I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery)

been by. They didn’t know who Harvey was and I couldn’t remember his real name, so I had to wobble back and wait. And while I waited, I experimented with cocktails.
    Sex on the Beach wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. And I think a Slippery Nipple was aimed at the men.
    I mean… Oh, you know what I mean.
    Truth is, I was so appalled at my body’s blatant reaction to Luke that I needed to get drunk. Really drunk. I wanted to stop wanting him, because it could only be bad for me to get involved with a rat like him.
    My body, however, didn’t understand this, and it took a heroic amount of alcohol to quiet the steady thrum of “Luke smell good. Luke feel nice. Me want bite Luke’s butt”.
    By the time my hormones shut up, I was seeing three of everything.
    Finally, just as I was getting fed up of drawing patterns in the pink cocktail spillage on my table, someone tapped me on the shoulder and I looked up to see Harvey watching me with eyebrows raised.
    “Howdy.”
    Boy, they sure made ’em cute in Ohio.
    “Harvey!” I leapt to my feet, nearly breaking my ankle in the process. “Fancy seeing you here!”
    “They told me at reception you’d been asking for me.”
    Shit. “I, er, one of the girls said she saw you here. I thought I’d pop by and say hello. Hello.”
    “Hello.” He looked at the collection of cocktail umbrellas I’d amassed. “How long have you been here?”
    “Oh. A while.”
    “Checking out the cocktail list?”
    “Yeah. Making sure it’s up to scratch. Sometimes people don’t make them properly.” What was I talking about?
    “Is that so?” Harvey took a seat beside me on the banquette and signalled the waiter. “Budweiser. Sophie? Another cocktail?”
    The waiter gave the umbrellas a long, slow look, then did the same to me.
    “Mineral water,” I summoned an angelic smile. “Still.”
    “So how’d you know so much about cocktails?” Harvey asked, smiling, as the waiter minced away.
    “Oh, I, er, I used to be a cocktail waitress.” Who was this woman inside my head and what was she saying?
    “Really? Before you got the call to the skies?”
    The what? Oh, right, the stewardess thing. “Yeah. It’s a calling.”
    He nodded. “What happened to your face?”
    My hand flew up to the bruise, slightly more enthusiastically than I’d told it to, and prodded my temple painfully. “Oh, I, er, I, er…you know those overhead lockers? Don’t walk into them.”
    “I’ll bear that in mind. It looks painful.”
    “Yeah. I’m on painkillers.”
    “Should you be drinking on top of painkillers?”
    The waiter arrived and I pointed to my water. “I’m not drinking,” I said.
    Harvey blinked at the cocktail umbrellas. “Er, no,” he said. “Of course not. So, how’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since that night in London.”
    Oh, Jesus. That night.
    “I’ve been okay.” He was going to ask me about Luke.
    “Did you sort things out with that guy? Uh, Lewis, Leo…”
    “Luke. Yes. Sorted.”
    “So are you…?”
    I stared. “Am I what?”
    “Are you…involved with him? I was sort of unclear on that on Friday.”
    I took a long, contemplative sip of my water. I was still sort of unclear on that, too. Still, Luke wasn’t here. Nothing had really happened since Friday.
    “No,” I said, looking straight at Harvey. “Not involved.”
    He nodded, smiled, and took a swig of his beer. “’Cos it looked a little like you were.”
    “What? No. That was just Luke messing around.”
    “He seemed jealous.”
    “Well.” I looked him over. Nice teeth, kind eyes, good body under his suit. “Of course he is.”
    Like Kate Moss would be jealous of me.
    “So you’re single?”
    I nodded.
    “Can I…” He dropped his eyes and drummed his fingers on the table. Then he looked up at me. “Can I get your phone number?”
    Deliriously happy, I reeled off my Siemens number. “How long are you staying here?”
    He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I have to fly off up to Edinburgh tomorrow, but I’m back in the evening. Maybe we could have dinner?”
    I nodded so enthusiastically my head nearly fell off. I was starting to feel dizzy.
    “Great. I can’t promise anything like the trattoria in Rome. Do you know any nice places around here?”
    My head whirled. If I wanted to eat out, I went to Pizza Hut. “Erm, no,” I said carefully, “I don’t know the area well.”
    “Okay, well, I’ll ask at Reception.” He peered at me. “Are you okay?”
    The dizziness