The idea made my skin itch.

"I'll be right back," I said with a smile to the group I had recently been chatting with. "I'm going to grab some lemonade." A few nodded to me, letting me know they had heard me and I beat a hasty retreat to the refreshment table. The prickling between my shoulder blades hadn't left all evening, as if I could feel people looking at me.

"I do not miss the ever present politics," I muttered, filling a paper cup with pink lemonade.

"I'd avoid the punch," a man casually mentioned from the other side of the table, his voice like dupioni silk to my ears. Lustrous but with texture. I looked up and immediately forgot what I was doing. He was a little taller than me, with broad shoulders and an easy confidence of a person who knows exactly who they are. His dark hair was neatly trimmed but not fussy, like a man who knew how to carry responsibility without advertising it.

But it was his hazel eyes that really caught me—bright and arresting, the kind of gaze that seemed to weigh and measure everything without judgment. I couldn't look away.

Allison... Allison close your mouth and stop drooling, I chided myself mentally, even though inside my mind was going cartoonishly nuts.

"Oh?" I asked cheekily, "Did you spike it?"

A surprised look crossed his face and he chuckled. "No, not me. But I think some of the young bucks did in hopes of turning the after party into a bacchanal."

My lips quirked up in a wry smile. "Ok, now I'm curious what they used. Last time someone tried they used Everclear and that shit burned."

"Coming and going, am I right?" he laughed, holding his hand out to me across the table. "I'm Gordon."

"Allison," I replied, taking his hand and matching the strength he used. "So...you want to try this jungle juice with me? Or are you gonna sit and watch me make horrible faces?"

"I promise I won't laugh too hard at you," he said, with a chuckle as he handed me a new paper cup.

"Aww you mean I'm not gonna see your drink come out of your nose? Dang it." I used the ladle to scoop the innocuous looking drink into my cup and I took a cautious sniff. "Well it's not tequila or rum, I can tell you that much."

Taking a careful sip, I nearly gagged as soon as the liquid touched my tongue. "Oh gawd," I cried, spitting it back into my cup. "Everclear AND gin. Like if someone took a Christmas tree and lit it on fire in my mouth. My tongue is filing a worker's comp claim. UGH!"

Gordon made a face of sympathy while trying to mask his laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

I'd like to personally apologize because Gordon shows up and immediately ruins the collective blood pressure of everyone involved.

Allison forgets how cups work. I forgot how words work. My hubster is jealous of an imaginary guy.

10/10 would make terrible decisions again.

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