She was laughing at something one of her coworkers said, her head tilted back, cheeks flushed. Her normally poised demeanor at work was nowhere to be found. Instead, she was carefree. Radiant. She didn’t look like the woman who handled my schedule with precision or dealt with entitled artists with unwavering patience.
She looked free.
I lingered for a moment, unwilling to interrupt. It wasn’t often I got to see this side of her, and I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. I took a step, striving forward to where I saw Elise sitting, but the moment I was spotted, the mood in the room shifted like a record scratch. The laughter died down and all eyes turned towards me, wide with surprise and alarm.
“Mr. Edge?” Elise was the first one to speak up. “What are you doing here?”
“You invited me,” I reminded her. “Or was that just to be nice?”
Elise blushed slightly under my gaze. “N-no. Of course not. I just didn’t think you’d actually show up.”
I smirked before turning my gaze to the rest of my employees. “You can all relax. I’m not here to ruin your night. In fact,” I motioned towards a passing waitress. “Drinks are on me for the rest of the night.”
The announcement earned me a room full of applause and cheers, but most importantly, a smile from Elise.
“Look at you, Mr. Edge, slumming it with the rest of us,” she teased, standing up with her drink in hand. It was something dark and fruity. “I’m honestly shocked you didn’t turn right back around when you saw the flickering Coors Light sign out front. Do I need to explain karaoke to you or do you know how it works?”
“Of course I do,” I retorted. “It’s where people humiliate themselves on purpose, fueled by dollar shots and poor judgment. Case in point,” I added, nodding toward the stage where a guy in a sweat-stained polo was butchering a powerful ballad like it owed him money.
Elise laughed, and I felt something warm settle in my chest at the sound. She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You’ve got something on your neck, by the way,” she said, her eyes narrowing at something. I wiped my neck with my hand and it came away with the faint smear of peach lipstick I hadn’t remembered to wipe off. “Let me guess, Sadie Stevens?” She arched a brow, her tone clipped.
The way Elise said her name made me think Elise wasn’t as big of a fan as she led me to believe.
“Why did you say her name like that?”
“I didn’t say her name like anything,” Elise shook her head. “I mean, if you want to hook up with a woman like her, that’s your prerogative.”
“And what kind of woman is she?” I pressed.
“You know, the one of the gold-digging variety.” Elise answered before taking a sip of her drink. “You could do so much better than her, by the way.”
“Oh yeah? And what exactly should I be looking for in a woman, Elise? Since you seem to think you know better than I do?”
“Someone who likes you for you,” Elise answered simply. “And I know that sounds completely cheesy, but it’s true. You need someone who doesn’t care about your last name and all the things it comes with. You need a woman who is fun, sweet—”
“Not too sweet.” I interrupted.
“And someone who gets you.” Elise finished.
“Sounds like you have someone in mind.”
“Maybe I do.” Elise didn’t break eye contact.
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could reply, static echoed throughout the room and Marissa stumbled onto the stage, a flirty grin plastered on her face. “Mr. Edge!” she slurred, raising her glass like she was making a toast. “This one’s for you!” she gestured toward the mic-stand, her words nearly incoherent, and I groaned internally as the words to a love song popped up on the screen.
Elise bit her lip, clearly fighting back laughter. “Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve really made an impression. Should we be expecting a performance from you next?”
“Not a chance,” I replied, glancing away from Marissa crooning off-key. “So what about you?” I asked, steering the conversation back to its origin. “What do you look for in a man?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t had enough sangria to answer that question.” She blushed.
“Tell me. Though I’m fairly confident I already know.”
“Oh really?” Elise arched a brow at me. “What exactly is my type then, Mr. Edge?”
“You say you want a man who makes you feel safe and special.”
“Is that bad?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost uncertain.
