The bartender finishes our drinks and hands them to the young man, never asking for a tab or accepting any cash.
“If I give you this drink, will you promise not to turn me in?” He looks at me with big brown eyes, and I feel like I can't possibly say no.
“Well, I guess I can let it slide. But, if the real owner comes in here, I'll have to let him know,” I say.
“Well, cheers to spies,” he says, raising his glass. I tip mine to his, then drink. He takes a sip, then asks, “What's your name?”
“I'm not telling you, James Bond,” I reply.
I like him already, but he doesn't know about me. He doesn't know that we aren't supposed to meet for a few more days. I don't want to ruin things. I won't let Aunt Sophia and the family down. I need to play this carefully.
He shrugs. “If I can guess your age, will you tell me your name?”
I shrug back. “By all means.”
He takes a step back, looking at me up and down while his hand rests on his chin. His eyes linger in all the right places, staring at my hips, my curves, my breasts. Finally, his gaze goes to my eyes. “Twenty,” he says. “They should probably card you.”
“Not even close, Bond,” I say truthfully.
He shrugs. “I'm not sure I believe you. Let me see your driver's license.”
My jaw drops. “I am not showing you my driver's license. You probably just want to see my name.”
“Well, either that or your height and weight, but I'll settle for either.”
My jaw drops again and I lightly slap his chest. It's a flirty thing to do, and I can't believe I did it. I'm not supposed to be flirting with him yet. “I don't drive anyway, I take taxis everywhere.”
“Walking around without a driver's license?” the man asks. “The cops could have a field day with you.” He takes another look up and down my body, as if he'd like to have a field day with me right now.
I lift my drink in the air. “I guess you're not the only rebel tonight,” I say. He cheers me and takes another drink. I have to think of a name to tell him, so I think of the first Bond girl that pops into my head. “Vesper.”
He pauses, then shrugs. “Vesper, huh? Alright, sounds like a fun name for tonight. It matches James Bond.”
Again he looks at me with those dark eyes. There are secrets in those eyes. A hint of danger and a whole lot of sexiness. I like the way he looks at me. I like the way my body heats under his gaze.
“Alright, Bond. Tell me, what brings you here to New York?”
“Maybe I've got a hot date,” he says.
I bet you do, I think to myself. You just don't know it yet.
“Really? Are you meeting her here at the bar?” I ask, mocking a look around.
“I think I just met her,” he replies.
That one takes me off guard. If only he knew. I just smile and clink glasses with him again, finishing my drink off. “So, are you going to get back on that piano and play some more?”
“That depends. Will you lay on top of it in that red dress?”
“You know, I'm not just some piece of eye candy. I can probably play better than you can,” I lie.
His eyebrows shoot up. I can't tell if he's impressed or if he doesn't believe me. “Then let's go play a duet.”
I nod my head, but as soon as I move to stand up from the bar stool, the little voice in the back of my head pipes up. This is a bad idea, it says. He doesn't know who you are. He doesn't know your family. This can end so bad. You are in rival families right now.
“On second thought, Bond, I'll just sit here and enjoy listening to you play,” I say.
His broad shoulders slump for a moment, but his smile returns just as quickly. “Suit yourself. This next one's for you.”