✔️The Greaser and the Skirtchaser [18+]

36. One Summer Night

Blake flashed a measured smile. "Welcome to the Golden Row. What may I do for you, miss?"

The lady who just came was all dressed out in sleek, elegant white from the wide-brimmed, stiff sunhat to the pencil skirt to the opera gloves. She'd been looking at Harry spinning one the regular songs out on the ivory when Blake came over, so when the lady turned, slate-gray eyes and a small smile glimmered at him from beneath that hat. "Whatever's strong. Please."

"Of course." He broadened his smile into a grin, and he sent her a wink which she received with a soft laugh behind her fingers. She had a transatlantic accent like she was straight out of those Hollywood movies. She looked like she could've been an actress, too. He stirred up the rye, vermouth, and some bitters. "Waiting for someone?"

"Oh, no," she answered softly. "No, I'm not. You see, I was staying here for a visit, and I'm to depart back home to Virginia tomorrow."

"Then, isn't it a stroke of luck that I should get to serve you this Manhattan tonight?" He poured one out into a chilled martini glass in front of her and slipped a cherry in, so one shiny red pearl hung from the stem off the rim. The aesthetics were half the drink.

"It looks delightful. Thank you."

He laughed quietly for her. "I aim to please."

He gave her a quick glance, not enough to be rude but enough to show that he was paying attention to how she was dressed. She noticed and looked away.

"Pardon me. I didn't mean to stare, but it's not often that I get the pleasure of serving a lady this beautiful." As she laughed, he started cleaning the cup and looked at the liquors on his right. He should tell Chester to restock on the rum. Shit. He probably should've kept a closer eye; older gentlemen were usually here on Sunday evenings with their wives, and they loved rum like nothing else. He glanced at her again, figuring he ought to make conversation. That was what most of the folks came down here for—someone to lend an ear. "If I could ask, who had the pleasure of your visit? You've come a long way from Virginia to Albany."

"My aunt. She's quite ill."

"Terribly sorry to hear that." Blake saw another lady come in wearing a simple light blue dress with a wide skirt. She looked around for whomever she was meeting. He looked back toward miss Manhattan. "Tell you what, the drink's on the house."

"Oh, no, please don't."

"No, I insist." He really didn't feel like charging her; she had plenty on her mind, and it was nothing for him to just let this slide. "I'd like nothing more than for you to just enjoy your evening here."

He greeted the woman in the blue dress, and she already had an order for a martini and a rum and coke for him. He saw a ring on her hand, so he gave her a sanitized smile. "May I interest you in an old fashioned instead of that rum and coke?"

"An old fashioned? My husband is quite particular. He only likes rum."

"Bourbon is a very good substitute, and we've just got a new brand that's very popular with the gentlemen here."

"Lovely. Then, an old fashioned." She watched Blake get started on that martini pretty closely, but she stopped him with a smile. "Before you finish that, what do you recommend for the ladies?"

"Our Tom Collins is quite popular as a classy pick." Gin was all the rage these days, and it only got more popular around winter. He should probably get Chester to stock more on that, too. "I'd recommend that for a lady."

"Well, what about me?" Her eyes crinkled.

Blake looked away. "How about something sweet and low proof?"