah, come on,” Drake said. Hell and fuck. Why was he the one being all responsible and shit? But the way “Tony” was eyeing Sarah made him want to punch the fucker’s lights out, and Sarah was too tipsy to realize it was a bad idea to take drinks from strangers. “You really shouldn’t be doing shots.”
“It’s okay,” she told him. “Liquor after beer, never fear.”
“It’s liquor before beer,” Drake corrected, putting a possessive hand on Sarah’s back. “And you can’t handle your alcohol either way. We should return.”
Tony stood up, all five foot three of him, and sneered at Drake . “The lady can do what she wants, friend. She ain’t married to you.”
“You want to make this a fight?” Drake asked, getting in the smaller man’s face. Oh, he was just itching for a fight. Brawling was something that he excelled at.
A low “urp” made both men pause. Drake turned back to look at Sarah, who had her hands clenched firmly on the wood lip of the bar. Her face had gone pale and sweaty, and she blinked at Drake . “I . . . don’t feel so good.”
Then she turned and vomited at his feet.