Billionaire’s Ecstasy: Whiskey and Regrets

Crystal

"Don't look now, but there's a cute hunk of a man seated some metres off to your right," my best friend, Alexandra, whispers in my ears.

I don't even look at all as I raise the shot glass in my hand to my mouth and down the contents in one quick gulp.

The liquor burns my throat as it makes it way down to my stomach and I give off a reflex shiver after the burn is gone. I've never been good with alcohol, but that's never stopped me from drinking it. And I think after what I've been through today, I deserve a bottle or two. I just might be on my second bottle by now with all the shots I've been taking since we got here.

We're in an exclusive bar a far way off from the campus, a place I've never been before. I could tell it was expensive when I saw the price of the tickets Alex had to show before we got in. Unlike me, my best friend's love life is goals. Her boyfriend is a quarterback for the college's hockey team and he's from an influential family. He spoils Alex silly and dotes on her so much that I admit I've gotten jealous about it once or twice.

She was supposed to come with him to this bar but when she called me shortly after I'd tossed Dave out of my life, and heard me crying on phone, she had come over to my apartment and made me get dressed.

Now, we were sitting in one of the most comfortable seats I've ever sat in a bar and taking shots. Well, I'm the one doing most of the drinking. Alex has been on the dance floor showing off her moves for so long that my body's starting to ache on her behalf.

"Give me another one," I tell the bartender who looks like he's just about had it with me.

"No, don't give her another one," Alex retorts, waving a finger to the bartender. "I didn't bring you here to get drunk, Crystal."

"I think I'm allowed to get drunk today," I whine loudly, so she can hear me over the music.

"Come on, get up. Let's go dance."

"Not in the mood."

"You know, we don't get into nice clubs like this every night. Are you going to waste your night here just drinking because of some dude who broke your heart?"

I look up at Alex with my drooping eyes. I know I'm not drunk yet, but I can tell that the alcohol is starting to have some kind of effect on me.

"Have you ever walked in on your supposed straight boyfriend sucking a d**k better than you do?" I ask her.

I can tell from the look on her face that I've spoken too loudly, and now people are probably staring at us.

"Honey, the fact that Dave was a douchebag doesn't mean you have to sit and sulk," she says, trying to cheer me up.

"Also doesn't mean I have to notice every 'cute hunk of a man' seated near me," I add.

I can literally hear Alex roll her eyes at me.

"Don't let me stop you from having fun, Alex. I'll be fine," I tell her, grabbing another shot glass from the stack. "Go, dance, sing, do whatever it is they do in this ridiculously expensive place that will make you happy. You don't have to go sleep alone tonight."

"You're being such a killjoy," she tells me as she heads off, after kissing me softly on my cheek.

"I'm allowed to be one tonight," I yell after her.

When I look up, I see the bartender staring at me with a sober expression on his face.

"I'm..sorry," he mutters.

I feel myself go red in the face as I realize he must have overheard my conversation with Alex as well. Why wouldn't he? I was so damn loud.

"If you really feel sorry for me," I begin to say, sliding my empty shot glass at him. "Get me another shot."

"This one's on the house," he smiles at me as he picks up his shaker and starts mixing my drink.

I'm still watching the bartender do his thing when I hear someone slide into the seat beside me. I'm not one to be freaked by a guy, don't ask how I can tell he's a guy, but the whiff of his cologne that permeates the air has me turning my head in his direction.

"Oh. My. God," I mouth out.

"Sorry?" I hear him say, turning to look at me.

Shit, he heard me, I say in my head, shaking my head at him and returning my attention to the bartender who slides my shot to me.

"Thank you," I whisper and clear my throat when he raises a cheeky brow at me.

"Scotch with gin. On the rocks," the man beside me orders.

You'd think that after getting my heart broken today, fantasizing about how I'd smell if I got into bed with a guy who smells like heaven would be the last thing on my mind.

But I console myself with the fact that Dave cheated on me with another guy. If this guy beside me is gay, I bet he would totally hit on him too. My femininity is not up for dispute. I'm still as desirable as any girl could be, even though I don't know how true that is right now with the outfit I have on.

Screw the guy Alex was trying to point in my direction. This man beside me is the real deal.

"How's your drink?" I hear a voice say and it takes me a minute to realize the question is directed to me.

"Okay, I guess," I answer with a nervous chuckle.

"You haven't touched it."

I raise the glass and gulp down its contents, grimacing when the burn hits, my eyes squeezed shut. When I open them, the man is staring at me with an amused smirk, just as the bartender slides him his own drink.

"I suppose you're new to that burn," he voices out.

"And from the sound of things, you're quite familiar with the burn," I reply.

He shrugs and downs his own glass. But he doesn't squeeze his face and grimace like I do. In fact, he looks like he's just had a small sip of water.

"You expert drinker. Are you an alcoholic?" I ask.

I wouldn't usually be this outspoken to a total stranger. I guess alcohol has its perks. The man looks at me like he didn't expect I had it in me to ask him that question too.

"Has any alcoholic ever admitted to being an alcoholic?" he retorts with his amused smirk once again.

"Good point," I laugh. "Camilla Bell."

As a rule of thumb, I never give my real name in a bar or club. But that's because most of the bars and clubs I frequent are usually those cheap, dingy ones around campus, and I can't risk meeting a classmate or a professor there who'd recognise me in the morning.

The makeup on my face is enough to pass for a disguise, and so, if this hunk is my professor, by morning he wouldn't know who I was when he saw me in his class.

"Cole Blue."

"That's definitely a fake name," I snort.

"What makes you say so?"

"What kinda name is Cole Blue?"

"You're a Bell. Why can't I be a Blue?"

"Oh," I snort again. He's playing with me, calling me out on my tactics.

"Well, then. Let's leave it at first names. I'm Camilla and you're Cole," I decide, meeting him in the middle.

"Fair enough," he smiles.

That's the first time I've seen him smile and my God, it is gorgeous.

Now I'm not sure if this guy is really as cute as I'm seeing him right now, the alcohol in me manifesting, or whether the fact that I haven't been laid in more than two months is making me admire every single feature he possesses. I hope for his sake it's the first.

"So, care to share what's making you drink so much?" I ask, trying to strike up a conversation and draw him away from our fake name saga.

Did you catch your straight girlfriend in bed with another woman? My brain asks, but I'm grateful it doesn't leave my mouth.

" I haven't had that much."

"I've been watching since we started talking. That's your third. And you're drinking it like it's water, which is scary. Are you a psychopath?"

"First, an alcoholic," he chuckles. "Now a psychopath. Any further guesses, and you just might figure out my career for real."

"Oh, please," I roll my eyes laughing.

"You've been drinking long before I got here. And from the looks of things, it's not something you enjoy. Care to share why you're still holding up with the shots?" he asks.

"I came home to find my boyfriend sucking a d**k," I blurted out with a sigh.

There's no point in telling him a lie. My name's already a lie. But when I look at him, I can tell from the look on his face that he thinks I'm making it up.

"I'm not lying," I clarify, and he exhales deeply, running his fingers through his hair.

"Sorry about that."

"Eh, it's okay. You're not the one who broke my heart, but you're apologizing. I'll take it. A win for the menfolk."

He leans forward and laughs.

"I told you mine. What's yours? That's your fourth glass, by the way," I tell him as he raised his glass to his lips and slides it back to the bartender a second later.

"I'm getting divorced."

I blink and then nod slowly.

"Sorry to hear that. How long were you married?"

"Less than two years. I'm not even hurt about the divorce. It has been a long time coming. But the fact that the people I thought would understand why this is happening are pissed at me. Well, some of the people. One person who does understand brought me here."

There has to be something about alcohol that makes people open up to total strangers. Instead of polygraphs at police stations, they should give criminals large quantities of alcohol, especially if they're lightweight, and get them cracking. More cases might just be solved.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he shrugs. "Like I said, it was a long time coming. Your...situation is a lot sadder."

"I guess so," I sigh. "But, at least now that I know you're sort of single, I won't feel bad if we end up in bed together later tonight."

Oh my God, Crystal, my mind yells at me internally. You did not just say that.

"I meant..."

"I know what you meant," Cole says.

His voice has taken on a husky tone all of a sudden. Did he sound like that ever since and I'm just noticing it now?

"So if I were to ask you back to my hotel room, you wouldn't decline?"

Don't say yes, Crystal. He's a total stranger.

"I don't think I have a reason to. Provided you're not gay, of course," I find myself saying.

Fuck it. I haven't been laid in so long, and besides I'm single. I might as well let my hair down and have some fun.

He throws his head back and laughs and for a minute, I'm embarrassed at the fact that now he probably thinks I'm desperate.

"But I don't think I can follow you to your hotel room, though," I add, trying to salvage what's left of my dignity. "I barely know anything about you."

"I think I can say the same for you. You gave me a fake first, remember? But yeah, we truly don't know ourselves well enough. So, let's see," he says, tapping his chin. "I work in a real estate and investment company. I'm not gay, and just like you, I'm hurting from a, well, let's just call it heartbreak, even though my divorce is more of a relief than it is a heartbreak."

"At least you're not my lecturer. That's a plus."

"So, you're a student?"

"Yes. Got any problems with that?" I ask, jutting out my chin.

"Nah. It's fine," he shrugs. "We were all students once. Have I now earned the luxury of knowing your name?"

"Crystal. No surnames."

If I want to maintain some sort of anonymity, at least my surname can still be hidden.

"That's a pretty name," he says, smiling.

"Thank you. And what's yours?"

"Nathan."

"You look like Nathan," I chuckle as he takes another shot and turns the glass upside down.

I get my phone out and shoot a text to Alex as he's paying for his drink. She replies to me with her favorite stars-in-her-eyes emoji, and I chuckle.

Nathan rises from the bar stool and holds his hand out to me when I finally look up from my phone.

"So, Crystal, shall we?"

Fuck Dave. I'm about to get laid by a real man.