“No.” She stiffened, and her eyes widened. “No, no, no.”
“Yeah.”
Her frantic gaze held his for a second. Then her eyes closed on a groan, and she leaned her head into her hand. “Oh my God.”
Zach wanted to ask why she was so dead set on talking to Ian but wasn’t sure he’d like the answer.
“Jack,” he called to the bartender. “She’s ready for more wine now.”
She ran both hands over her face and groaned in an exhausted gesture.
When Jack came toward her with a wine bottle, she muttered a dejected “Oh, what the hell. May as well drink. I don’t have to keep my brain sharp for anything now.”
“Ouch.” Zach chuckled. “I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I can usually hold my own in a conversation.”
She sighed with a shake of her head. “Not what I meant.”
Jack held the bottle high and let the liquid stream two feet into her glass with a theatrical “Sparkling wine for my lady.”
She leaned away as the wine hit the bottom of the glass and splashed. With her hands up, she turned her head with a husky giggle, and the sound prickled the skin across Zach’s chest.
Jack offered a self-satisfied “Good to see you smiling again” and moved down the bar.
“What a showoff.” She laughed softly as she picked up her glass and used it to gesture toward Zach. “And thank you.”
Okay, that did it—the giggle, the ridiculous suit, her lack of interest, and some mystical quality he couldn’t pin down—he was officially interested. “Sparkling wine, in a club like this. You’re like a misplaced princess.”
“You have no idea.” Her next laugh was real, one that added color to her cheeks and sparkled in her eyes. Her smile was fucking electric. “Oh so misplaced.”
Maybe for the space and the clientele. But the way she stirred bubbles around Zach’s gut, he was beginning to think she was right where she belonged. His mind strayed to thoughts of what she might be wearing under her suit and what she’d be like when it was all stripped away. “Where do you think you should be?”
“DC.” She nodded as if confirming. “I should be in DC.”
“Washington, DC?” he asked. “Is that where you’re from?”
“Few people are actually from DC. But it’s where I live. Do you live here?”
“Temporarily.” Zach found himself a little disappointed that she lived across the country. “I have a shack in LA the rest of the time.”
“Hmph.” She laughed around a sip of wine. “Aren’t shacks outlawed in LA? I thought the streets were paved with gold.”
“Then you’ve obviously never been there.”
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Um…maybe once. Long time ago. Ever been to DC?”
“Nope.”
She grinned, and her expression was far friendlier now. “How did I know you’d say that?”
“One of my brothers lives there.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a campaign manager of some kind.”
“Has he managed any names I’d recognize?”
“I wouldn’t know. We aren’t close.”