Free Champagne Kisses by Amanda Brunker

Maddie, weren’t you?’ sniggered Anna in a sarcastic tone that said, don’t get stroppy with me.
    Just as I was about to butt in and cool the frayed tempers, I noticed a very sexy guy walk towards the bar. He’d been sitting in front of us since we’d come in, but with his back turned the whole time.
    Although I didn’t recognize him, he had a certain X-factor aura about him. He was gorgeous, a total hottie in a kind of unshaven John Cusack sort of way. Actually, he was better looking than John Cusack, he was a rugged Tom Ford, wearing old jeans, a frayed style T-shirt and an old grey hoodie top. And now he was standing right beside me.
    As the girls continued to make bitchy remarks to each other, I used the classic, ‘Oh, sorry am I in your way?’ line as I pulled at my stool a little.
    ‘Gosh, no,’ said my perfect stranger, waving the remark away. ‘No, you’re fine,’ he smiled. He had a mild New York accent.
    ‘Wow, you’re a long way from home,’ I blurted, before taking the time to plan my next move.
    ‘For sure,’ he cooed, smirking down at me as he rubbed his hand over his designer stubble. ‘I like London, but I much prefer Ireland.’
    ‘You’re very perceptive,’ I flirted back, thrilled by his ability to recognize an Irish accent. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you’re a quarter Irish.’
    ‘Actually I am.’ He laughed, barely missing a beat.
    ‘Oh, for shurrrr!’ I mocked, as I kicked Maddie in the leg so she’d see my new pal.
    ‘You may be a non-believer but I’m actually half Irish. My mother was from Cavan,’ the handsome stranger insisted.
    With that a boisterous Maddie swung around on her stool and announced, ‘Well, hello tasty. Who are you?’
    ‘Oh, em, hello yourself, I’m Michael,’ gushed my handsome stranger. ‘Can I buy you girls a drink?’
    ‘Well, come take a big bite outta me!’ shrieked Maddie, as I hung my head in my hands with shame. What can of worms had I opened here?
    Choosing to ignore my embarrassment, she raved on, ‘Oh,
yes
, Michael, we’d love a drink, wouldn’t we, Eva? And I’m Maddie, and Michael, this here is Anna. And for the record we’re all single.’
    Truly mortified, I just shrugged at Michael and expressed my feelings towards Maddie with my eyes.
    ‘Don’t mind her,’ said Maddie, pulling at his sleeve. ‘She’s just gone quiet ’cause you’re her type. You’ve got that arty thing going on. You’re definitely her type.’
    ‘Thanks for that, Maddie,’ I was trying desperately hard to seem pissed off. Of course, I wasn’t. I was thrilled. Maddie had done all the groundwork for me. All I had to do now was try and look sweet; well, sweet in a sexy way, and hope that he would fall for it.
    Thirty minutes later, I had found out Michael was a fashion photographer who was currently trying to break into making videos and commercials. He had worked with all the big names from Gisele to Naomi Campbell, and apparently she was ‘not as temperamental as the media makes her out to be’. Although he had dated many models, and had a small crush on an Irish model, Catriona Balfe, who also lived and worked on the ‘Island’ (Manhattan, of course), he was currently single – and ‘actively looking for a good woman to love’.
    As he stared deep into my eyes, as if trying to read my mind or capture my soul, all I could do was gaze back at him.
    Was this guy for real? I wasn’t a supermodel, so why the hell was he talking to me? Maybe all the drink I had had made me more confident, and so more appealing. Yanks loved confidence, especially New Yorkers, but still … I just couldn’t understand. Judging by his body language he was true. Leaning into me, his smell of Davidoff Clearwater was filling up my senses, but it was his whole persona that was starting to overpower me.
    By now Maddie and Anna had muscled over to his mates’ table and seemed happy enough. Occasionally I’d hear a flirtatious yelp or scream from Maddie, so I