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CHAPTER 21

"So, this is Sam—actually, Samantha—but if you want to survive, don't ever call her that." Warm brown eyes and long dark hair in the most flawless French braid I've ever seen, this woman in her early twenties has Dan grinning at her.

The music, slow-beat hip-hop, isn't so loud that he has to yell to be heard because the night hasn't really begun yet.

"Hello, Lily." Sam grinned.

Dan gestures to two men who are behind the bar. One man, with black hair and appearing to be in his late twenties, is mixing drinks so quickly that it appears as though he is blurring. "Goody. An exceptional mixologist. He is capable of making every cocktail that has ever been invented. And yeah.

Grady nods towards me in between drinks, but his gaze never leaves the five glasses that are arranged in front of him on the bar.

Then Dan gestures to the opposite end of the bar, where a lovely blonde's drink is going to be knocked over by a blond guy with a practised smile. Not that he would know, what with his preoc
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