Page 59 of Falling for the Rockstar

“Wait, Simon made this?”

“Not directly. He told the barkeep what to put in it and how much. Pretty tasty if you ask me.”

“It is pretty nice. Not too sweet or tart.”

He gazes out over the water, and I can’t help but wonder what’s on his mind. “So, why did you travel all the way from the party to sit here with me?” I ask.

“I wanted to see how you were doing. You seem a bit sad.”

“Reflective, to be honest. Not sure how a few of the pieces to the puzzle no longer fit. You know?”

“What if there is a new piece that fits better?” He looks at me, and something in his eyes gives away his unspoken question.

I deflect and serve him a question I’d like an answer to. “So, what about you and Amber? Why have you been ignoring her?”

“Ah, the ol’ shield of diversion has been used. Touché, Ms. Johnson,” he chuckles.

“I’m just curious, that’s all.” I add.

“I do like her, but she comes on a bit strong at times. I get she’s been hurt before, but I’m not out to do that to her. I like her a lot.”

“Amber can be a little strong with her emotions. Just tell her how you honestly feel, and she will adjust. I promise. Those other guys just went along with her just to get what they wanted. But I think with you it could be real love.” I hope my words encourage him to call her and have an open conversation. I gulp down the remaining drink. “Boy, Simon really knows his stuff. This is quite refreshing.”

“Simon rarely, and by rarely, I mean never makes a drink for someone. Like, actually create it. You must mean something to him.”

“Oh, that I doubt. Simon is a connoisseur of women.”

“Did you ever think the right one may change those habits of his?”

His words play on repeat as I stare out over the ocean. Yet, I don't bother to respond. Instead, I stand and dust the sand off my backside.

“Sebastian, thank you for a lovely conversation. I’m going to go back up by the bar, hang out a bit and then turn in for the evening.”

A flash of light shines from the DJ area. I follow it and Reggie is waving us over.

“I think Reggie is waiting on you,” I inform Sebastian.

“Bloody hell. I didn’t realize I was out here so long.” He takes off across the beach, joining his brother and their friends.

The roar of the crowd grows louder as I approach. There are quite a bit of fans in attendance. A sing-along starts as Reggie begins to spin the mix medley of hits. The look on the band's faces is worth the slight adjustment in our schedule.

It makes me wonder what the last PR did for them, or if Simon was really that bad. Surely, I didn’t have that much influence over him.

Did you ever think the right one may change those habits of his? Those words are as clear to me as a ringing bell. “Surely Sebastian wasn’t suggesting I was Simon’s change?”

“Excuse me? What did you say, miss?” The bartender asks when I take my seat and share my thoughts aloud.

“Oh, I was saying I would like to have the same drink Simon Ashton sent to me. Do you remember how to make it?”

“I sure do. It’s been the top seller tonight. He told us we can add it to our list of drinks. Just call it the Myka in Miami.”

I’m taken aback. “Any idea why he named it Myka in Miami?”

He takes a shaker and fills it with ice. “So, we add the cranberry juice because she’s sweet and looks amazing in that color. Next, we add peach vodka because she has a beautiful arse. Finally, we add apple pucker because as sweet as she is, you try to mess with her, she will turn sour quickly. Shake gently, strain into a glass, garnish with a cherry and an apple slice.”

He slides me the concoction with a smile, but I can’t think of anything else except the layered description of how the drink got its name.

“Thank you,” I offer, along with a twenty-dollar bill.

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