John broke the eye contact in time to turn and see Mary swing toward them on those long legs of hers, her hand still raised in a wave and the smile on her face bright enough to make a planet orbit.

He was dimly aware of almost every head in the bar turning to watch her walk past.

He was also dimly aware of every single one of those heads watching her toss her arms around him and press a kiss to his cheek. “John! Richie didn’t say you’d be here too. I’m so happy to see you!”

She pulled back and gave Richie the same treatment, a hug and a kiss, and John tried very hard not to look like she’d just smashed a water balloon over his head, even though that was kind of how he felt. He let his eyes ricochet over the other faces in the bar, and he watched as his colleagues and peers all bounced their eyes between John, Richie and the new girl.

This was an after-work bar, and Mary, in her white sundress and blue heels, her sunny hair down her back, stuck out glaringly among all the sweaty rumpled suits and pantsuits.

“How have you been? Oh, thanks!” Mary gracefully accepted the barstool he’d just vacated for her. She pointed at his beer. “Yours?”

“Yeah. I’ve been pretty good. Mostly just busy with wor—”

He cut off as he watched Mary take his ice-cold beer and bring it to her lips. He felt heat rise up along his back, making his shirt stick to his skin. That was the cheapest beer on the menu, which meant that Mary had essentially just swallowed a gulp of watered-down frat beer. Why couldn’t he have sprung for some expensive foreign beer for once in his life?

“Mmm,” she said, pressing her eyes closed for a second. “That’s so perfect for a hot day. Makes me want to go to a ball game.” She waved her hand at Marissa, who’d been pretending to wipe the counter four feet away while eavesdropping on the newcomer. “Hi! Can I have one of these?”

“Sure thing.”

“On second thought,” Mary said as she cocked her head to one side. “Do you have any lemonade back there?”

“Yeah.”

“Could I have three-quarters of this draft and one-quarter lemonade?”

“Oh.” Marissa blinked. “Sure. Totally.”

Mary handed John’s beer to him.

“Beer mixed with lemonade?” he mused.

She nodded. “It’s the perfect summer drink. You’ll see.”

Marissa came back with Mary’s drink, and John caught Marissa’s eye. He pointed at himself and Marissa’s eyes widened. John never, ever paid for other people’s drinks. Except on Richie’s birthday. John held back his sigh, knowing that he was in for a full interrogation from Marissa the next time he was in here.

“Here. Try.” Mary held out the neon-yellow concoction.