Whoops, Ryann thought. They were only supposed to try it. Oh, well. Next time.

“Yuck,” Maddie said. “Too sweet.”

“It’s not great,” Ryann said. “Sorry, Erin.”

Erin laughed. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what I used to make for party kids at the bar. Consider that one the control in our experiment here. So, considering what you know of the guys’ tastes, what would the two of you suggest—more sour or bitter for the next one?”

“Both?” Maddie said, lips still peeled with disgust.

Erin nodded, turning around to the wide assortment of bottles and grabbing several things before starting to mix the next one.

“Yerg,” Maddie said to her. “I don’t know why Jai asked me to do this. I almost never drink cocktails or wine. I’m really a beer person.”

“I’m wondering that myself. I’m a red wine and scotch girl, myself.”

Maddie laughed. “Of course you are.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know, that’s what fancy boss ladies drink. I can picture you in your office, high above Madison Avenue, staring down at the cabs below, amber liquid in a rocks glass, wearing a seriously tight pencil skirt, the sky darkening, long after everyone else has gone home.”

She blushed. Her building’s address was technically Madison Avenue, but her office looked out onto Fifth. She’d done exactly what Maddie had described a thousand times, at least.

Maddie put her hand on her arm. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was a mean thing to say.”

She let out a weak laugh. “No—you’re right. You even got the skirt down.”

Maddie grimaced and leaned closer, dropping her voice. “Still, it’s not my place to judge your life. I’m sorry.”

She realized then that Erin was watching them, eyebrows up in her messy hairline. Maddie, seeing her expression, removed her hand from Ryann’s arm and scooted slightly away.

“Okay,” Erin said, drawing out the word. She poured the contents of the shaker into two small new taster glasses. “Uh, this next one is a little more sour and bitter, as per your request, Maddie.”

Ryann held up the drink, pleased with its appearance. It was a dark red, sparkling, with a cherry in the bottom. It smelled better, too, lightly citrus, and when she took in a slightly biggish mouthful, she didn’t immediately want to spit it out. She rolled it on her tongue before swallowing.

“This one is much better. I love the cherry—it’s not sweet like a maraschino.”

“They’re gin cherries,” Erin explained.

Maddie, reassured, drank hers, her eyebrows raising slightly as she swallowed.

“Not bad at all. In fact, I kind of like it. I like the bubbles a lot.”

“Okay!” Erin said, clapping. “Do we have a winner, or do you want to try something totally different?”