19
CONNOR
“We have to celebrate.” I went to the kitchen and returned with the bottle of Dom Perignon I’d kept on hand for the day we made an important find…or the night I finally got Lynne in the sack, whichever came first. I must admit, I was hoping for the latter.
“None for me,” Lynne said with a dismissive wave. “You go ahead, though.”
“You don’t like champagne?” I asked as I searched the cabinets for substitutes for proper glassware among the mismatched pieces Lynne owned.
“It doesn’t like me,” she lamented. “I don’t hold any kind of alcohol well.”
“One glass,” I urged. “I can’t celebrate alone.” I tried to imagine her intoxicated and suppressed a smile. Did I want to get her drunk and have my way with her? Of course not. I wanted a willing participant.
Lynne hesitated, then rel
