It was late. The water from Charleston Harbor sparkled under the moonlight, and the veranda hummed with the laughter of socialites and the clinking of glasses. The handsome bartender sat down in a rare moment of respite. He peered over at the jazz band, his chin resting on the heel of his hand. The breeze picked up and he watched the singer reach up and brush away a lock of hair from her face. "They sound great tonight" he thought. He lightly tapped his fingers against his cheek as he remembered the crush he had on his childhood piano teacher, and silently wished he had stuck with it. The song ended with the cool sizzle of brushes against a cymbal, just as a trio of tanned beauties slinked up to the bar. He stood up, smiled broadly and puffed his chest a little. "What can I get for you ladies?" He could see from the twinkle in their heavily made-up eyes that they were just getting started. "Surprise us!" the brunette exclaimed, her face flushed with high expectations.
And so he did.
He called it the Velvetini.
In honor of the band.
