“The first thing I notice when I chew on this swizzle stick is that there’s no drink around it,” repeated Amy, now feigning a laugh. Wasn’t he going to buy her a drink? Where was this guy when God handed out manners anyway?
“Ha ha very funny,” smiled Cole, remembering that women are stupid. “That swizzle stick you’re chewing on represents my second million dollars. I’m thinking of having my attorney get me a patent for flavored swizzle sticks. I’ll make a fortune. I’m going to be the ‘flavored swizzle stick king’.”
“Second million?” repeated Amy, “how did you make your first million?”
“Well,” bluffed Cole, “I plan to make my first million on flavored swizzle sticks too.” Something was different about this day. Cole did not usually hear his own utterings. “I plan to make my first million on flavored swizzle sticks too,” he repeated, this time to himself. "I am such a loser!" Amy looked like the type of girl he had dreamed of marrying one day. Today Mike was marrying someone he loved. Cole tried to distract himself from the anguish gripping his chest.
Cole's attention shifted as a tuxedoed girl who looked barely 21 entered behind the bar. “F - i - n - a - l - l - y,” he enunciated as slowly as he could, “get us a couple of your finest Mojitos, on the double?” Cole noticed Amy’s perfume. He sniffed a couple of times to see if he recognized it.
“I would be happy to make you whatever drinks you like,” smiled the young blonde bartender, “but I’m brand new at this job. Just tell me how you’d like me to make it. I’ve only heard of that drink before - never made one."
“Great! Looks like I’m going to learn about a new drink,” grinned Amy, somewhat relieved that he was going to buy her a drink after all.
"Nope - never smelled this before," decided Cole, "must be one of those cheap perfumes no one has ever heard of."
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