Page 6 of Hotshot Mogul

Livvie was standing close to Bruce when I slid back into the booth. “Do you know what you want?”

“To save the trees.”

Livvie rolled her eyes like Isolde did when she lost patience. “I mean to eat.”

I laughed to hide my nerves. “Of course. Pancakes with syrup from maples. And fruit.”

“To drink?”

I glance at Bruce. “What was the fizzy drink? Oh, cola.”

“Is Coke okay?”

Bruce’s gaze didn’t leave my face. Heat rushed into my cheeks. When in doubt, smile, Grenmann had said. I looked at Livvie and did that. “I’ll take your menu,” she said.

Did she mean the list? I picked it up, hoping I guessed correctly. She snatched it away and turned to Bruce. She arched her back, bringing her breasts even closer to his face. “Whatcha want?”

He kept his gaze on the list. “Steak and home fries. And seven and seven.” He gave the list back to her and she left us.

“You don’t drink?”

Confused, I picked up the glass of water in front of me and drank it down. “I do.”

He grinned. “Snarky girl. I mean booze, alcohol.”

So, snarky was good. Isolde explained that humans drank spirits made from rye, barley malt, corn, wheat, and grapes, as they did when I was last in human form. The spirits relaxed them and loosened inhibitions, she explained. She couldn’t know everything about Étienne, then, or his love for anything he could guzzle that did just that. “Best not to take spirits,” she had said.

But Grenmann said a small portion of wine or beer wouldn’t hurt and could help to soothe my nerves.

“I would like some wine,” I decided.

Livvie stared at Bruce from across the room with such yearning. The back of my neck felt prickly. Why did the thought of him joining his body with her make me so angry? I had no claim on his heart or his body.

He looked toward her. She flew to his side. “Anneliese would like some wine.”

She looked at me, waiting. “What kind?”

Deer turds. I knew nothing about their wine. “Do you stock any from the Bordeaux region?”

Livvie rolled her eyes again. “I’ll check.”

I smiled and nodded.

“Bring a bottle of the good stuff, please.” He smiled.

“Be right back.”

Was a bottle bigger than a glass? I couldn’t remember. My head throbbed. Sweat trickled down my spine. I longed to flee outside for a moment to restore my calm.

Clink. A man at the next table knocked a small glass container to the floor. Sharp shards fell close to our booth, trapping me inside. My hands shook with nerves and hunger. Bruce noticed before I could drop them into my lap.

“Liv,” Bruce called. “Could you bring us some bread as soon as you can?”

Livvie nodded. A woman with a writing stick made from wood stuck behind her ear moved toward us. She carried what Isolde said was a broom and dustpan. She moved as if her body hurt. She swept up the bits closest to me, wincing as she bent over with the dustpan.

I stood. “Let me help.” I took the dustpan and held it while she swept the shards into it.

“Thanks, kiddo. My back is playing up today and our robots are out for service. I haven’t seen you here before.”

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