Running her finger around the rim of her empty glass, Summer glanced away, eyes flicking to the tv, and back. “Enough to be extremely surprised that you comprehend my use of the word.” She turned in the chair enough to fix his blue eyes with her green ones. “You can’t lie to me, Damon.”
Damon narrowed his eyes, giving her a sly smile. “I can. I probably will. But for now, humor me. What’s your name?” he asked, eyeing her. He could manipulate her if he wanted to. He knew it would be just as easy to do as it was with the bartender — but he was bored. And he wanted to have some fun.
Summer gave him a narrow-eyed glance, but let it go. He would believe her, or not. It didn’t matter. “My name is Summer.” She tilted her head toward the bartender, and asked, “Why did you do that? It really is simpler not to meddle in their heads.”