Page 6 of Whiskey Splash

Arie smiles like she just won the lottery. “As I see it, you have two options. One, I re-seat you—out there!” She points to the main dining room. “In full view with all the fans and selfie-snapping mayhem. Or—” Arie turns around and stands up, taking the brûlée harness from my hips.

“What are you doing?” I protest.

“Or,” she continues, brushing my hands away, “you can stay here in this booth and keep my sister entertained for the next couple hours.” Arie pushes me into the booth, across from Desmond.

“Arie!” I complain. “What are—?”

“Your meal will be on the house, of course,” Arie says to Desmond, ignoring me.

“I thought you needed extra servers tonight?” I push, but Arie raises her hand to silence me.

“Esme is not an employee,” Arie explains to Desmond. “She doesn’t work here. She was doing me a favor. But instead, I’m going to do one for her. I’m going to give you two the full four-course experience. You enjoy your evening with my sister and I’ll spare you the ravenous fans. Sound good? Excellent.” She doesn’t wait for him to respond. “Now, what’s your poison? Whiskey? Vodka? Gin?”

Desmond looks at me, surprised by Arie’s directness, and probably more than a little embarrassed by what Arie is doing. But then he smiles and shrugs, as if to say,“Why not? You only live once.”

“I’ll take vodka,” he says, that deep tone in his voice laced with amusement. Arie nods, triumphant, and points to me.

“Are you still in your gin phase?”

I glare at her. “I’m still in my ‘why didn’t I murder you in the womb’ phase,” I say as pleasantly as I can, to which Desmond laughs.

“Good, she’s pissed,” Arie says, dropping a hand on Desmond’s shoulder like they’re already best friends. “Trust me, bedding my sister is going to be one of your great life challenges. May the odds ever be in your favor.”

Desmond laughs again as I cover my face with my hands, every inch of me mortified-magenta. That’s a new crayon color I’m inventing, right after they approve murder-your-sister red. Arie thinks she’s been so amusing, but the truth is I’m ready to walk out the door and never speak to her again.

“Brilliant,” Arie says, stepping back to look at the two of us on either side of the booth, facing one another. “I’ll send over my best waiter in a minute with your drinks.”

“You’re a good chef,” I hiss at my sister. “But you suck at playing matchmaker! I’m going to kill you later.”

“Oh, Esme, Desmond,” she puts a hand on each of our shoulders, addressing us both. “Please don’t think this is some sweet romantic gesture. Flambé is all about turning up the heat!”

She reaches into the torch harness she confiscated and pulls out the small squeeze bottle of lighter fluid. She grabs two wine glasses from the serving nook behind her and coats the glasses with the liquid and puts them in the center of the table. She lights both on fire with a dramatic roar of flames that makes both of us shoot back from the residual heat.

“Damn!” Desmond exclaims, surprised, holding up a hand to block his face from the warmth.

“That’s right,” Arie agrees. “All I’m trying to do is get you both laid.”

“Arie!” I glare at her, sneaking a glance at Desmond who charmingly seems to also be blushing.

“Good!” Arie announces triumphantly. “Now that we’re all on the same page. Welcome to Flambé!” She lights the goblets on fire one more time to make them blast with flames, before whooshing off like a sorceress making a dramatic exit.

I drop my face into my hands, completely mortified, not daring to look up. “I am so so so sorry!” I say through my fingers, shaking my head furiously. “I can’t believe she just did that.”

“Wow, just—” I peek through my fingers and Desmond looks just as dumbfounded by my sister’s actions as I am. “You either have the best sister in the world or the worst.”

“Definitely the worst,” I groan, daring to put my hands down. On the other side of the flaming goblets Desmond shakes his head, stunned but amused, and surprisingly not pissed off. “If you want to go,” I nod to the side exit, which he can freely use now that my sister’s gone and he has the chance, “I totally understand. My sister can be … abrasive.”

“I was going to go with totally bat-shit crazy, but we could use abrasive if that helps you sleep at night.” He smiles warmly and my heart settles a bit, of course it’s still over-palpitating, but maybe not quite enough to throw me into cardiac arrest. “Does she do this to you a lot?”

“Definea lot?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “I mean, it’s not usually with people who are famous.” I gesture to him. “Nor does she so overtly suggest…” I motion with my hands, trying to keep this from being too crass.

“That I bang her sister and then give her a good Yelp review?” Desmond offers. “That kind of thing? Not so overtly that?”

I shade my face from him, my cheeks burning. “Yeah, usually she’s a bit more tactful.”

“That is hard to imagine.”

I nod, agreeing. “Yes, there are a lot of things that are hard to imagine Arie doing until, well, she’s doing them. The ironic part is that thisisher being nice. She has a warped sense of what nice really is, but…”

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