Mikasa Double Old Fashioned Glasses Novels & Stories

It was whiskey. “Yes, please, help yourself,” Myles deadpanned as I set the glass back on the table. “Don’t mind if I do,” I smirked. He pulled a flask out of his pocket and handed it to me, unscrewing the lid before he did. “If you had a flask, why’d you get the glass?” I asked him as I took it. “It felt more classy to have the glass, but now I see it was a silly idea,” he conceded, as I took a sip.

That ex-girlfriend, Miss Banks or Miss Museum, whatever her name was, should really consider changing voices with him. “ We'll have two glasses of beer and one Coca-Cola”, Hazel said. “ Right on track sir”, the bartender said and went to go pour in the beer in those huge glasses that had huge handles. “ What's the coca-cola for?” I asked, curious as to why he ordered it. “ You'll soon find out”, he said, a knowing smile plastered on his face. “ Here you go. Two glasses of beer and one Coca-Cola”, the bartender said.

It smacks him with a poof. “I’m pink,” I declare, pointing at my helmet like it’s the damn Constitution. “No, I’m fucking pink,” he argues, clutching the suit like it’s a lifeline. “Pink matches my helmet, you psycho.” “Drink for it?” he counters, pulling a flask from his cut like a magician. I shrug. Why not? He pours two shots into actual glasses, where the hell did he get glasses? and hands me one like it’s a duel at dawn.

“I like that phrase coming from your mouth.” “Hm,” I mumble with mock attitude. “Enjoy it while it lasts. After Italy, it’s over.” “We’ll see, little shadow,” he replies with a slow smirk. “Will you watch the sun? I don’t want you to burn.” I nod, just as two cocktails arrive. One is pink and glittery, served in a delicate martini glass. The other is a light brown concoction with curls of orange peel, served in a wine glass. “Uh…” I murmur with a touch of suspicion. “Thank you.”

She said that she hoped it would be enough of an excuse for Regor. "Sure. Maybe. Thanks for your number, I'll just call you tomorrow where we'll meet at the mall." Mariposa smiled beautifully and Regor smiled back as well. They stared at each other for a moment, eye to eye. Regor wouldn't know it was her because she wore a contact lens to change the color of her eyes. "Wow, your eyes are beautiful Mariposa, it's glittering!" He praised her eyes. Mariposa just smiled. Her cell phone suddenly rang so she left Regor's side first and answered the call.

"The guy I was referring to is not, Dominick. He was... handsome. Wealthy. Powerful. But with a good and kind heart. He even gave me the other night a set of this. Wait. I'll go get it," Lola stood up and rushed going to his antique-looking hanging cabinet. She opened it. And there my eyes glistened from the reflection of what she grabbed. "Tada!" She introduced. "Versace Home Luxury Glasses and Crystal set," and there, my eyes widened. I saw a different kind of glasses for wine purposes. Red wine glass, white wine glass. There's also a water goblet, champagne flute, a decanter, and a whisky glass. "Wow," the word I only said. Lola smiled as she bobbed her head. "Not to sound odd but... Dadd

"Miss Lucy Clay, it's a pleasure to see you again" Laughing at his formality, I sat down on my seat "drop the formality Lucas, it doesn't suit you" standing up again, I walked towards the mini bar in my office. Picking up a bottle of The Macallan Select Reserve 1946, I picked up two liquor glass then walked back to my desk and dropped it before sitting down. Lucas whistled as he examined the label "you sure do know how to spend your money on liquor" opening the bottle, he poured into each glass

“If you need backup, call Marcos over there. He owes me a favor and he’s a pro at carrying glasses.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Noted. I’ll leave him alone for now.” I waved at her and kept going, finally reaching the drink table. The waiter in a black vest was stacking a tower of glasses, and I squeezed in, grabbing two champagne flutes carefully so I wouldn’t knock anything over. “Two, huh? Thirsty or sharing?” a deep voice asked, and I turned to see Marcos—the blue-suit guy Lena mentioned—leaning against the table, a playful grin on his face and a whiskey in hand.

Grandmaster stated, ignoring the other man's comment on his son…Carlson. "Oh, Please, don't be too formal. I've got some fine wine here, you should try it out. Freya?" Freya obediently walked over to the booze shelf, she grabbed two glasses and a 1945 Jéroboam de château mouton Rothschild. She placed a glass in front of each man and filled it up. Grandmaster picked up his glass and took a sip, his eyes never drifting from the masked man sitting across him. "I would have loved to join you, but unfortunately, I have my face sealed." He said through auto tunes.

It still sounded spoiled and masculine, not like a woman's noisy screeching in the ear. "Usually you order this suite with juice or milk, what is this?" He checked the refrigerator in the corner of the pantry and found a row of wine bottles along with beer cans. "Have you abandoned a healthy lifestyle?" Yes, around five years ago I might have still been paranoid about routines that must be directly proportional to health. Getting sick in your thirties would only ruin your financial plans. "Every now and then," I reasoned. I was just in case my fiancée was going to spend the night here, well that was a thought before she saw me carrying him out of the party.