She might give me hell for this, but I figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Swinging off the stool, I scooted past the umbrella cloaked tables and through the back swinging door of the restaurant.
The burst of cool air conditioning attacked my face and I sucked in a deep breath through my nose.
But that was the only bit of calm I had before I spotted him at the end of the polished bar.
His hand gripped around a half-empty pint glass, the sleeves rolled up and his jacket swung over the chair.
His smile highlighted those high cheekbones and were those freaking dimples he was flashing at the waitress?
Dammit. Stop. Checking. Him. Out.
Frankie emerged from the kitchen, holding another full martini glass that he slid in the empty spot next to Adrian’s chair before he looked over at me with a two-finger salute.
Adrian’s gaze went from the still talking waitress down to the glass then slowly raked through the bar until his eyes were combing over me.
I squirmed, shifting my weight from one shoe to the other, trying not to let him see my nerves.
I had absolutely no plan on what to say, but there was enough limoncello coursing through me that I’d be able to get something out.
With all the strength I could muster, I barged through the space between us then leaned on the stool next to him, trying to ignore how good his woodsy cologne smelled. “You need to drop your proposal for the empty lot and give it to the animal shelter.”
He nodded for a second, slightly narrowing his eyes before he shook his head, that smile splitting across his face.
“Yeah that’s not going to happen,” he muttered before taking a swig of his drink.
“It is if you want to get re-elected.”
I grabbed my own drink, taking a big gulp and hoping the liquid courage could do something before I lost my nerve.
He raised an eyebrow, leaning his chin on his hand. “And tell me, how would denying the members of this community and neighborhood a new coffee shop and other amenities do not get me re-elected.”
I plopped down on the bar stool, racking my brain for everything Aubrey and I had just talked about, and even Frankie, trying to ignore the heat that radiated off his body that was not doing favors to my already thumping heart.
“There is a Starbucks five minutes from here, but you know what there isn’t that close? A green space. Somewhere not only dogs, but kids could run around. Have you seen this neighborhood? Hell, even just this restaurant.”
I held my hand up, taking another big swig of my drink as his eyes darted behind those wire-framed glasses, hopefully noticing tables filled with booster seats.
“So, what you’re saying is we need to put in a fast food place with a play area?” He raised his eyebrows, that smirk visible behind his frosty glass.
“What? No. That’s the opposite of what this neighborhood needs.”
“And tell me, is it, Melanie? How do you know what this neighborhood needs?”
“Because I’ve lived here all my life. Right up the road on Maple. When I was younger the only park we had was going to the school or the minimal bit of turf in the backyard. Hell, even just walking my parents’ dogs or any dog for that matter, and they’re going to find the first palm tree they can that’s sort of green to relieve themselves. Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if they had a spot they could run and an area for kids to play too?”
I let out a breath, hoping my rant got through his thick head as he stared at me, nodding slowly.
I sucked down the rest of the drink, my brain now fuzzy. At least it was better that the adrenaline coursing through me was from anger and not whatever else was going on with the fluttering in my chest from that damn smile on Adrian Chase.
Another limoncello dropped in front of me, courtesy of a winking Frankie.
I needed to stop and get back outside before Aubrey knew what I was doing, but I was too far gone.
And by the smirk on Adrian’s face, he knew it too.
“Are you trying to invite me to walk you to your house, Melanie?”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing my drink before I could think it was time to stop. Better than the alternative of really thinking about how his words rolled down my stomach and into other places.
“That’s what you got out of all of that? God, you really are a political prick, you know that?”
He laughed a deep belly laugh that had the butterflies in my stomach doing somersaults.
Not good, especially now that I had a gut full of two and a half glasses of Limoncello.
“A political prick? That’s a pretty good one. What should I call you then? Do-gooder Damsel?”
“Please, I am not some sort of damsel in distress who needs your saving.”
“But you do need me to get the city to approve the park.”
His words sliced through me and a cold chill spread up my arms.
“I’m not going to sleep with you to get a vote,” I said, my hand shaking as I brought the drink to my lips.
He didn’t laugh this time, his gaze focused intently on me. “I didn’t say anything about sleeping, did I?”
I almost choked on my drink but quickly swallowed it. “Is this how everything gets done in politics? The boys club? If so, maybe I don’t want to be a lobbyist,” I muttered.
“A lobbyist?” His voice rose slightly.
“Yeah, you know the people who lobby to get things done?”
He nodded, the smirk softening to a half-smile. “I know quite well about lobbying, I worked as a page for Senator Samuels for a while and those ambulance chasers were always up in arms about something.”
“I’d hardly call someone trying to help a good cause an ambulance chaser.”
He leaned in and I swore his lips were close enough to brush against mine as I sucked in a breath.
“Most of the people coming to his office or the senate floor were trying to get more trans fats in restaurants. Arguing that we shouldn’t put calorie count on menus or take away MSG. The two years I spent there; I’d seen more people who thought the world needed more hamburgers than health food.”
“Well, that’s not all lobbyists,” I sputtered.
“What kind of lobbyist would you want to be, Melanie?” He cupped his chin with his hand.
This should have been when I excused myself. When I went back out to Aubrey and pretended like all of this never happened.
But the Limoncellos were really strong and this was the first person who asked me what I actually wanted to do.
Everyone else just nodded their head and gave me a small smile after I said I had a degree in Politics.
So, I took the bait.
And didn’t listen to the better parts of my brain.
“My original hope was women’s issues. The pink tax has got to be one of the most asinine issues.”
“Can’t argue that one.” He cradled his beer. “But why original hope? Thinking about a different career now?”
I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “I’m slowly learning that to get involved in any part of a political career you have to know someone, thus how I ended up interning at the animal shelter.”
“Longtime friend of the Batemans?”
I laughed. “I used to serve them coffee at Starbucks.”
“So, what you’re saying is, if this park doesn’t work out, I can see about you managing the new one at my strip mall?”