Thoughts of skinny blondes evaporated when he turned around and saw Micky—with her smoky hazel eyes, red lips, and curvy, delicious body. She walked toward him. Suddenly, it hit him that he was playing with fire. He should have a simple drink so he could strike up a friendly conversation about Azur. That's it.
Instead, Nick couldn't peel his eyes from the way her black pencil skirt hugged her hips. The skirt wasn't short, but a creamy line of leg extended down to a pair of black heels. Her outfit was all business, but Nick's mind had wandered far from business. Nick found himself wondering how her long legs would feel wrapped around him.
"Hi," she said. "Long time no see."
Nick determined to keep his mind on track. Charm her. Be nice to her. Get her to open up—her mind, not her legs. "What happened with the hot date?"
"Too soon to tell."
Her eyes lit up with mischievous flirtation. Nick opened his mouth to answer her, but all speech left him. He smiled and thanked God when the bartender slid a martini glass in front of Micky and gave him a reprieve.
"Micky! Doll, are you working too hard? I haven't seen you since the Memorial Day party." The bartender gave her hand a pat. Micky rolled her eyes, but smiled. Who the hell is this guy?
"If I don't work, how will I afford my martinis?" Micky picked up the cloudy, chilled vodka martini spiked with an olive and took a sip. "Nick, this is Andy, the owner. Andy, this is Nick. He...he works in my building."
Andy extended his hand over the bar, and Nick paused for a split second before shaking it firmly. The two men surveyed each other. Nick didn't know what to make of his familiarity with Micky. Andy obviously knew her well enough not only to know her drink, but to deliver it without prompting along with flattery and what Nick thought was a cheesy grin. Did she fall for this stuff?
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