Izzie Stevens glared at the man's back, every fiber of her being despising right at that moment. No man had ever shot her down. Not when she was tall, blonde, curvy, and a former lingerie model. Especially when said former model was drunk. But yet this man had taken one look at her, and dare she say grimaced, and then ignored her for the rest of the night. Until he told her that he didn't like desperate women. To say she had been insulted would have been an understatement. So while she was rendered speechless, she was barely aware of her arm reaching for his half empty beer, only to pour it on his head. He jumped up, bar stool falling over, and cursed. Then he looked over at her. If looks could kill she would've been dead. But he'd asked for it. No one called Izzie Stevens desperate, as true as it may be in this situation, and got away with it. So as he clenched his teeth and stalked out of the bar drenched in beer, she decided that maybe he was a total dick. And maybe that spark she felt when his hand briefly brushed her shoulder was only a result of the alcohol coursing through her veins. Because there was no way in hell she was attracted to a man that pretty much ignored her advances... right?