Dare Me(8)

“Nice to meet you.” I reach out my hand to shake his.

“You as well,” he responds and grips my hand firmly. “Holt’s newest protégé?” he asks me, and I look back to Holt and smile.

“Hardly,” I answer Jack. “But I am enjoying my career with Jackson-Hamilton Aviation.” I hope that didn’t come across as ditzy, because I swear, between the higher pitch in my nervous voice and my sure-as-hell fake smile, I know I must look like the biggest airhead. “Mr. Hamilton, I’m sorry to interrupt you two, but do you think I could have a word with you in private?” I ask. I can feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, but I hold my chin high and forge on.

Before Holt has a chance to respond, Jack speaks up. “I have to get going anyway. Great catching up with you, buddy! Golf. Let’s do it before the snow starts to fall.” The two men give each other that half-hug that guys do where they bump shoulders and pat each other on the back. I like seeing Holt Hamilton like this.

“You got it, man,” Holt smiles at his friend. It’s the most casual I’ve ever seen him, sleeves rolled up and guy talk with a friend. He’s always so professional and perfect, nothing ever out of place and his business face always “on.”

“Nice to meet you, Saige,” Jack says before turning back to Holt and flashing a strange look at him. I notice Holt give his head a little shake before he turns his attention to me and leans an elbow against the tall pub table.

“What can I help you with, Saige?” It’s the way he says my name, with his upper lip curling itself into a cocky grin, that gets my heart racing, but it’s that dimple that I want to reach out and brush my fingers over.

“Um, hi,” I stumble through my greeting, realizing I already greeted him when I first got here.

“Hi,” he says, cocking his head a little as if confused as to why I’m standing here.

I turn and look back to the table where Emery, Rowan, Kinsley, and Zay sit, all of them watching us intently. Turning my attention back to Holt, I do my best to push down my nerves and appear confident. “So I was just having drinks with ah, um—”

“Yes, I saw you sitting over there.” He gestures to the table behind us. His eyes dance between my friends and back to me.

“Anyway . . .” I pause. “Would you like to get a drink sometime?” I blurt it out, then add hastily, “Not tonight, or anytime soon, but maybe just sometime, I don’t know, maybe after work—”

“Yes.” His answer catches me off guard. It’s direct, non-wavering, and decisive. While I’m a mumbling fool, he owns his confidence.

“Yes?” I question him, making sure I heard him correctly.

“Yes, Ms. Phillips.” His lips twist into a smile. “I see no reason why we can’t have a drink together.”

I blink a few times. “Because I’m fine if you say no,” I stutter through my sentence.

He chuckles to himself. “I already said yes.”

I chew on my bottom lip to keep from looking like a giddy schoolgirl who just asked out a boy she likes. “Well, great then. We’ll figure out a time to have drinks.”

“Tomorrow night.” Again, owning his confidence. “I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock.” His blue eyes are piercing and locked on mine.

I blink, taken aback. “Tomorrow?”

He smirks. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

I think about that for a red-hot second, and I know the answer—no. Sorry, Drew and Jonathon. I’ll have to fight over the two of you on next week’s episode of Property Brothers. I shake my head. “Nope. No plans. I mean, I’ll cancel the date I had planned with Drew—”

“Date?” he questions, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Kidding,” I mumble. I’m an idiot, I swear.

“Well then, I’ll pick you up at seven.” He pulls his wallet from his suit jacket hanging on the back of a chair and takes out a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill, tossing it onto the table. He presses his glass to his lips and empties the contents into his mouth, setting the empty glass on top of the large bill once he’s finished. “Until tomorrow, Saige.” His eyes darken and his voice lowers as he says my name. He nods over my shoulder, presumably to Emery, Zay, Kinsley, and Rowan, then he steps around me.

“Tomorrow,” I whisper as I watch him leave. I can’t believe that all just happened. I can’t believe he said yes. I’m dumbfounded and confused. And I’m about to vomit.



“Open the door, Saige!” Kinsley yells as she bangs on the metal bathroom stall.

“Go away,” I muster out between bouts of puking. Apparently, I really did need to vomit.

“You need someone to hold your hair.”

I groan and flush the toilet, watching the contents of this evening’s beverages disappear with a swirl. I fan my face and dab the sweat from my forehead with a piece of toilet paper before tossing it in the bowl and flushing one final time. Straightening my skirt, I take a deep breath and release the lock on the door.

“Feel better?” Kinsley asks, stepping aside to let me out of the stall. “You didn’t even have that much to drink—I’m sure it’s just the nerves and the letdown from Holt declining your offer.”

Emery leans against the paper towel dispenser on the bathroom wall, tapping away on her phone. She looks up and offers me a sympathetic look but doesn’t say anything.