In the living room of the hotel suite, Louise stood with her hands in the pockets of her capri pants, leaning against the bar, watching Martin vigorously shake the cocktail shaker from across the way.
Before coming over, Martin had specifically changed into a fitted V-neck T-shirt, which outlined his muscular figure perfectly.
Kelly sat atop a bar stool, arms crossed, feeling that Martin's movements and posture while mixing drinks were even more artistically appealing than when he was at House of Beast.
Retrieving a chilled glass, Martin poured in the cocktail, then clamped a delicately folded paper airplane as garnish on the rim, "Paper Plane, please taste."
Louise gazed at the orange-red, translucent liquid, lifted the glass to take a careful sip, elegant and delicate, yet smooth and refreshing.
This was a flavor of cocktail she had never tasted before, a completely new invention.
This drink alone made the night worthwhile.
