Rascal (Rascals Book 1)(14)

Bring a date, he was telling me. Or you might be out of the running for associate.





6





Alex





“He single-shamed you?” Kelsey asked, her mouth agape, as I told her what had happened at work.

“He was trying to be helpful,” I countered, because I got the sense that Arthur wasn’t telling me because he cared, but because he knew other people did.

“Isn’t that illegal?” she wanted to know. “And shouldn’t a law firm know better?”

I shrugged. “It’s not illegal if it’s not explicit. It’s just a company culture thing. Some places are modern, and don’t care what you do with your personal life, and some . . . Well, they get way too involved.”

“That sucks,” Kelsey sighed.

“Yep.” I took a sip of my martini. “And there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

Because even if I wanted to bring someone to the cocktail party, I wasn’t dating anyone. The last serious relationship I had was during law school, and that had gone South because I spent all my time and energy focusing on my studies instead of fawning over my boyfriend. After that, it had been a string of unsatisfying flings, but even those had been few and far between.

“I’m glad Justin doesn’t have rules like that,” Kelsey said, turning to her favorite topic of conversation, the CEO of her company that she had an all-consuming crush on.

A guy who barely seemed to notice that she was alive. But Kelsey was a romantic. Like, a love at first sight, long walks in the rain kind of romantic. I admired her devotion, but my own romantic past made it hard to believe in love the way that she did.

That didn’t mean I was anti-love. Not at all. I just knew that relationships required work and compromise, and I didn’t have time for either right now.

“I could ask some of the guys at work if they’re single,” Kelsey offered.

I made a face. “No thanks,” I told her. “I really don’t think taking a first date to meet my bosses would be a good idea.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

I hated feeling like I didn’t have control over my life, and this was the very definition of having no control. What was I going to do? It’s not like I could just summon a suitable guy out of nowhere.

Except, at that moment, a guy did seem to appear out of nowhere. A guy I knew.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Emerson said, approaching the table.

He was wearing a simple blue button-up shirt and a pair of black jeans. He looked good. Really good. And I could see Kelsey take notice.

“Shouldn’t you be at your bar?” I asked him.

“I’m scoping out the competition,” he told me before turning to Kelsey and holding out his hand. “I’m Emerson,” he said. “A friend of Alex’s.”

“Oh really?” She raised an eyebrow in my direction. “A new friend?”

“Very new,” he told her.

“He manages the bar on the bottom floor of my building,” I interjected before Kelsey could get the wrong idea.

“There’s a bar on the bottom floor of your building?” she asked, slapping my arm. “Why didn’t I know that?”

“We haven’t opened yet,” Emerson told her. “Next weekend is the grand opening. You should come.”

“Oh, I will,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

I shot her a look. One that she completely misconstrued. Her eyes widened as her gaze swung between me and Emerson.

“I think I’ll go to the bathroom,” she said, giving me a wink.

“That’s not necessary,” I told her, knowing that she thought that something was going on between me and Emerson. Which it wasn’t. Not really.

“Mmhmm,” she said, getting up anyways.

“She seems nice,” Emerson said as she walked away.

“She is,” I agreed. Nice, and way too eager to get me laid.

“What are you drinking?” Emerson asked.

“Martini.” I held up my empty glass.

“Can I get you a refill?” he offered, waving down a waiter before I could respond. “Three martinis,” he said, noting Kelsey’s empty glass as well.

“So.” I turned to him once the waiter was gone. “How’s the competition looking so far?”

“Good.” He glanced around the room. “Definitely a little more of a corporate feel than what we’re going for, but it’s good to see what’s out there.”

I looked around, seeing exactly what he was talking about. This place was a good place to talk business. There wasn’t any food being served and all the tables were tall ones—not really a place to get comfortable, like Rascals seemed to be.

“Alex!” a familiar voice said from behind me.

I turned to find my boss Arthur and his wife, Deanna standing there. I had met her at the Christmas party, and she had been a quintessential lawyer’s wife—classy, smart, but very good at listening to lawyers talk shop.

“Good to see you,” I told them, hiding my fluster. Somehow, seeing work people out of work felt weird, like worlds colliding. “Do you, um, come here often?”