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God, she was just so pretty! It honestly hurt Marisol to look directly at her for longer than a few seconds at a time. But she’d manage if it meant she actually talked to her. “That…I can do. Hey, Ricky!” The other bartender turned and looked at Marisol. A knowing smile split his face and he gave a wave along the lines of ‘go on then.’ “No! I mean, thank you. But can we get some-…Wait, what do you want?” She turned back to the stranger.
Watching the exchange between the woman and the bartender was a little confusing and she wondered if the woman worked there, if the other was telling her she could leave and Serena home with her. It was a thought that caused her cheeks to turn pink and she momentarily forgot her own drink order, so it took her a moment before she quickly replied. "A white Russian. Please." Or maybe she have been bolder and just told the woman she'd have whatever she was having, but Serena wasn't overly familiar with alcohol.











