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She swallows, wipes her mouth, and then reaches for her drink. “I’m not going to say anything, Penelope.”
I glare right back at her. “Really?”
“Yup.”
Charlotte and Noelle watch us, their eyes bouncing back and forth as we continue our stare-off.
“And why not?”
“Because you’ll talk when you’re ready. And when you are, you know where to find me so I can recommend you to someone who can help you process everything you’re keeping inside.” She taps her chin. “Now that I think about it, I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“See what?”
Noelle mutters out of the corner of her mouth. “She is reading you so hard right now, Penelope, that it’s starting to freak me out.”
“Join the club,” I mutter back. But then I decide that if Amelia is going to continue to be cryptic about what she’s thinking, then I’m going to take this opportunity to change the subject. “You know what? It’s fine. You can go on thinking you have me all figured out. But the only thing that matters is that I know what I want, and a monogamous relationship is not it.” Wiping my hands off in front of me dramatically, I continue, “Well, now that we’ve gotten that conversation out of the way, let’s turn the tables on someone else, shall we?”
Noelle pushes her plate to the side and grabs her stack of potential sperm donors again. “Anyone in the mood to go shopping for sperm?”
“Always down for shopping, but this is definitely a purchase I want no part in,” I reply, grabbing the papers she handed me before out from under my plate. “I am merely here to help you spend your money and find your baby daddy.”
Charlotte and Amelia share a look before we all settle in and get to work trying to find Noelle’s diamond in the rough.
Chapter2
Penelope
“Kristen, did you forget how to speak English tonight? I said check in with the bartenders to make sure they had enough bottles of each flavor, not flirt with the one behind the bar. News flash, he’s gay anyway, so you’re wasting your time.”
Her eyes narrow as she stares up at me. “I did check in with them. They said they were fine.”
“Really? Because I just had to deliver a case of the apple-flavored vodka because they ran out. So try again.”
“But I—”
I hold up my hand to cut her off. “No, I don’t want to hear your excuses. Next time, don’t even bother going over there empty-handed. Bring something with you even if you don’t think they need it, because the last thing we need is for them to have to work twice as hard to do their jobs. The last thing we want is our client worried that we can’t make sure their product is stocked so customers are getting their fix within seconds. That’s how you keep clients happy, Kristen. You make sure they never have to worry about their product being accessible.”
She sighs but reluctantly nods. “Okay. Fine.”
“There’s a reason why I’m the shit, Kristen. Listen to what I tell you, and you’ll go far in this business. You have the potential, but your head isn’t focused on the job. Tonight isn’t aboutyouhaving a good time. It’s about everyone else having a good time. Save your flirting and pick-up attempts for when you’re off the clock. Now go. Make your rounds. Make sure each station is stocked, including the ice luge. I want to see a fresh stack of vanilla vodka over there, stat.”
She nods again and then scurries away, giving me a moment to catch my breath and exhale the frustration building up inside of me.
It’s the night of Zio’s launch party, and now I see why Charles wanted me here. These interns are young and clueless, but I have no reservations about setting them straight. Even though this wasn’t an event I wanted to be at, knowing my boss wanted me here does make my chest swell with pride.
“Damn. Bossy and beautiful.”
Spinning on my heels, prepared to lay into the man for his blatant eavesdropping, I’m caught off guard when the face staring back at me is one I didn’t expect to see tonight, particularly because I didn’t see his name on the list. But I definitely recognize him, as I’m sure the rest of the crowd in the club does, too.
“I’m sorry?” I find my footing again, but I’m stunned speechless by the view of this man in real life. Because let me tell you, the television cameras and stadium lights don’t do him justice.
Maddox Taylor, quarterback for the New Orleans Saints, is standing right in front of me, one hand casually placed in the pocket of his black slacks, the other holding his drink as he smirks down at me, a gleam of pleasure in his hazel eyes.
Standing at least a few inches taller than me, he commands the attention of those around us with his confident stance and the curve of his lips, even though I can tell he’s not trying to. Though he’s dressed like every other guy in the club tonight—a button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows plus slacks to adhere to the dress code—he has a presence that makes him stand out against every other male in the room. He’s the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, but there’s a hint of mischief in that grin, and I can’t deny that I’m intrigued, especially when I shouldn’t be.
“You put that girl in her place. Stern but not overbearing. It was impressive.” He continues to compliment me in a voice laced with a small southern twang as my brain tries to process how I feel about this conversation in the first place.
“Well, I am a pretty impressive woman.”
