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“I’m sure he’s busy, shortcake.”
Mr. Helm smiles wryly. “I am, but I hope you’ll tell me all about it at the closing mixer. If Elliot is half as determined on a surfboard as he is in the office, I’m sure he’ll do great.”
“Thank you, sir.” I hustle Echo along before my boss changes his mind.
“Great meeting you!” she calls over her shoulder.
I guide her into the ballroom where the deejay is blasting some eighties tune about Walking on Sunshine and head toward the bar. Instantly, my work buddies stare at Echo. I know those hungry expressions. They’re sharks. That’s why they’re great at making money. They also skim the singles’ pool looking for the tastiest morsels before consuming them whole and shitting them out.
They aren’t getting anywhere near her.
After the two of us grab drinks, I give my work pals a vague wave and lead her to a group I don’t normally socialize with: the thirty-somethings. They’re largely married with kids. They spend fewer hours in the office and are less relentless for the financial kill, but they’re also less likely to hit on Echo. We’ll stay at this gathering long enough not to be rude. Then I’ll take her to dinner. Maybe I can suggest a movie, too. Or could I get her drunk enough to pass out? Then I wouldn’t have to worry about her tempting me beyond my control.
“Hey, Elliot!” calls Dave Crenshaw. He’s a decent guy from the San Diego office who trained me my first few days on the job.
“Hey, man.” We shake hands and bump shoulders. “What’s up?”
“Just enjoying the time with my wife before the baby comes in September. Work kicked my ass when we got married so we didn’t get much of a honeymoon.” He introduces me to his other half, Aubrey.
“This is”—What do I call her since she temporarily agreed to be more than my friend?—“Echo.”
She smiles warmly. “We’ve been friends forever. Congratulations on your baby. Have you decided on a name?”
Just like that, the conversation is off and running. Another couple joins us. Then another from the office in the Valley. I came to the mixer thinking I’d shake Mr. Helm’s hand and hang with my buddies for a bit. But I can hear them now, loud and shitfaced, verbally undressing the waitstaff in skirts. God, am I ever that obnoxious?
I’ve always thought mixing it up with the old-and-marrieds would be dull as fuck, but I’ve already made two contacts, got an offer to work on a joint deal, and an invitation to play poker in a couple of weeks. And they aren’t slackers in the office at all. The guy I just met from Orange County tripled the commission I made last year. I’m in awe.
Echo already seems to be fast friends with their wives. I’ve heard talk about visiting a yoga studio back home. My girl knows someone who can paint a mural for another mom who wants one in her toddler’s room. She’s also connecting Kella, who’s got a side-hustle as a web developer, with another wife who’s starting a home-based vegan skincare business. Then the group invites us to dinner after the mixer, and Echo is on board. Spending more time with these folks is a guilty relief.
As we leave, I ignore the ribbing from my usual pals still hanging by the bar, drinking the company booze, and get an approving thumbs-up from Mr. Helm.
Dinner with everyone is great. By the time it’s over, Echo also has connections for gently used play equipment for her new employers. Best of all, she smiled the whole evening.
On the way to our bank of elevators, I reaffirm my game plan: put her in an orgasm coma while keeping my pants zipped, then take a self-pleasuring shower afterward and shake off any sexual thoughts I have. Tomorrow…I’ll figure out how to recycle the strategy so my best friend leaves Hawaii as virginal as the day she arrived. I’ve recovered from my earlier lascivious thoughts. I’m braced now.
Confident, I take her hand. But I’m startled again by the sudden awareness that zips and hums between us.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I say.
“Of course. It was fun, except…” A blush stains her cheeks. “The women asked me how long we’d been together. I did my best to be non-committal.”
I got speculative glances, too. Guys don’t usually ask, but I could tell they had questions. “I’m sure you did great.”
The elevator doors open, and we step in. We’re totally alone since it’s late. Time to put my plan in motion.
I back Echo against the wall of the ascending car, take her face in my hands, and press my body to hers. I’m more eager to touch her than I should be. The instant I do, my control starts to slip.
It’s not a good sign.
