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Brain, please switch off all worries. I didn’t want to think about the doomed, singular friendship I had in my life. Not in front of Sam and definitely not tonight. I really wanted to enjoy the night out. And I hadn’t felt as good about myself as tonight in far too long. Truth be told, it was probably why I wore this dress. Because I wanted to be noticed. To receive any sort of appreciation from others. Even if it was just a quick double look at me from a stranger. Even if it was from my boss. Yes, I wasthatdesperate for some kind of pick-me-up.
“I’m sorry. I’m not going to bore you with my issues.” I took my wine glass. Sipped on it to avoid Sam’s questioning gaze.
Sam drank on his wine glass too, comprehending my subtle request to steer the conversation. “So tell me something I don’t know about you. Like how did you get into the world of branding and advertising?”
“Through several diversions.” I took a long sip from my wine. An extra sip or two was always a requirement when approaching this side of my story. “I dropped out of school at sixteen. Had to get a job and earn money to help out my dad. I only returned to my studies when I was twenty. Took me years and a lot of sacrifices to climb up that ladder. Had to juggle going to university, studying, doing an internship and keeping a part-time job all at once. It was exhausting. Physically, emotionally and financially. Especially after I lost my father and before I met Joe. I was all alone.”
“Seems to me like your sacrifices paid off. Look at you now. Part of the top management of a leading company in town and winning free dinners with the boss. How about cheers to that?” He raised up his glass for a toast.
“Thank you for hiring me, Sam. So, cheers to you.”
“Cheers to me indeed. So lucky to have got you.”
And clink went our glasses.
Two courses of scrumptious meals later and halfway through our second bottle of wine, my stomach was beginning to hurt. Not with food – though I was undoubtedly stuffed – but with all the hysterically laughter. Good thing the hosts gave us the furthest table in the back or we would have annoyed the other patrons.
I hadn’t laughed this heartily in… who knew? My life had been a boring shithole lately. Nobody laughed when stuck in a shithole. Except maybe someone who downed so many glassfuls of wine. Likemoi.
Sam poured us more wine while catching a breath from his last laugh. “Really? The client wanted to show that on TV? Naked and dancing bus drivers? Who would be tempted to use their transport service?” And he burst into a laugh again.
Fuck, why hadn’t I ever noticed what a sexy laugh he had? It was like gravity—an inevitable pull.
I picked up my now refilled glass. Did wine suddenly taste… sweeter? “I know. It’s stupid, right? Fortunately, I happened to be very good at my job and convinced him to go with a more censored approach. Three years later, thanks to the brand I created for him, his start-up grew into a fleet of 100 vehicles. They’re still using the same company I worked for then.”
“I bet your boss missed you when you left.”
“I don’t. I had a horrible salary and a filthy ass for a boss. I much prefer working with you.” Was I slurring?
“Better salary or better boss?” He finished with a wink.
“Both,” I admitted without shame. Blame that on Dutch courage. Or not. My current boss wasn’t an ass at all. Although hedidhave a fantastic ass. A firm, round ass. I never minded walking in his shadow at all.
“Why didn’t you go to work with Joe?”
I gulped the wine that I had just sipped. On automatic, a cynical laugh escaped my mouth before I could stop it. “Joe doesn’t want me. And I don’t want to either, anyway. I don’t want him to boss me around. He could be so uptight sometimes. And if I worked for Joe, there were two possible scenarios of how it could have gone.” I held up my index finger. “One, Joe wouldn’t promote me because he’d be seen as favouring me or…” I stuck up my middle finger too. “Two, if he did promote me, everyone would think he was favouring me. Neither of those was what I wanted. I want to achieve everything because I deserve it, because I work my ass off for it. I don’t want favours.” I raised up my glass proudly as if that would make my statement more powerful. “My career is the most important thing in my life. Knowing how far I’ve achieved by myself, it fuels my life.Oh, shit.”
In all my exaggerated hand gestures, I jiggled my glass a little too much and spilt the wine… on Sam.
I spilt my fucking wine on my boss’s fucking crotch!
“Fuck.” His mouth gaped in disbelief as he stared at the liquid pooling on his lap.
“I’m so sorry.” I pressed my hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter. It wasn’t funny. It shouldn’t have been funny. But it was. Really was.
Sam pushed his chair back to examine the mess in his lap. He looked at me. His face was all serious.
“I guess it’s my fault for keeping your glass topped up, huh.” He snatched the half-empty wine glass that was still in my hand. He shook his head with a sigh and his lips widened into a grin. Then he laughed as if the seriously wet patch on his grey pants wasn’t inconvenient or embarrassing at all. As if it was just a crumb he could simply brush off.
I took my cloth napkin. Wiped it over his wet thighs. “I’m sorry. I think I’m a bit tipsy.”
I looked around the room. It was spinning. Fast. My eyes couldn’t even accept the amount of light in that place. Yep, I was absolutely hammered. How many glasses of wine have I had?
“Lucille.” The call of my full name made me focus on Sam again. “Your hand is…” Sam’s palm splayed above my hand that was still rubbing the napkin over his leg. High up his leg.
Oh, dear.I nearly touched my boss’s penis.
Well done, Lucy. Excellent way to score points with the boss. He brought you here to impress his prospective client over dinner chit-chat and instead here you were, fondling him.
