"Oh yeah, I did didn't I."
"Annie," he scolded. "Don't lie to me about this, it's not going to make you cooler. If you're feeling tipsy, I want to know before we go any further."
"Further?" She waved a hand in front of his face, just missing his nose. He backed away and caught it, lowering it to a safer position. "I'm fine. This is nothing. My Dad's clients were always trying to get me drunk when they came over."
"I can imagine." He stared into her eyes until she pushed him gently in the shoulder.
"Don't stare."
"I'm checking to see if you're drunk. You're looking a little—"
"Zack!" The screech turned both their heads in the direction of the smiling blonde bouncing towards them. "Zack DiMarco is that you? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, hi Melanie. I'm uh, just having a drink with a friend."
Friend? She'd reached friend status? The night was getting better and better. Now, if only the room would stop spinning...
The blonde, Melanie, swooped on Zack and planted a kiss on his cheek. A long kiss. He pulled away and glanced at Annie. Hmmm, interesting. Was he worried about what she thought? But what he did next answered that question in the negative. He placed an arm around Melanie's anorexic waist and pulled her to him. The mounds of her high, round br**sts met him at eye level. He stared at them openly. Melanie giggled.
Annie rolled her eyes but her heart wasn't so cynical and it took a dive. So that's what he liked in a woman—big br**sts and fluffy white poodle-hair. The tabloids hadn't lied.
She didn't stand a chance.
Not that she wanted to have a chance. He wasn't her type—he was way too big-headed. And way out of her league.
She tapped her fingers lightly on the bar as she watched them chat easily. They seemed like old friends, and by the way Melanie draped herself over him, they'd probably been lovers. Or perhaps she just wanted to be.
If the situation wasn't already awkward enough, as the conversation dragged on, it became downright uncomfortable and even Zack seemed to want Melanie to disappear. He withdrew his arm and his smiles became strained.
It was time to lighten the moment.
"Um, excuse me, Melanie," Annie began. Zack turned first, then Melanie somewhat reluctantly when she realized he was no longer paying any attention. For the first time, the blonde seemed to notice he had a companion. "Um, can I ask you something? Something personal?"
Melanie perked up. "Ooh, I like these sort of conversations. What do you want to know, Sweetie?"
Annie tried to keep a straight face. "When you go swimming, do you float?"
Zack passed a hand across his face and groaned.
"Oh no," Melanie said emphatically, placing a palm over her bosom, "I never go swimming. It turns my hair green."
"How unfortunate," Annie said.
"It sure is! You're so lucky to have mousy colored hair."
"Mousy!" What a rude bi—
"Okay," Zack said, rising quickly, "I think it's time we left, Annie."
She turned and glared at him. "But I was only just getting started," she said through gritted teeth. "Let's stay and chat to Melanie for a while. She's so...witty."
"I think you've had enough wit for one night. We've got a long drive to get you home."
She cursed him under her breath but stayed rooted to her stool. There was no way she would attempt to stand while Melanie was still around. With the floor still spinning, it would be embarrassing enough to do it in front of Zack—she didn't need the poodle laughing at her as well.
"It was nice meeting you, Melanie," she said politely. "I hope we'll see you around somewhere." Like hell.
"Oh, Zacky, that reminds me. Louisa's having a party on Wednesday night. You're coming aren't you?"
"I don't think so—"
"Oh, but Zacky," Annie crooned in imitation of Melanie. "We simply must go to Louisa's party. Just think what a great opportunity it would be."
"Opportunity?" Zack and Melanie said together.
Annie winked at him. "Yeah, for that little project of yours."
"Oh, yeah." He nodded. "Looks like we'll see you there, Mel."
"Yes," Melanie said sharply. "I'll see you there. Both of you. How lovely." She glared at Annie through lashes curled almost to her eyebrows.
Annie made a mental note to look absolutely stunning the night of the party. Well, as stunning as a B-cup woman can look next to two hot-air balloons.
Finally Melanie marched off and Annie decided it was safe to get up. She stood and the floor moved under her. Zack caught her before she fell.
"Mmm," she murmured as the muscles in his arms flexed. "Nice."
He let go as if she were poisonous. That stung and she sighed. He must still be afraid of encouraging her. Well, now that she'd seen his type first hand, she could see why. Letting people think he was dating a mousy, dull woman would harm his reputation as LA's wealthy playboy. She sniggered. She couldn't let that happen.
"Can you walk?"
"Of course I can! I'm not drunk."
"And I'm an alien."
"Are you?"
He sighed and his arm snaked around her waist again. She smiled and snuggled into him. It felt like her feet were gliding across the floor. She glanced down and noticed that they were—Zack was practically carrying her.
But looking down was a bad move. Her stomach lurched.
She moaned.
Outside, Zack propped her up against a light pole, bending her over at the waist. The hand on the back of her neck was cool and steady.
"Your body's all wrong for drinking," he said. His voice sounded strangely disembodied.
"My body's fine," she snapped, clutching her churning stomach.
"I know," he murmured. "That's what worries me."
Before she could work out what he meant, her stomach heaved and she threw up at the feet of the man of her dreams.
***
Annie fell asleep in the Ferrari on the drive back to her place. Zack turned the volume on the CD player down so as not to wake her. Every time he stopped at a red light, he glanced at her peaceful form. Her head rested awkwardly on her shoulder, her lips parted slightly and she breathed evenly. She looked almost angelic. She'd certainly not been an angel when she threw up all over his shoes.