Dare Me(5)

“It’s really sweet . . . and strong.” I lick my lips and give my head a little shake.

“What do you want to drink, Saige?” Rowan asks. “I’ll get this round.”

“Umm, let’s try a vodka-cranberry. And a large ice water, please.”

“*,” Kinsley mumbles, then starts laughing. “Just kidding. Ease into it, kid.” She calls me “kid” as if I’m ten years younger than she is, and I can’t help but laugh at her. “I’ll have another one of these.” She lifts her glass to Rowan, and he nods.

“Since our waitress hasn’t been by, I’m just going to get them from the bar,” he says before disappearing into the dimly lit space.

I’ve been here six weeks, and I’ve been somewhat of a homebody, only wandering out to explore the city for a few hours during the day on the weekends, except for the occasional happy hour with my coworkers.

The city seems larger than I remember, but I only ever explored with my mom a handful of times before we moved back to North Dakota. Millennium Park and Navy Pier, although touristy, were my favorites as a child and they still are. But I have yet to experience the nightlife Chicago has to offer.

Evelyn, my roommate, is a nurse, and she works the night shift at Rush University Medical Center. With her being the only other person I know in Chicago, my evenings have been limited to watching marathons of Property Brothers and House Hunters instead of wearing slutty dresses and traipsing through every chic club.

“Where’s Emery?” I ask, noticing her sweater and purse on another chair, but no sign of our sweet hippie friend anywhere nearby.

“No idea,” Kinsley says, sipping her drink. “She dropped her shit and disappeared.”

Zay snags an open chair from another table and squeezes it into the small space between Kinsley and me just as Rowan returns, juggling four drinks in his hands.

“This place is a madhouse!” he says, sliding the drinks on the table. “Our waitress is coming with your water,” he hands me my vodka-cranberry, “and to order us another round. I’m planning ahead.” He winks.

“I like how you think,” Zay says, grabbing his bottle of beer from the center of the table.

“Me too!” Kinsley agrees, and I just laugh at how my professional coworkers have suddenly turned into complete lushes.

Rowan picks up his glass of wine and holds it over the table. “Cheers to great coworkers and thank God it’s Friday!”

“Cheers!” everyone yells, and we all toast. I take a sip of my drink, thankful I decided to come out.



An hour and a half and four drinks later, we’re all still here. Emery made her way back to us after seeing some old friends and catching up with them for a while.

“So, Saige, talk to us. We know you’re from North Dakota, we know your roommate’s name is Evelyn, but what else? Give us some dirt,” Kinsley says, eagerly tapping her fingers on the table. “I mean, you’ve been out with us only once,” she questions, “and all I know are the basics. Tell me the dirt.” She winks at me.

“Dirt?” I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t have any dirt, but even if I did, you fools are the last people I’d tell it to!” I wink back at her and laugh.

Everyone busts out laughing, and Rowan shouts, “She’s smarter than we give her credit for!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying not to be insulted by his comment.

He rolls his eyes toward me in an obvious way. “I mean, come on, Saige. You just graduated college. You know how lucrative Jackson-Hamilton is and how hard it is to get a job here. I didn’t mean that you weren’t smart. We just assumed Mr. Hamilton got a good look at you and that’s why you were hired, not because you actually had the credentials.”

I blink at him, offended by what he just said. “So a smart woman can’t be pretty too? Not that I’m pretty,” I add, more to myself. “I’m actually kind of plain—”

Zay snorts, cutting me off, and I shoot him an annoyed look.

“Look. I was fifth in my class from the university. I have a degree in interior design and an extensive background in aviation. I went to the number one flight school in the country and have my private pilot’s license—even though my fear of heights about killed me getting it. I hate flying. I got this job because I have what it takes, not because I’m a pretty face.” I swallow hard but force a smile to hide the fact that I’m obviously hurt by his assumptions.

He has the guts to look sheepish, at least. “I’m sorry, Saige, I really didn’t mean it that way. I was trying to be funny and I missed the target.”

“Ya think?” Emery grumbles, then turns to me. “Saige, you’ve more than proven you have what it takes. Ignore him.” She narrows her eyes at Rowan in annoyance and he shrugs.

“No, don’t ignore me,” Rowan begs playfully. “I wouldn’t be able to take it.” He presses his hand over his heart.

I can’t help but chuckle, even though I’m still slightly hurt. “I’m not upset,” I tell him, only half-lying. But then Kinsley makes a face, like she knows she’s about to upset me.

“It’s just the way we see Mr. Hamilton look at you,” she says. Ah, Kinsley. If this group is concerned about how anyone got hired here, they should be worried about her. A party girl with a filthy mouth working at one of the most exclusive aviation companies in the United States.