Alpha Thomas
Mike grabs my arm and raises an eyebrow at me.
"What's up?"
"You smell like tequila," he remarks.
I roll my eyes at him. "We had a few shots in the back. I'm twenty-two now, Mike. I can handle it. It's the whole point of tonight. Actually, I might even get ridiculously drunk and stumble into the limo when you come to pick us up. Sound good?"
"I'm just not used to it, that's all. As promised, I won't bother you. I have some errands to run for Mr. Smith. Call me when you're ready to be picked up. And remember your code—"