I'd just put in my order when some guy in a flashy suit and overinflated ego offered to pay for my drink. I thanked him, refusing.
He wouldn't take "no" for an answer. His buddies chimed in, intent on convincing me.
Rohan raised an eyebrow. He'd step in and help if I required it, but ignoring pushy men was a skill set most women sadly had to acquire at a young age. I shook my head, took my drink, and steered Snowflake away from the group, their slanderous comments growing meaner and louder as I left.
They weren't worth any more energy.
I sank onto a sofa. "What a bunch of twats." I sipped my icy G&T, fanning myself with one hand. It must have been ninety degrees in here.
Rohan took off his fedora, using it to fan me.
"What would you call a bunch of twats? A pride?" I asked.
He plopped the fedora on my head, a grin catching one corner of his mouth. "A murder?"
"A crash," I countered.