Stacy's Dad Has Got It Going On by Giselle Renarde

nights, my liver could probably use a break!”
    Painfully aware that the waitress was
staring daggers at them for wasting her time, Savannah tried not to giggle.
“Well, you’re probably right about your liver.” She sent a smile across the
table. It was too flirtatious for the waitress not to see, but Savannah was
starting to care less and less. “But, seriously, get whatever you like. Don’t
keep yourself from drinking on my account.”
    Eric watched the waitress place their
menus one top of the other on the table, and then scoop them up against her
chest. He pursed his lips as if in deep contemplation, and then thumped a
decisive fist against the tabletop. “I’ll have a ginger ale, please.”
    Rolling her eyes in a not-so-subtle
manner, much enhanced by her not-so-subtle eye shadow, the waitress said, “Two
ginger ales and two salmon wraps. ‘Kay. No problem.”
    “I’m sorry,” Eric said once she’d
gone. “I didn’t realize you’re a teetotaler. I hope I haven’t offended you.”
    Savannah shook her head as
emphatically as she could without giving herself whiplash. “No, don’t be
silly.”
    “I don’t just mean tonight,” he went
on. “I mean coming home drunk last night, and drinking all Stacy’s rum the
night before…”
    “You actually didn’t seem all that
wasted last night,” she assured him. “And the night before…well, I guess I
didn’t see you until the morning-after hangover. Anyway, it’s not like I’m
sitting here judging people who drink. I’m at a pub, aren’t I?”
    Eric chuckled, offering an encouraging
nod.
    “People always seem to think there’s
some serious reason why I don’t drink. There really isn’t.” Savannah took a
sugar packet from the holder on the table, shook it against her palm, and then
pushed it back in. “I’ve had a drink or two in my life, but I never liked the
way drinking made me feel—all wobbly and…I don’t know…like I couldn’t think
straight. I didn’t like that feeling, and I figured, why do something just
because everybody else does? Or just because everybody else thinks it’s weird
not to? You know what I mean?”
    “I know exactly what you mean,” Eric
confirmed as the waitress plonked their non-alcoholic beverages down on the
table. She left before they could even say thank you. “Not big on service here,
are they?”
    Savannah shrugged. “You’re just used
to wining and dining among sophisticates. This is how we insignificant people
live.” With a teasing smile, she wiggled her eyebrows as she sipped her ginger
ale.
    “Wicked girl.” Reaching across the
table, Eric swatted her ear and laughed. “Respect your elders, young lady!”
    Narrowly avoiding her glass, Savannah
swatted him in turn. The moment her fingers touched his soft blond hair, she
was transported to the previous night, falling asleep while petting him like a
puppy. She didn’t need to look in a mirror to know the cocky smile had fallen
from her face. It was obvious from the way he was looking at her—like, if there
hadn’t been a table between them, he would have swept her into his arms and
kissed her until her clothes fell off.
    Savannah pulled back. She quickly
grabbed her ginger ale, brought the straw to her mouth, and sipped while Eric
looked out across Kingsley’s pub. In an instant, his eyes brightened. “Hey,
look! It’s Stacy!”
    Though Eric waved both hands above his
head to get his daughter’s attention, Savannah didn’t turn around. “Where is
she?”
    “She can’t see me from way over here.”
Eric pointed toward the stage. “Look, she’s helping the band get organized?
Isn’t this exciting? My daughter’s a roadie!”
    Only a father could be so proud of his
daughter for lending a hand to an unknown garage band in a dirty little pub.
Savannah still couldn’t bring herself to look. Stacy was probably up there
canoodling with Dread Head. The very idea made her dizzy.
    How could she sit across from the very
handsome Eric