Page 6 of Betting on Lizzie

“Do I need to call the police?” she asked, pouring his drink.

He waved a hand and shook his head. “My buddy’s flaking. Now I’m stuck with those yahoos.” As he said it, the “yahoo” she knew approached.

“Lizzie, we want to do shots,” Dax said, sidling up beside the man. He tipped his chin to the bottle in her hand.

Lizzie held up the Don Julio, her finest tequila. “This is añejo. It’s not for shots,” she said.

“Why not?” Dax asked. “What’s the difference?”

The man spoke before she could answer. “Añejo is for sipping. Reverently,” he said, a touch annoyed if she wasn’t mistaken. She passed him the drink. He took a small sip and hummed his appreciation.

“Oh, Ben,” Dax said, slapping the añejo lover on the back. “We’re celebrating, not pondering the wonders of the world. Lighten up.”

“Heathen,” the man named Ben mumbled, making her chuckle.

Lizzie lined up six shot glasses on a tray, poured, and pushed them toward Dax.

“I miss you, Lizzie,” Dax said woefully, clearly pushing past tipsy. He turned to his friend. “You don’t wanna get mixed up with her, Ben. She’ll break your heart.” He took the tray of drinks and returned to his booth.

“Boyfriend?” Ben asked.

“Not for long,” Lizzie said. “Can’t date someone who doesn’t appreciate fine liquor.”

He nodded and handed her thirty dollars. “No change.”

Hm. Generous paired nicely with tequila connoisseur. She stuffed the money into her bra, and he raised an eyebrow. She winked and turned away to take orders. Not that she was stalking him, but out of the corner of her eye, she watched him go sit with Dax and his boisterous friends. Calmly sipping tequila, he looked out of place—like an uncomfortable wallflower planted in a bed of weeds. Five minutes later, when she glanced over again, he was gone.

She stayed till closing, helped lock up, loaded Charlie into the SUV, and drove home. It was dark and cold, and she was tired, so after a quick jaunt up the waterfront to allow Charlie to pee, she hustled inside.

She’d no sooner shut her front door and dropped her purse when her cell phone rang. What the heck? It was two in the morning. This couldn’t be good.

“Hello,” Lizzie said.

“Lizzie,” Bella whispered. “It’s Bella. I need help.”

Lizzie jotted down the address and left immediately, leaving Charlie sleeping on the couch. She pulled into the driveway of a huge lakefront Victorian. Hip-hop music blared from inside. Probably some rich kid throwing a party while his parents were out of town. Bella waited for her on the front porch, rubbing her arms up and down to keep warm.

“What’s goin’ on?” Lizzie asked. Bella smelled of alcohol and was unsteady on her feet.

“It’s my friend, Maya,” Bella said. “She’s pretty drunk, and there’s a guy here giving her a hard time.”

“Why don’t you guys leave?”

“Our friend Taylor was the DD. We were supposed to spend the night at her house, but she got sick and left us stranded. I didn’t know who else to call. I don’t want Uncle Edward to know, and Maya’s dad can’t find out either.”

“Let’s go find your friend,” Lizzie said, heading toward the door.

Bella panicked when Maya wasn’t in the living room. “I shouldn’t have left her. She obviously didn’t want to be alone with Devon.”

Lizzie searched the house, starting with the bedrooms upstairs. High-pitched protests came from behind one door. She shoved it open and found a teenage boy with his arms around a terrified girl. Both were still dressed, but experience had taught Lizzie how quickly this kind of thing could go south. The kid was a good foot taller, so to make sure he heard her, Lizzie grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back.

“Beat it,” she growled into his ear.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your worst nightmare,” Lizzie said. “Get your sorry ass out of here. Now.”

The teen wisely backed out of the room without saying another word. Bella ran to Maya, who was crying. “Are you okay?”

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