Jackson grinned. “Hey, Willow. What can I get for you?” My smile faltered. Willow? I stared at him, hoping he’d start laughing at his not-so-funny joke, but he just stood there, waiting to take my drink order. “It’s Willa. With an a,” I snapped. “Will-a.” He winced. “Sorry. I suck at names. Did you want a drink?”
