“Your waiter will be right with you,” she said with a polite smile. I sat down and craned my neck to look around at the other people on the deck. It didn’t seem like the kind of place where you could reserve the best seat for sunset viewing, but James had obviously wangled it somehow.

A waiter appeared with menus and he rattled off a list of specials so fast I didn’t hear any of them, then disappeared. “I haven’t actually been here before, but it was recommended to me,” said James. He didn’t say who had done the recommending. “Apparently, they specialise in cocktails.” He flipped through the menu until he found the right page, and I did the same with my own. They had an interesting selection—one was even made with jam—but I’m more of a traditionalist when it comes to cocktails.

“Find something you’d like?” James asked, looking up from his menu. I nodded and as if by magic, our waiter appeared. I ordered the Negroni and James a vodka martini. The waiter disappeared.

“You know, that’s cheating,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“They have this elaborate cocktail menu and you go for something that’s not even on it. A martini.”

He laughed. “Is it too boring for you?”

“No. I mean, I ordered a Negroni. I prefer something simple to a drink that arrives with an entourage.” He cocked his head at me, his expression telling me to elaborate. “You know, those cocktails that show up and you have to hack your way through an orchard just to get to the drink. They should come with a machete.” Wow, I can be quite hilarious sometimes. I can also bullshit with the best of them—I had loved those cocktails in Hawaii. I wasn’t sure why I’d said that other than to be funny. Still, it worked.

“You’re quite amusing, you know,” he said, chuckling. I decided to go with it.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hil-ar-i-ous.” I said, drawing out each syllable for dramatic effect.

He nodded solemnly, “Right, I stand corrected. You are hil-ar-i-ous.” I nestled back against the couch and he put an arm around my shoulders. Here I am, sitting with my handsome boyfriend in an incredible place, and he thinks I am beautiful and hilarious. Smugness is not really an attractive trait, but wasn’t I entitled to a little?

When our drinks arrived, I realised that we’d sat quietly for several minutes enjoying the view and I hadn’t felt the need to fill the silence with frivolous chitchat—maybe it was more of that “growing as a person” stuff.

“To a beautiful sunset,” he said. I clinked my glass against his and took a sip. Oh, my god, that’s strong. Somehow, I’d forgotten that a Negroni is essentially half a glass of full-strength liquor. I’d have to pace myself.

I took another micro sip and, just as I started to feel the warmth flow through my body, a voice like honey spoke in a way that had my instincts on edge well before my brain caught up. “James?”