AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Natalie
“I’m sorry, is that whiskey?” I ask as the server returns to our table with a tumbler full of booze. Roger had walked in and made a cryptic hand gesture to the bartender, andviola, the drink appeared.
Roger massages his sore cheek and looks at me.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m having a pretty lousy day,” he smiles at me and shakes his glass so the big fancy ice cube clinks against the sides.
What the hell. It sounds like a great idea to me!
The fact that my job was on the line for something entirely out of my control stings. After all I’ve done for this company, one lousy tabloid scandal, and I’m being reprimanded like a naughty college student. That and fucking Gabby.
“I’ll drink to that,” I say as I nod toward his tumbler. Roger smiles and signals to the bartender. Before I know it, a glass full of delicious whiskey is placed right in front of me.
“I owed you a drink anyway, right?” Roger says as he shoots me another smile.
“I think you already covered that with the case of wine,” I say, starting to feel tingly. This day may be for shit, but at least the guy who fucked me (in a fun way) is being nice. Besides, we’re in this together.
“Did I?” Roger asks, looking genuinely puzzled.
I can’t tell if he’s being cute, or if he really doesn’t remember. What happened to him last night? He shakes it off and resumes his charm.
“Well, Ms. Ashcroft, what shall we drink to this time?” he asks as he raises his glass. I laugh and blush a bit, remembering the start of our evening.
“I think you ought to pick. I said the shop owner last time, and somehow jinxed us into this hell, so this one’s on you.” I don’t mean to sound so bitter when I say it. Thenightended quite well in my opinion.
But this whole thing is teetering on disaster. I can feel it in my bones. Maybe our new toast will break the spell and everything can go back to normal.
“Alright,” Roger smiles, giving me a once-over that makes my skin hot. “I’ll toast to the tabloid! Hell, this kind of press might actually help my business,” he laughs and starts to take a sip.
I stare at him, any heat flushing through my body immediately shriveling to ice.What the fuck did he just say to me?Roger finishes his sip with a sharp inhale, enjoying the taste, before he catches my eye.
“What?” he asks, looking worried. “You don’t like it? I can get something else —”
“This is not a fucking joke, Roger,” I say through gritted teeth. He stops signaling to the bartender and looks at me, concerned. “This may be a fun little fuck-up for you, but this bullshit this, violation… it almost cost me my job.”
Roger is deadly quiet at that revelation.
“So, enjoy the boost in your sales, but sometimes, things have real consequences for people who aren’t Roger Zane.” I take a big sip of my whiskey and enjoy the smooth burn. Damn, but that’s delicious.
It’s already starting to take a little of the edge off my burn. How could I have forgotten I’m talking to a man of playboy privilege? Fucking some fancy magazine editor would look great for his adoring fans. Guess he doesn’t care who gets trampled in the process.
“I’m sorry, Natalie.”Huh?I look up to see Roger leaning across the table, looking earnestly into my eyes. He reaches for my hand and I’m too shocked by the gesture to move it. “I didn’t know. That was shitty of me to say.”
Oh.
I slide my hand away from his and pick up my glass. “Just think of something else to toast to before I walk out of here, okay?” Roger smiles, but he still looks worried. Oh God, does he actually care what I think?
“Alright, let’s drink to the delicious lunch I ordered for us.”
I’m about to ask what the hell he’s talking about when plates of food arrive.Am I on TV or something? What is this magic?I raise an eyebrow and clink my glass to his, taking another sip.
It’s already pooling in my belly and giving me the same lovely buzzy feeling as last night. Oh, wow, thisfood.For a moment, neither of us says anything because we’re so invested in what we’re eating.
Somehow, they’ve made even the salad taste divine. Everyone in the office stays in shape by picking at their luxury iceberg lettuce like they’re enjoying themselves. And, too often, I’ve been a victim of such leafy horror.
But this is amazing. The chicken is cooked to perfection, I’m not sure what this sauce is, but I’d fuck somebody to have the recipe. I look up at Roger. I’ll bet I could fuckthissomebody for the answer. I’ll have to ask after I finally swallow my food.
I’m not sure if it’s the whiskey, the meal, or the company, but I’m starting to feel a little less angry about Roger Zane and this historical shit show of a day.
