Dare Me(4)

“This group. You say it like we’re a bunch of lepers.” He laughs and leans back against my desk, crossing one of his legs over the other.

“Morning, sunshine.” Rowan air kisses my cheek and sets a piping hot cup of coffee from the local coffeehouse on my desk. He’s our early bird, and if I’m not here promptly at eight o’clock, he’ll walk to the coffee shop down the street and bring me back my coffee. God forbid he waits five minutes for me to get here. He’s a creature of habit, and I love him all the more for it.

“Non-fat caramel mocha,” he says, nodding at the cup he just set in front of me. “What are you two up to?” He glances between Zay and me. “Looks like I interrupted something.”

“Zay says we’re doing happy hour tonight—”

Rowan claps excitedly. “Damn right we are. I need about six stiff drinks and—”

“That’s not the only stiff thing you need,” Zay jabs at him.

Rowan looks forlorn. “If you only knew, child . . . if you only knew.” He recently broke up with his partner of sixteen years, and he’s anxious to put himself out on the market. He shakes his head and takes a seat in the only extra chair I have in my cubicle.

“What are you whores doing?” Kinsley asks as she walks by, throwing her purse and laptop bag onto the floor of her cube. She sits directly across from me and always keeps me entertained. She kicks off her flip-flops and steps into a pair of four-inch heels that look as though a hooker on Cicero Avenue should be wearing them. She strides across the hall and leans against the opening of my cube. “Did you get me a coffee?” She asks Rowan, batting her eyes and pouting her lips.

“Do I ever get you a coffee?” He rolls his eyes.

“Asshole,” she mumbles under her breath and rolls her eyes. It’s all in jest. Rowan and Kinsley could insult each other all day, but it’s always for fun and shock value.

“Didn’t get laid last night, sweet cheeks?” Rowan laughs.

“Nope. That’s the plan for tonight.” She smirks. “I’m taking someone home, and if the pickings are slim, it’s going to be one of you two.” She looks between Zay and Rowan. With Rowan being gay, that leaves Zay as her target and she gives him a flirty smile.

“And I’m out of here.” Zay pushes himself up from my desk and walks away, mumbling something under his breath about crossing boundaries. We all laugh and Kinsley slides into the spot Zay just vacated.

“So tonight,” she says, pulling my coffee from my hand and taking a sip. “You’re in, right, Saige?”

I roll my eyes and smile. “Do I have a choice?” They never let me say no to happy hour.

“Nope.” She giggles and taps my nose, handing me my coffee back.

“Do I at least have time to go home and change?” I feign annoyance.

“No. We’re outta here at four. It’s just down the street. There are always good-looking suits in there. Suits and cheap drinks, girlfriend. That skirt you’re wearing is exactly what you need. You look hot, Saige.” She gives me a little wink.

By “suits,” she means businessmen in their suits. “I’m not looking for a man or free drinks, Kins. I’ll come for a quick drink. That’s it.”

“Drinks,” she corrects me. “We’re staying for drinks. Plural.”

I roll my eyes at her and log in to my computer.

“I’ll look out for you, kiddo.” Rowan pats the top of my head. “Until then, I’ve got work to do.” He starts walking away but turns around quickly. “Oh hey, great job on the Zamora and Dubai planes. Tonight over drinks, you’re going to have to tell us how you got those bastards to agree to anything because I was convinced we were losing those sales.”

I nod at Rowan and bite down on my lip as I fight back the smile forcing its way across my face. I’ve always prided myself on doing good work, but closing these two deals hopefully solidified the fact that I’m serious about my job at Jackson-Hamilton.





Saige

Zay opens the large wooden door to Bar 51, and we enter the dark bar. The place is packed wall-to-wall with bodies. I can barely hear myself think over the roars of laughter and loud conversation that fills the air.

“Holy shit,” I mumble as Zay grabs my wrist, and we wind through the human sea. Tall pub tables are surrounded with people that chatter away and laugh, enjoying Friday night’s happy hour festivities.

“Over there,” Zay announces. I glance to where he’s pointing and find Kinsley waving her hands in the air to get our attention.

“’Bout time you *s got here,” she chides and pulls her purse off a chair she was saving for me.

I slide into the tall chair and look around the packed bar. Leaning in, I holler across the table, “This place is insane.”

“I know,” Kinsley responds, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “They opened about six months ago. It’s the ‘it’ place to be on a Friday night. Drink specials until close.” She lifts a martini glass full of pink liquid and takes a sip.

“What’re you drinking?” I ask. Whatever it is looks delicious with a raspberry floating on top and a twist of lemon peel perched on the rim.

“Sex on the beach. It’s good. Want to try it?” She shoves the glass in my face, and I take a little sip.