“Oh, then I’m definitely not a wallflower. I’m not beautiful.” She hid behind her drink, taking a sip. “You don’t even know who I am, Mr Storm.”
“I though your name was Not-Beautiful, gorgeous,” he said cheekily, “I’m sure everything else about you can be discussed over a drink or two?”
Summer blinked at him, then at the glass she was holding. “What, the drinks here aren’t good enough?” She raised it to him. “Or this is you trying to get me drunk?”
“What?” he said, mocking shock, “That you would think I would ever try to get anyone drunk. The audacity.” He winked at her and snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
That drew a burst of laughter out of her. “It’s not worth your time anyway. There’s nothing I’ll do drunk that I wouldn’t also do sober. Which if you knew who I was, you’d already know.” Summer tipped back the last of her drink and put the glass down. “Why don’t you guess?”