And not just any ring.
The ring.
The will-you-be-a-jealous-hag-for-the-rest-of-my-life? ring.
“She sold me this.” Jack pulled the ring box out of his pocket and practically shoved it in the girl’s face as he spoke through his teeth. “I bought this for you, Vanessa. Christ.”
The box was closed, but Hallie knew a stunning square-cut diamond engagement ring was nestled inside. He’d seemed like a funny, charming guy when she helped him shop for the perfect ring, but if he thought Vanessa was soul-mate material, he clearly only thought with his penis.
Or he really was a moron.
“Oh, my God,” Vanessa squealed, her face transforming into sunlight as she beamed at Jack and put her hands over her heart. “You’re proposing?”
He stared at her with his eyes squinted for a solid five seconds before saying, “I’m not now.”
Her smile slipped. “You’re not?”
“Fuck, no.”
Hallie snorted.
Which made Vanessa swing her narrowed, long-lashed—wow, those had to be extensions—eyes in Hallie’s direction. She hissed, “Is something funny?”
Hallie shook her head, but for some reason, she couldn’t make her lips straighten. She kept hearing the dude’s fuck, no and it was just so chef’s kiss.
Before she had a second to realize what was happening, Vanessa grabbed the full glass of chardonnay from where it was sitting on the bar, turned her wrist, and threw its contents in Hallie’s face.
“Gahh!” Cold wine splashed over her face and burned her eyes. Thankfully, as a bartender, she was surrounded by towels and happened to have one on her shoulder that very second. Hallie snatched it and wiped her face. “Hey. Van. What is your problem?”
“You are my prob—”
“I am so sorry,” Jack said, looking pathetically apologetic. He grabbed Hallie’s towel and started patting her dripping neck, which made Vanessa’s eyes grow huge.
“Oh, my God, she’s fine,” Vanessa said.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hallie said, giving him a weird look as she snatched back the towel. “She seems great, by the way.”
He leaned in closer, so all Hallie could see was his worried face and blue eyes. “You’re good?”
“Yeah.” Hallie blinked and felt like she needed to take a step back. He was too attractive for human eyes, especially when giving that sort of eye contact. She ran her tongue over her freshly chardonnayed lips. “Well, actually, no, if I’m being honest. See, I recommend this chardonnay all the time because it’s supposed to be oaky with a rich, buttery finish, but it’s actually dry as hell with a bitter, stale aftertaste.”
He pursed his lips.
“I’ve been perpetrating a lie this entire time.”
His eyes crinkled around the edges and his mouth twitched. He looked like he was about to smile, but Vanessa grabbed his arm, and his face changed to straight-up pissed. Hallie watched his throat move as he swallowed, and then he turned around and said, “We need to go.”
Her perfect eyebrows went up. “We’re leaving?”
“Something like that. Come on.”
He led his pretty monster away from the bar, and Hallie mopped up before getting back to making drinks. The entire dustup had happened over the course of a mere three minutes, but it’d felt like an eternity.
The other bartender, Julio, asked out of the side of his mouth as he poured vodka into five shot glasses, “What the hell was that?”
“Just a batshit jealous girlfriend.” She moved to the other end of the bar and took an order for two whiskey sours. “I don’t even know them.”
“Oh, my God, Hallie Piper, I thought that was you!”
Hallie looked up and did a double take. Seriously, universe? “Allison Scott?”
Ugh. Allison. They’d gone to high school together, and she was one of those girls who was technically super nice but always managed to word things in ways that made people feel like shit. Hallie hadn’t seen her since graduation eight years ago, and she definitely hadn’t missed her.
“Oh, my God, you are the most adorable bartender I’ve ever seen.” Allison beamed and gestured toward Hallie’s damp black tank top and black jeans. “Seriously you’re, like, a cutesy-cute drink-maker in a movie.”
Allison was giving total Alexis Rose vibes, and Hallie pasted a smile on her face. “Can I make you something?”
“My boyfriend is one of the groomsmen,” she said, apparently not in want of a beverage. “And when he ran over and said there was a catfight at the bar, I never in a million years would’ve guessed it’d be my super-anal, buttoned-up friend Hallie.”