“For the record, the Southern accent is just an English one, more relaxed.” His eyes fell to her hands as she mixed his drink, watching her progress with no small interest. He winked, the effect somewhat lost behind the black domino, showing only as a flash of one black-limned lid.
“And I’m the Dread Pirate Roberts, thank you. Sometimes known as Westley.” His smile deepened - and with it, the scar at his cheek. “You should know pirates always take what they want, Baroness. What good is a costume if you can’t get in character?” His hand stretched out, slim fingers plucking at a thin cocktail napkin.
Fee laughed as she misted the inside of his glass with a spray of vermouth, then poured the chilled liquor into the glass.
“You know what they say about costumes, Westley,” she told him as she plunked an olive into his glass, laid a cocktail napkin down, then set the drink on it. “They’re just excuses for girls to wear a third of the clothes they normally do.” She grinned at him as she slid the martini over to him. “Oh, and something about how they say a lot about the people wearing them.”
She took the next order, a mango mojito, from the customer standing next to him. As she quickly dropped the mango, mint, and lime into the glass then poured the simple syrup, she said, “I’m guessing you’d have shoved past all these nice people and then flashed your cute little smile at me whether you were wearing that getup or not, is what I’m saying.”
He lowered the glass, having raised it for a first, exploratory sip. Finding it very much to his liking - and her accurate commentary all the more so - he pulled it closer, drumming his fingers against the countertop. “I wonder what black PVC says about you, then,” he mused, arching a brow. His vulpine smile quirked sharper for an instant, then faded altogether, his amusement retreating to the depths of his eyes. “I have a few ideas, but I hate to assume.”
“Oh, God, don’t keep me in suspense,” she arched a brow as she muddled the fruits and mint, then quickly dropped in the ice and rum, then a spray of seltzer. “I’d love to know what a nice Southern pirate boy like you thinks this catsuit says about me.” She smirked as she put the shaker over the top of the glass, shook it up, then passed the summery beverage to the waiting customer, grabbing her tips and tossing them into the kitty and making eye contact with the next patron as she did.
“Two Heinekens, sweetheart,” the apparent Boardwalk Empire extra called out. Fee nodded and smiled, then reached for the beers. She cast a look to the Dread Pirate, giving him a little smirk.
“Well?”
His tongue flicked out to the corner of his mouth, swiping away the smirk threatening to show itself again. From the look in his eyes it was clear a number of potential comments crossed his mind, each discarded in its turn. Though he gave away no hints as to the nature of these unspoken remarks, it was simple enough to discern. Fee arched her brow at him again as she popped the tops off the beers.
“I think,” he said, his slow drawl dragging out the words, “it means that if you weren’t workin’ right now, in two drinks or less you’d agree to things it’d take me maybe three, four dates to talk these other...” He raised his free hand, a little wave over one shoulder indicating the entirety of the bar. “...Ladies, let’s say, into doin’.” He grinned, lifting his glass to his lips. “And that you’d probably be better at it, too.”
Fee laughed at that, too, shaking her head as she handed off the Heinies and waited for the customers to walk away before she grabbed the tips. As she nodded at a sexy vampire boy who’d asked her for a round of six tequila shots set up, she spun to grab the tequila off the shelf then turned back to the pirate as she lined up the glasses.
“Do you always hit on girls by insinuating they’re sluts?” she chuckled. “What the hell kind of Southern charm is this?”
Her body continuing to move to the beat as it had been most of the evening, she poured the shots in time to the bass, then dropped six wedges of lime in a glass before passing them and a salt shaker to the fey vampire, who blew her a kiss. Her would-be guest, on the other hand, pointedly ignored him.