Not completely out of line. Not inappropriate. Just not something he usually did.
I hesitated for half a second, before nodding. “Okay.”
We fell into step beside each other, walking toward the elevators in a silence that didn’t feel uncomfortable, but wasn’t entirely easy either.
It was different. Everything about this week had been. I was more aware of him now. Of the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he seemed to be watching without making it obvious.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and we stepped inside. The space felt smaller than it should have. Or maybe I was just more aware of the fact that it was just the two of us.
The doors slid shut, and the elevator began its descent. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
And I told myself I wasn’t going to say anything either.
That I was just going to ride this out like a normal end to a normal workday and go home and not think about him or lunch or the way things had felt slightly off balance all week.
I lasted about five seconds.
“There’s this bar a few blocks away. Bark & Barrel. A few of us go there on Fridays after work. Cheap drinks. Loud music. It’s nothing fancy. But it’s kind of fun.”
There. I said it.
What the hell did I just do?
My heart plummeted before he could even answer. This was stupid. I hadn’t voluntarily spent time with Nathan outside of a Zoom call or a conference room in three years, and now I was inviting him out for drinks?
Nathan didn’t immediately respond. He blinked, expression unreadable.
“I mean, not that I think you’d go,” I added quickly. “You probably have a private sommelier and a $400 bottle of brandy waiting for you at home—”
“Elise.”
I shut up. Mostly because he said my name in that tone again. Quiet. Warm. Unfamiliar.
“I know Bark & Barrel,” he said. “I used to go there years ago. Before things got so,” He waved vaguely toward the skyline. “Corporate.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You? In a dive bar?”
He smirked. “I wasn’t always this polished, you know.” The elevator doors opened. I was fully prepared for the brush-off but instead he asked, “Will you be there?”
I hesitated, caught off guard by the question.
“I always go,” I said. “I need at least one strong drink to recover from a week of working for you.”
Nathan laughed, like actually laughed. The sound was low and unguarded and hit me harder than it should have.
“Well, in that case,” he said, “maybe I’ll stop by. Just to see if you’re recovering properly.”
“Good,” I quipped. “You can apologize to my liver in person.”
His eyes stayed on me a second too long before he nodded his head. “Godnight Elise.”
“Goodnight, Mr.Edge,” I said, turning toward the exit, still not entirely sure what had just shifted between us, only that something had.
CHAPTER NINE
NATHAN
