Zenith Margarita Novels & Stories

There is soft jazz playing in the background, and sunlight spills through the windows like liquid gold. We sit in a corner booth, away from the few other patrons. Zenith orders an iced caramel latte with whipped cream. I raise an eyebrow at the mountain of cream, and she sticks her tongue out at me. “You’re judging me.” “Quietly.” She sips with an exaggerated moan. “You should try it before you criticize.”

"I don't scheme. I win. You called this meeting to concede the South Bay deal. So, concede, and let me get back to my son." A microscopic muscle ticked in Ethan’s jaw at the mention of the boy. My son, he thought, a violent wave of possessive pride crashing through him. Our son. But he kept his face perfectly impassive. He gestured to the bartender, who immediately brought over two crystal tumblers. He placed one in front of Zara. Zara looked down at the amber liquid. There was a single, large, spherical ice cube in the center, garnished with a twist of charred orange peel and a single dash of black cherry bitters.

A live pasta station stood near the wine bar, where chefs in white toques crafted custom dishes for guests on demand. For drinks, a long mirrored bar was stocked with vintage wines, top-shelf whiskey, and signature cocktails named after the couple—The Sasha (a blend of elderflower liqueur, gin, and white cranberry) and The Mason (bourbon, smoked cherry, and citrus bitters). Silver trays moved through the crowd offering champagne from rare vintages, each flute garnished with a twist of candied orange peel or a floating edible flower. Julia grabbed another drink from one of the waiter’s carrying the silver tray. It was her fourth drink this evening. I arched a questioning brow at her, “are you

The first place I headed was to the bartender, I knew it was going to take a lot to get through this night, and I needed all the help I could get. “Would you like a Lauren Lemon Drop or a Todd Tequila Shot?” “Are the only two things on the menu?” I asked. I shouldn’t be surprised that they had signature drinks named after themselves. The bartender gave me a sympathetic smile, “Or we have the Marry Me Margarita.” This was going to be a very long night. “A margarita then…” I walked away with my margarita in hand and joined a small group of people surrounding the life-size ice sculpture of Lauren and Todd.

Chiba Nobita signaled for Ramon Lee to pour everyone a huge drink. The Whiskey from the Island Nations was bittersweet and extremely strong, enough to make anyone drop after a few cups. Xynthia Zimmer immediately held her nose shut when Ramon brought the Whiskey over. “I’m sorry, I can’t drink. I’ll just have juice.” Naturally, Xynthia did not want to get in trouble again after what had happened before. Harvey York would probably stop accompanying her if the same happened again.

When I free myself with the excuse of the bathroom, the bar spins slightly—the alcohol finally hitting—but my steps are firm toward the stairs. Antoine and the redhead had disappeared — and I already knew exactly where. But when I descend to the club's lower level, there he is: Antoine, sleeves rolled up, personally preparing a drink for Elizabeth. The redhead? Evaporated. As if she'd never existed. My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. He doesn't even try to hide it. I grab the same bartender who served us privately by the collar. "Make a special cocktail. I want something memorable. Vodka, raspberry, and a touch of lemon." My eyes stay on her and my best friend, whom I feel like skinning alive

She wondered if it was just her and mentally noted to ask Esmeralda when she saw her again. Glancing around at the crowd as she weaved her way through them, she wondered if professor Lucas was still around. If any of the other girls had attended to him because she was sure they would have approached him. She silently berated herself for not asking him earlier if he wanted anything, her nerves had definitely done her bad. She approached the bar and saw big Ben patiently explaining one of the drinks on the menu to a confused looking customer. "Ya see, a martini is basically just gin or vodka and vermouth," he said, pointing to the menu. "But, a cosmo is made with cranberry juice, triple sec, a

“Usually, yes. But with her, I don’t know. She isn’t like the others.” “No, she isn’t. But I still know a good idea when I hear it. Let’s head for my office and we can go through it and talk about it.” As Zane and Jax walked towards the stairs, Zane noticed the sign holding the drink list. At the top there was a new drink, ‘Angel’s Bliss’. At each end of the name someone had drawn angel wings and there was a halo around the capital A. Zane smiled, it was perfect. “What are you grinning about?” Jax asked.

She hurries to keep pace with me. Maybe there are other clubs, but this one has a good vibe and a good group of people that I’ve already started to sort through. Who knows what the clientele of the other places might look like? This is as good a spot as any. Cynthia flags the bartender down. “Two margarita on the rocks, and two extra shots. All top shelf tequila please.” The bartender grabs an expensive looking bottle off the shelf and shows Cynthia. She gives him a thumbs up. “Do I want to know what this bar tab is going to be?” I ask.

He shook his head and answered her previous question. "It's a margarita, a drink made by mixing tequila, triple sec, and lime juice in equal parts. It's also garnished with a little salt on the rim to enhance the flavor. And for alcoholic drinks, you should sip them slowly, not gulp them down like you just did." Kimberly nodded in understanding. "In that case, give me a different drink. This one is too salty. It might make my hair fall out if I consume too much salt like this."