Chapter Three
“The tragedy in this whole situation is a perfectly good dinner was sacrificed. Darling, if it’d been me, I’d have pulled that shrimp right out of my bustier and nibbled on it just to spite his pompous a*s,” Sean said. He took another sip of his cocktail. “Mmm…what did you call this thing again? It is absolutely delish.”
“A Smoky Mary. It’s a b****y Mary made with smoked salt, jalapenos, and fresh tomatoes. It’s my very own creation. Since I crashed and burned at my journalism gig, a smoky drink was fitting,” Quinn said glumly. “I get a dream job writing about food and I blow it. I’ll have to go back to working in the advertising department at the Times, if they’ll even take me back. No job. No money. No man. That’s it. I’m done with romance. I’m giving up on men for good.
