Chapter 1 CHAPTER 1 Mel Sorrento stared at the black velvet box sitting on the Carrara marble bar top and tried not to roll her eyes. It wasn''t the guy''s fault, or the fault of the engagement ring that probably cost something like fifty grand. Mel was just tired of this bullshit. Love. Marriage. Putting unethical gemstones into champagne flutes. All of it. "So, okay," the guy said.
There was a fine sheen of sweat along his prematurely receding hairline. He was chalk white, his eyes darting around like he expected to be caught red-handed at any moment. "I told her I was going to the bathroom. She can''t see me, can she?" His head swiveled toward the back of the lounge, where the emerald velvet booths were more shadow than candlelight. "No, you''re fine." That was a tad optimistic. He actually looked like he was on the verge of fainting. Mel poured the guy a glass of ice water.
Proposals usually didn''t go well if the question-popper passed out in the middle of it. "Oh, thank you." The man reached for it, but his hands must have been as sweaty as the rest of him, because he fumbled it badly. It landed with a terrific crash, broken glass mixing with crushed ice, the water making a mess of cocktail napkins and menus alike. "Fuck! I''m sorry." "No worries." Mel swept up the glass with a rag and, without missing a beat, moved the ring box before the pool of ice water reached it. She cast an apologetic smile at the patrons seated at the bar, craning their necks to see what was going on.
Jessica, her fellow bartender, swept by in a blur, doing her damnedest to serve everyone while Mel was otherwise occupied. Mel mouthed a silent thanks as she delivered glasses of water to guests on Mel''s side; Jessica waved it off with a tap to her own wedding band. She knew the score: proposals took precedence. The ring guy, meanwhile, moaned like his guts were being torn up. "Maybe this is a sign that I shouldn''t ask her tonight. Would she really want to marry a guy like me? What if she says no? God, if she says no--" "Take a breath, friend." Mel caught his panicked gaze and held it. She was a good bartender, which meant she could stick an engagement ring in a glass, clean up a mess, and be someone''s therapist all at the same time.
Possibly, at some point, she''d even mix a drink. "What''s your name?" she asked. "Darryl." Yeah, he looked like a Darryl. "Everything''s going to be okay, Darryl," she said. That was a stretch, but who cared. "You''re here in this beautiful place on this beautiful night and you''re going to ask the beautiful--what''s her name?" "Pauline," he said with an exhausted sigh. "You''re going to ask Pauline something you''ve been wanting to ask her for a while now, right?" Mel swept the broken glass and ice into the beat-up champagne bucket she kept behind the bar for that exact purpose.
Glassware accidents came with the territory. Mel would know; she was at Terror & Virtue six nights a week, and the only reason it wasn''t seven was because they were closed on Mondays. "Pauline''s going to gasp and cry, and it''ll all be so wonderful, you''ll completely forget the part where you were nervous." She tried not to think about how she''d proposed to her now-ex: a frank discussion over morning coffee while rain pattered down the windows of their fifth-floor walk-up. She hadn''t been nervous because there had been nothing to ask, only the assumption that she and her then-girlfriend were on the same page. What a crock of shit that turned out to be. A few years after the vows, they weren''t even in the same book, let alone on the same page. Hence the divorce.
Darryl leaned on the bar like he couldn''t keep himself upright. "You think so?" His gaze went to the ring box. "And that won''t get, like, lost or anything? I''ve been carrying it around for so long, I''m kind of afraid to let it out of my sight now." "Trust me." Mel gave him a conspiratorial smile. "It''ll go off without a hitch. I''ve put hundreds of engagement rings in drinks." "Hundreds?" Darryl''s face fell.
"I didn''t know it was that. common." "Well--" Mel couldn''t help but give an assessing look at their surroundings: a bastion of carefully constructed opulence, the kind of cocktail bar that asserted itself as romantic and classy with prices to match. Terror & Virtue was a perennial darling of all those Must Visit lists for good reason: it was tailor-made for an impressive date or a public proposal. "It''s not un common." Did Darryl really think he was the first man to stick a diamond ring in a glass of champagne? Or rather, ask a capable bartender to do it for him? "I want this to be special," Darryl said. He sounded more like a whiny child than a man about to propose to his girlfriend, but at least he wasn''t hyperventilating anymore. "Is there something else you could do? Something more interesting?" Mel tamped down the annoyance that rose inside her.
This job paid well, but she deserved to be compensated extra for shit like this. She pasted on her best customer service smile and tried to think of something, anything, that would get Darryl out of her proverbial hair so she could deal with the rest of her guests. Thankfully she was saved from having to come up with a suitably romantic idea. Daniel--best friend, coworker, roommate, a real triple threat--appeared with his serving tray, nimbly skirting around a palm tree in a huge brass pot and stopping right next to Darryl. He picked up the last order Mel had managed to complete--two Keelhaulers, a tiki-style confection of rum and papaya served in a golden pineapple and topped with a ludicrous sugared-fruit skewer. His eyes fell on the velvet box. "I didn''t know you two were getting so serious," he said, tossing the sweaty guest a wink to let him know it was all in good fun. "Tonight''s a big night for you, eh?" His round face and sharply trimmed goatee gave him an air of friendly benevolence that guests always gravitated toward.
"Darryl here would like to propose in a unique way," Mel said. "What do you think we can do for him?" She took advantage of Darryl''s head being turned to lift a flute and make a slashing motion across her throat, indicating to Danny that the usual game plan would not cut it. Daniel hefted his tray on his shoulder. "Oh my god, well, first off, congratulations," he said to Darryl, free hand making his usual over-the-top gestures that tended to accompany his speech. "You''ve got nothing to worry about. Mel here is going to take good care of that ring." He stopped gesturing long enough to put his hand on Darryl''s shoulder and leaned in like they were old friends sharing secrets. "Why don''t you put it on a garnish? That way, your special someone won''t have to fish it out from the bottom of a glass.
Who wants that? Ugh, all sticky." He made an exaggerated face of disgust. Somewhere behind her, Mel heard another guest give a loud snort. She dutifully did not acknowledge it. One thing at a time. "That might work." Darryl turned back to Mel. "Do you think that''s special enough?" She schooled her face into what she hoped was a grave mask of professionalism.
"Pauline will love it." She knew she had no business promising any such thing; she could only pray this guy wasn''t going to get shot down in front of a packed house. Why did people do this--put themselves out there to be humiliated in public? "What does she usually drink? I''ll make you something bespoke." People liked hearing the word "bespoke." It made them feel fancy. As predicted, Darryl''s eyes lit up. "That would be great. She, uh, I don''t know? She likes fruity drinks?" Mel couldn''t imagine marrying someone who didn''t know her usual order, but to each their own.
"I have just the thing. Don''t even stress." Daniel piped up. "I will personally deliver the precious cargo to your table. For now, why don''t you visit the men''s room, splash some water on your face, take a couple yogic breaths, then we''ll get this show on the road." "Yeah. Yes." Darryl took Daniel''s free arm in a grateful grip.
"Thank you." He nodded to Mel across the bar. "And thank you for all your help. You''re right. It''s going to be fine." He released Daniel and walked toward the restrooms, shaking his hands like fans, as if he were working out a cramp. Mel gave Daniel a mild glare. "Now I''ve got to make an elaborate garnish, so thanks for that.
" She grabbed the ring box and put it in her pocket for safekeeping. It barely weighed anything. Hard to believe something so small could cause such a big fuss. "What are you complaining about? If she says yes, we''ll get a huge tip. You know how it goes." He blew her a kiss and disappeared into the crowded lounge, tiki drinks held aloft. Mel shook her head while she dumped the bucket of glass and ice into a nearby garbage can. She needed something long and pointy that the engagement ring could slide onto.
A sprig of fresh rosemary would be ideal--she could skewer a couple plump blackberries dusted with edible gold glitter on it, do a riff on a Ramos fizz for Darryl and his (fingers crossed) bride-to-be. Hopefully Pauline liked the combination of summer berries and orange flower water. Mel collected her ingredients, measuring them out with the ease of someone who''d done this a thousand times. As she clapped her Boston shaker shut and began her dry shake, she sized up the crowd. As usual, there were plenty of men in expensive suits leaning over flickering candles to speak in low murmurs to the women who accom.