“Where is Liam Lions?” I ask. “Isn’t this his birthday party?”

“What says rich asshole more than being late to your own party?” Cecy asks.

Maria elbows her. “Don’t be a bitch; he’s just building tension.”

I roll my eyes. “Like anyone really cares about helping him celebrate his birthday? They probably are just happy to get all this free expensive wine and fancy food.” I point toward the packed parlour. “You think a guy who works all the time really has this many genuine friends? Most of these people probably just want to kiss his ass so they can get better business deals or whatever.”

Maria shrugs. “Even if that’s the case, they still want to see him and be seen. So he’s building tension.”

It suddenly strikes me that being this rich must be a bit sad and isolating. I look around the room at all the beautiful women and dashing men laughing and drinking together. None of them probably really want to be friends with Liam, and Liam probably knows that. It’s like having all this money has distanced him from the rest of humanity, and this is the closest he can get to human connection--paying through the nose for it.

I suddenly hear the overwhelming buzz of hushed whispers, and notice everyone is staring and pointing discreetly in the same direction. I redirect my attention in the direction of the entranceway in time to see my mystery man walking in with a woman draped on each arm.

I scowl, and then it hits me.

“Is that Liam Lions?” I ask incredulously, tilting my head toward the obvious guest of honor.

“Duh,” Cecy says. “You don’t even know what Mr. Lions looks like?”

Crap! The guy I had been talking to on the bench was Liam Lions? He lied to me! He pretended like he was a bartender, and I talked crap to him about rich people – about him – right to his face!

The women on his arms are twice--maybe three times—hotter-looking than me. I realize he can have any woman in the world that he wants, and he was just toying with me. He really is just an asshole. He probably has already forgotten that I even exist.

The guests all start moving toward him, wanting to get their shot at kissing his ass.

I continue pouring more drinks and collecting more tips as I watch Liam circulate around the room, paying lip service to each of his guests. Faking smiles, forcing laughter--I feel sorry for him, actually. He never knows if anyone likes him for real, or if they just want something from him. He was such an asshole to me, though, so no, I decide that I don’t feel sorry for him. I realize that he even let me be late! And he laughed at me when I finally realized just how late I was.

“Liam resembles the bartender you were describing, Amber,” Maria says. “He’s not the one you were thinking of, was he?”

“No,” I say, anger burning in my gut. “Of course not. It must have been the guy you two were pointing at earlier.”

Liam finishes his drink and puts the empty glass down on a table. I see him lock eyes with me and then start walking right toward me.

Damn it. There are ten bartender stations, and he picks mine. I liked my odds of not ever having to talk to him again.

Liam strides right up to us, and Cecy and Maria snap to attention. “What would you like to drink, sir?”

“Hmm,” Liam says. “I’m not sure. What do you recommend?” He looks right at me.

Maria begins to speak, but he shakes his head. “Her,” he says, nodding in my direction. “I’m asking her.”

He redirects his full attention to me and grins. As mad as I am at him, his smile is captivating.

“Uh…” I mumble.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get your name earlier,” he says. “I’m Liam, by the way.”

“Amber,” I say, glaring at him. “So you’re not a bartender?”

Cecy’s and Maria’s eyes bulge, as they try--and fail--to pretend they aren’t hanging onto every word we say.

“If I had told you otherwise,” he says, “You would have felt obligated to leave, and I could tell you were enjoying the view.”

I scowl at him. I feel like he’s just messing with me. He’s a smooth talker, and I’m not. Anything I say at this point will just make me sound bitter and dejected, so I hold my tongue.

“I’ll have, uh…” he says, pointing at a glass, “that one.”

I pick up the glass and hold it out to him. He takes it, his fingers brushing softly against mine. They linger for an extra couple of moments, and his touch feels as if an electric jolt is going right through me. My heart is pounding, and once again he raises his eyes to lock on mine.

His fingers slip away as he takes the glass from me. He reaches a hand out to me, and I dumbly extend mine. He grasps my hand and says, “Pleased to officially meet you, Amber.”

I feel something in his hand, and he leans in closer to me and whispers, “For being dishonest with you.”

His hand slides away, and I realize it’s a thick wad of money. I look down at it in surprise.

“Holy shit!” Cecy says, as Liam walks away.

“How much money did he give you?” Maria asks.

I stuff it into the pockets of my baggy pants, and my face burns red. “I don’t know. Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

I bite my lip. I don’t know whether I should be furious, or charmed. He thinks he can throw money at anything and get whatever he wants? But, on second thought, he did apologize, didn’t he?