She turned to Marcus. “I’m so glad we had a chance to talk tonight.”
“As am I.” His eyes turned heavy-lidded, not from intoxication but desire.
Then she hiccupped. So embarrassing. The men chuckled as she slapped a hand over her mouth, but her chest-rattling gasps continued.
“A few slaps on the back will help.” Marcus cuffed her on the back like she’d choked on something. Not helpful.
The middle brother offered, “Have another shot. That’ll cure you.”
When her watery eyes bugged out, Mr. Markov let out a chortle. “No, no. The girl won’t last through another vodka. Lemon sprinkled with sugar will do it.”
The each tossed out options, the brothers arguing over which home remedy would cure her. From bitters in club soda to drinking a glass of water upside down. How was it even possible, she mused, to consume a beverage upside down? The logistics made her head spin.
Finally Isaac reached across the table, depositing his glass of water in front of her. “Hold your nose, exhale completely, take a deep breath in, and drink the water until your lungs are about to explode.”
Nodding, she didn’t care if she looked ridiculous. She pinched her nose, exhaled, inhaled, and downed the glass of water. She kept drinking even though her pulse pounded in her ears and her lungs screamed for air. She emptied the glass, dropped it to the table, unplugged her nose and gasped for breath. She breathed heavily for a few seconds, then her pulse settled and her hiccups were gone. “Hey, it worked!”
The Markovs marveled and then proceeded to discuss why such a simple method offered immediate results. Was it distraction? Concentration on a procedure instead of hiccups? Something to do with the carbon monoxide ratio to oxygen in her lungs?
She didn’t care as long as hiccups were gone. Thank you, she mouthed to Isaac, who sent her a wink. She turned to Marcus. “Please excuse me while I use the ladies room.”
At first, Marcus gave her a blank expression but soon comprehended. How should she know what they called the ladies room in Russian?
Once again, or for the hundredth time, she was supremely grateful for Isaac’s presence here with her. Without him she would’ve lost her way, so many times on so many levels.
As the director of sales, the expectations and overseeing of the entire team rested on his shoulders. She didn’t have half of his work responsibilities, easily expendable for a week off in Russia to pitch the company line to a foreign market. Yet, on this trip, he’d proven invaluable not only to her, but to Soren Security as a whole. She really wanted to tell her boss, Cade, about Isaac’s impressive skill set. Find a way to express how invaluable Isaac had been on this journey.
But one thing at a time. Her thoughts had become a fast-paced incoherent jumble since that last drink.
When Marcus let her out of the booth, she swayed in an attempt to gain her bearings. Getting drunk sitting down was one thing. Getting to the bathroom drunk was a whole new issue. She told them about her dilemma then stumbled a little, grabbing the corner of the booth for stability.
That induced uproarious laughter among the Markovs. Did Russians never get drunk? For half a second, annoyance infused her cheeks with prickles of resentment. Then she decided she didn’t care. She threw them a grin over her shoulder. “Next time, gentlemen, not so much vodka.”
Mr. Markov tossed his head back and howled with laughter. Even on a good day, with all her faculties, she didn’t consider herself particularly funny. But whatever, if she made them laugh—and they didn’t hold her unintended intoxication against her—then it was fine by her.
Head swimming, she eventually navigated to the ladies room while the floor continued to shift inconveniently beneath her high heels. She managed to use the facilities then splashed cold water on her cheeks. After grabbing a towel and blotting her face, she rummaged through her purse to reapply her lip gloss. She found a tissue to blot her lips and emerged to find Isaac leaning against the wall.
She waved at him. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, sweetheart. How are you?”
“Oh, great.” She took a step and her ankle gave out in her high heel, sending her into his chest. “Geez, sorry about that. I’m a little tipsy.”
“I noticed.” A low laugh came from his chest. “If it’s any consolation, they think you’re adorable.”
“So glad I can amuse for everyone,” she snorted, resting her palm against his chest.
The smile faded from his handsome face. “Marcus wants to meet you for a lunch date tomorrow. You should say yes.”
“Wh-hat? He does? Why?”
“Because he’s into you,” Isaac said dryly.