Page 34 of Worth the Risk

Maybe this is exactly the kind of disruptive, life-altering event I needed to snap myself out of whatever fog I’ve been living in.

“Fresh from my hands”—the bartender lifts the glass, placing it down in front of me—“to your lips.”

“Thank you.” I offer a genuine smile, trying to rein in any flirtatious vibes that I might unknowingly be throwing his way in my buzzed state.

When he steps away to help a few others who have gathered, I lift the glass, savoring the tartness of the olive juice followed by the burn of the vodka. The last time I remember drinking three full martinis was the night after I called Metzler, Dodson & Dodson, turning down their very lucrative offer after agreeing to go into business with Austin, who was still a literal stranger to me at the time.

I had convinced myself it was in celebration, that I was making the right choice, but looking back, I was terrified. At the time, I thought taking the job at the firm was the easy way out and I was ready for risk, craved it actually. And while the risk has paid off financially way more than I had ever expected—I lost Noah in the process, my relationship slowly deteriorating the more successful the firm became.

The martini numbs my tongue as I feel myself sink lower onto the bar, my chin once again resting lazily in one hand, the other dragging slow circles around the rim of my glass. Suddenly the aftertaste gets to me and I push the glass away from me.

“Change your mind?”

“Yeah, could I bother you for a whiskey instead? Neat.”

He whistles. “Rougher night than I realized. Any particular brand?”

I ignore the presence of someone sliding onto the stool next to me, even the soft brush of material against my exposed arm not grabbing my attention.

“Ummm…” Squinting, I try to read the labels on the lit-up wall behind him. “Honestly, I don’t know whiskey so wha?—”

“Macallan, eighteen if you have it.” Austin’s smooth voice interrupts me, sending me spinning around in my stool so fast I almost fall off it.

“What are you doing here?”

“Saving you, apparently.” He laughs, his hand darting out to steady me on my stool. “From falling and bad whiskey.”

“Macallan eighteen it is,” the bartender says.

“Make it a double,” Austin replies, his eyes not leaving mine.

“I’ve already had two martinis and part of a third; I can’t handle a double.”

“Don’t worry.” He winks, his arm lazily resting on the backrest behind me. “I’ll make sure we go nice and slow with it. You can handle it.”

Unlike the bartender’s attempt at a flirty wink, this one is downright devilish, sending my stomach into a catapult of flips. His arm behind me flexes and my eyes are drawn to the thick vein that runs up his bicep, disappearing beneath the short sleeve that struggles to contain him.

I know my mouth is hanging open right now… but what I don’t know is if the look in his eyes is just wishful thinking on my part in my half-drunken haze.

What does two and a half martinis worth of alcohol mixed with a week of replaying that damn kiss over and over again in my brain equal… Me, completely and utterly fucked.

CHAPTER 12

Austin

“Two and a half martinis, huh?” Her buzz is written all over her face, making me smile. It’s not often Taylor Harrington is caught under the influence.

“Why are you here again?”

“Was in the neighborhood.” I shrug, slowly taking in her appearance. “I decided to stop in for a drink after work.” Her silky dress, already too short in my opinion, is pulled up her thigh slightly from the way she’s sitting in her chair.

“In that outfit?” She nods toward my shirt and jeans. “Looks more like you went home and changed after work for a date.” Her gaze narrows. “Wait, are you just pre-gaming here with me before your date?”

“No and I could say the same to you.” My eyes dip to where the dress exposes her slim neck and a generous portion of her cleavage compared to the necklines she normally wears. “And here I thought it was just drinks with Becca.”

“It is—was,” she says defensively. “She left early; Hector got a break in his schedule which never happens.”

“And now you’re just getting drunk alone?”

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