Chapter 43: This Drink Is Called a Margarita

During their youth, the female students in Cheyenne's class devoured romance novels, while the male students secretly watched adult films. Cheyenne, however, preferred the delicate lines and artistry of manga. Kate was her closest confidante. Somehow, Kate found a vintage boys'-love (BL) manga. The art style was beautiful, and the plot engaging. When the comic fell open, it landed on a page depicting two boys intimately intertwined, shyly exploring each other's secrets. The teachers and students on the playground were initially shocked, then erupted into laughter. Cheyenne's punishment was an extra lap of frog jumps. Her legs ached terribly afterward. That day, Cheyenne vowed to get into the high school's advanced program, find the boy who'd caused the incident, and give him a lesson. However, upon entering high school, she learned Omari had received a scholarship to a prestigious foreign university. Her revenge was thwarted.

Cheyenne’s thoughts drifted back to Omari as he spoke. “What are you thinking about, Cheyenne?” he asked. She snapped out of her reverie and looked around. They were in a bar owned by one of Omari's friends, closed for the day, so they had the place to themselves.

“Omari, do you have some free time? I need help investigating Adrian and Master Iker,” she said softly, but clearly.

“Master Iker of the Todd family?” Omari asked. He didn't know Iker personally, but he knew of his ruthlessness. He suddenly remembered the old man they’d seen at the auction and their conversation. He suspected Cheyenne's intentions.

“You rejected that old man's request that day. What happened afterward? Did he contact you again?” Omari asked cautiously.

Cheyenne nodded. “Adrian went to my grandfather's place in Shedale after I refused him. Then my grandfather agreed to treat Master Iker's illness.”

Omari pondered this, whispering, “Are you worried about possible fraud?”

“It’s possible. After my grandfather announced his retirement as family head, he stopped seeing patients, but made an exception this time.” She knew it wasn't because of the half-medical secrets book. It must be the Todd family. Grandfather is interested in the Todd family! But the Edwards family is in Shedale, while the Todds made their fortune in Metshire before returning to Onistead. They have no known connection. Grandfather couldn't possibly know Kai Todd.

“I understand. I’ll investigate thoroughly,” Omari said, going behind the bar and retrieving two highball glasses. “Would you like some?”

“No thanks, it’s daytime, and I have to drive,” she replied, smiling.

“Low-alcohol cocktails. I just learned how to make them. Try it, Cheyenne.” His slender hand, with prominent knuckles, removed his green gemstone cufflink and casually tossed it on the table. The emerald’s faint green light shone brilliantly under the lamp, reflecting on the black marble— understated luxury. The exquisite cufflink, encircled by crystals, was worth at least $400,000–$500,000. He tossed it around casually; he clearly wasn’t thrifty.

Cheyenne pocketed the cufflink. Behind the bar, Omari began mixing cocktails. The polished stainless steel cup moved in his large, fair hand with the agility of a small ball. The ice clinked as he shook it. His every movement was elegant, accentuating his handsome, comic-book-like face and warm smile. Cheyenne secretly snapped a photo. The cup seemed to float, leaving a trail of water droplets. As he lifted his head, his long, attractive neck and Adam’s apple were revealed. His jawline was smooth and perfect. Even a partial view was breathtaking. The cup landed steadily; his other hand quickly grasped a glass and filled it with cocktail.

The blue liquid resembled deep sea, the white ice cubes misted with vapor, garnished with a lemon slice. Cool and mysterious.

“Try it,” Omari said.

Impressed by his bartending skills, Cheyenne clapped. “Not bad. If you ever tire of lawyering, you could be a bartender,” she joked.

Omari chuckled.

Cheyenne sipped the cocktail, savoring it for fifteen seconds before speaking. “45 milliliters of tequila, 25 milliliters of Cointreau, 15 milliliters of lemon juice…” she recited precisely.

Omari’s eyes widened. “Your palate is incredible! You didn’t miss a single ingredient!”

Cheyenne shrugged; she enjoyed drinking and experimenting with cocktails.

“This is a Margarita, symbolizing the world’s most tragic love story,” Omari said wistfully, explaining he’d first tried it because of the name.

“If you like drinking so much, I’ll give you two bottles from my collection next time,” he offered.

“Deal.” Omari wasn’t focused on the wine; he wanted to be with Cheyenne.

After their conversation, Cheyenne finished her drink and left. Watching her go, Omari picked up the remaining cocktail. “Cheyenne, you haven’t told me how it tastes yet.”

A few days later, Cheyenne received a call from her grandfather. Her granduncle had invited them both to a Todd family banquet to meet Kai Todd and learn more about Iker’s illness.

“I understand, Grandpa. I’ll be there tomorrow night,” she replied.

Soon after, Omari emailed her some information. “Cheyenne, the Todd family is far more complicated than you imagine. Unless necessary, don’t get involved,” he warned, concerned.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at this. Iker’s father has four wives, and Davon, Madam Thalia’s son, is cruel.” He ran KTVs and bars, had shady income, and was a strong contender for heir after Iker’s injury. He was one of those who wanted Iker dead. If Cheyenne helped Iker, she’d offend Davon and Madam Thalia. It was a thankless task. Iker had been ill for three years with no improvement; Davon and Madam Thalia were likely involved. The more he thought about it, the less he wanted Cheyenne to take risks.

“I know, but I have to see him. That’s all, Omari. Thank you for the information.” Cheyenne smiled and hung up. She began preparing for the banquet.

(Note: The final paragraph with the website promotion is removed as it's not part of the story text itself.)