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Like any bar, its lights are a little dim but still bright enough at this time of night that you can see what is happening around you.
Pulling me toward one of the free tables, we all dump our bags at our feet, and before I even have time to get a good look around, Theo throws his hands in the air and yells above the music, “Shots!”
Oh, I just know I’m in trouble. I should have eaten something before we got here, because shots on an empty stomach is never a good idea. To be honest, shots for me are generally not a smart thing. Elouise warned me, when I messaged to tell her I was going for work drinks, to behave, that I’m trying to make a good first impression.
“Not for me,” I tell Theo. “I’ll just get a gin and tonic to start with.”
“Boo! That’s boring, but whatever. Friday nights are for partying.” With that he’s gone, and I’m left with Suzi and a few of the others from the office who are chatting amongst themselves.
Looking around, I can now take in the design of the bar.
There are two floors, and the downstairs area is filled with tables, and to the side there is a dance floor that is empty at the moment. I’m guessing the night is young and plenty of time for that to start up.
Next to the bar where I can see Theo ordering drinks, there is a grand-looking staircase that heads up to a mezzanine level. It’s empty of people, and the stairs are roped off. I’m guessing they open that later as the bar starts to fill up.
The music is pumping, and I can’t help but start to move with it. I love dancing, although I’m sure I look like a baby giraffe out on the dance floor. I’ve never had much co-ordination.
“Right, bottoms up, people,” Theo declares as he places the tray of shots on the table, along with my G&T. “Oh, and drink up slowly to our boring new work friend over there.” He waves his hand at me and everyone else laughs. Already I can tell Theo is the head of the crowd in the office. He tends to lead them and always tries to be the comic relief and center of attention.
Although I need to be careful, I also want to fit in at the new job. I already know that I should never listen to peer pressure, but despite that, I know I’ll be joining them on the next round of shots.
Little do I know the shots never stop! And I don’t know how to say no after the first one.
ChapterFour
NICHOLAS
“That went well… not,” Flynn mumbles under his breath as we head down the hallway from the conference room.
“I don’t give a fuck what they think. It’s happening anyway.” The annoying feeling of having to answer to them keeps my shoulders rigid and my pulse rate up. Flynn struggles to keep up with me as I stomp toward my office. When I’m in a mood like I am now, his shorter legs are no competition for mine when I’m in full stride.
Lucy knows not to even ask as we pass by her desk, and I hear Flynn closing the door behind him.
“They do know that I don’t really have to ask their permission. I have the majority of the shares and own the company. They are just token board members. Overpaid and overopinionated figureheads that think they’re important,” I rant, pacing my office with built-up frustration I have no idea what to do with.
“Calm yourself down. They might not get a say, but they can make life difficult for you if you piss them off, so how about we just smile like we always do, tell them what a great suggestion they had, and we will take it on board. Then as usual, we do what we damn well please anyway.” Flynn drops onto the brown leather couch that I’m sure has a permanent impression of his ass in it. He never likes to sit at my desk with me, proclaiming he doesn’t want to be known as one of those stuffy businessmen. Not sure how the difference between the couch and a chair changes that, but I gave up arguing with his weirdness years ago.
“When my grandfather was alive, I understand that he needed help from them to run this place, but he’s been gone now for three years. I have not only maintained the company but improved sales and profitability in a tough market and with a product that was old and tired. How much more do I have to do to prove myself to them, that I’ve fucking got this and to trust me?”
The door opens and Flynn’s brother Forrest, who is my Chief Financial Officer, walks in, and knowing I’m in full rant mode, he just slides into the chair next to my desk. Having been in the board meeting too, he knows how pissed off I am.
“Well, if they didn’t know how you felt, they surely will now. I’m certain they could hear you loud and clear as they were exiting the boardroom. So shut your trap and sit down. Let’s get on with the day and make this happen. Then tonight we are going out for a drink or two, and you need to get laid. Burn off some of that tension you are carrying around like a monkey on your back.”
Ugghhh, I know he’s right, but it’s the last thing I feel like doing tonight. My facial expression gives me away.
“Don’t you even think about coming up with an excuse,” Flynn says. “I know what’s in your diary. Lucy already confirmed you are free. What about you, my boring brother? You up for a pint or two, or probably something stronger?” he asks Forrest. He looks very proud of himself as I finally feel settled enough to sit down in my chair.
Forrest nods. “Firstly, when will you stop calling me your boring brother? You know how much it pisses me off. But your awful vocabulary aside, the answer to your question is, fuck yes, I’m in. Something to wash away the words from those twat mouths.” I can’t imagine growing up in a house with these two, who are constantly at each other. Shaking my head at both of them, I pity their mother and father… a lot.
“By the way, I’m sure Lucy is my assistant, and not yours,” I say, pushing my mouse on my desk to bring my computer to life for the start of the day.
“Amazing what the old British charm will do when it needs to,” Flynn says, brushing his knuckles against his chest.
“You do remember she is married to another fine British man who works out at the gym to be twice the size of you. Not sure how happy he would be to find some forty-year-old man flirting with his wife.” I’m flicking my pen up and down in my fingers which has become a habit of mine when I have a lot to think about.
“Thirty-nine, thank you very much. There is only one of us in this room that has a four in his age, and it’s not me.” Laying his arms on the back of the couch and relaxing, it looks like he is settling in for a while.
Forrest leans over and thumps his brother on the arm. Being forty-two years old, he is the senior of the group, which we never let him forget.
