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I’m still too mad about him handling my date to have anything nice to say, but I try anyway. “He’s friends with my sister and her husband,” I tell her. I certainly don’t need to tell her that I almost bit his penis off. Or that he came in here to seduce me, and the whole time, I sat there wondering if I should let him. Or about the tattoo. Or about anything because there is nothing between us.
“Okay, because work relationships can be messy. But I get it. He’s hot.” Her eyes bulge as she says it. “Don’t tell my husband I said that.” She laughs. “Also, if you’re not doing anything tonight, a few friends of mine are going out to celebrate my birthday. Want to come?”
Using a hanger, I arrange the yellow set on the rack. It reminds me of the color of honey.
I haven’t really hung out with anyone from work, and making friends has been hard. Despite how many people live in New York, I haven’t met many people.
“Sure, sounds fun. And if it’s your birthday, it’s my treat.”
“No, my husband is going to meet us later. So he can treat. The goal is always to rack the bill as high aswe can until he gets there, then he pays and gets a drunk, crazy, sex-driven me as a thank-you.” She winks.
“Husband!”Alana shrieks and wraps her arm around the attractive man in the well-fitted suit. They seem perfectly matched. She’s beautiful and charming. He’s handsome in an accountant-possibly-a-secret-spy way. But maybe it’s the glasses.
“Hi, Husband!” we all say in unison.
He shakes his head as he puts down two large fishbowl drinks. “I figured if I came with these, I’d be most welcome,” he says. Alana smooches an appreciative kiss on his cheek. “But you ladies have been managing an impressive job on my tab, huh?”
“Shouldn’t have been two hours late,” one of the girls teases as she happily drags the fishbowls toward us.
We’re sitting in a large booth in a club. It’s private enough but still loud, as we have to yell at each other to be heard.
I told Marco not to follow me and not raise suspicions. He wouldn’t leave me, and I know he’s here somewhere. But for once, I don’t care. I want to make friends. I want to let my hair down. And fuck it, after my shitty date this week, I deserve it.
“Emit, I don’t think you’ve met Honey Ricci yet. She’s the new girl I work with.”
He takes a seat, andAlana sits on his lap. He offers me his hand in greeting. “Ricci?” he says. “The name rings a bell.”
“Her sister is that famous criminal lawyer you see on the news,” one of the other girls I work with says as she splashes her drink on herself.
“Oh, that must be it,” he says as he shakes my hand.
Three men approach the table with more drinks in hand.
“Scoot in ladies,” the guy with short blond hair says.
Talia, my coworker leans in. “Partying with Alana is the best. Her husband always brings his hot colleagues.”
I mean, they’re okay, hot even. But men are not on my mind tonight. That is, until everyone squishes so closely together that I’m awkwardly squeezed between Talia and one of them.
He smells nice and is well-dressed. I’m pressed between them as she attempts small talk, and I purposefully try to shrink back, taking my drink with me as I sip through a straw.
This group is fun, but it’s so different from the partying I did back home with my friends there. Then again, it was always more superficial as well.
“My name’s Kit,” he shouts over the music to Talia but in the process eyes me. His proximity suddenly bothers me. Not in a bad way, but those small brown curls and dimples have cute fuckboy written all over him.
“Talia, let’s dance!” One of the other girls grows impatient and yanks her out of the booth.
“Honey, are you going to join us?” Talia asks.
I shake my head and try not to laugh. “I’m not drunk enough for that yet.”
They shrug and run off to the dance floor.
“Is that actually your name?” Kit asks me, and I’m grateful for the space that has now opened between us.
“Yep,” I reply and take another sip.Is this going to be the same type of guy who will leave me with the bill?I can’t help but feel annoyed by all of the male species after this weekend, and my disinterest is probably obvious. I thought it’d only be us girls.
A woman comes over with a tray of shots. “Do I even want to know who ordered these?” Emit grumbles. But I can tell money is not a concern for him as he nips at Alana’s neck playfully.
