Rascal (Rascals Book 1)(17)

“I’m ready when you are,” he told me.

We headed out of the bar, and as we left, he put his hand on my lower back to guide me around some of the construction. I could feel the heat of his palm all the way through my dress. It was warm outside, but I shivered. His touch—just that simple gesture—was electric.

“I thought we’d grab a cab or a Lyft,” I said, moving away from his hand and heading in the direction of the main street.

But Emerson pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. “I can drive,” he offered, and led me to where a surprisingly sleek car was waiting. I didn’t know much about cars, but I glimpsed a Lexus badge before he opened the passenger door for me and slid inside.

His car was nice. Much nicer than what I expected a scruffy bar manager to own, not even including the fact that parking could be so bad in the Loop that owning a car was a bit of a luxury in and of itself.

Combined with the gorgeous suit that Emerson just apparently had at the ready, it was clear he had plenty for me still to figure out.

“So,” he said as we pulled away from the curb. “What do I need to know? And whose rings do we need to kiss?”

I laughed. “I guess you know how these kinds of parties work then?”

He nodded. “I’ve known a few lawyers in my time,” he commented vaguely. “The guy we met the other night, is he your boss?”

“One of them,” I confirmed. “He’s one of the partners, but I’ve done most of my work directly underneath him. I’m up for an associate position at the firm, but there are three of us in the running, and only one position available.” I glanced over at him, drinking in his handsome profile. “Parties like these are really important for our visibility at the firm. I really appreciate you coming with me,” I said sincerely, not sure if I had said it yet. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, reaching over and patting my hand.

There was that heat again. I was torn between wanting to pull away and wanting to intertwine our fingers together. Luckily I didn’t have to make a decision, because Emerson’s hand was back on the wheel before I could.

“Who’s the competition for your spot?” Emerson asked.

I filled him in on all the details as we headed towards the party. Told him about Lucinda and Bryce, about the other partners and various other co-workers. I tried not to overwhelm him with information, but he seemed to soak it all up, nodding along as I explained office dynamics.

“And how serious is this?” he gestured between us.

I paused. I hadn’t even thought about what I was going to tell people about Emerson. Lying never felt like a good thing to do to my co-workers, but I was already elbow-deep in this lie. What were a few more little omissions or fibs?

“We’ve been together since the New Year,” I told him. “That will explain why I didn’t bring you to the office Christmas party.”

He nodded. “So it’s new.”

“But we’re both committed to it,” I added. “We’re on the same track, so to speak.”

“So it’s pretty serious,” Emerson clarified.

“Serious enough that I’m bringing you to the party.”

I got the feeling that the only thing worse than not bringing a date to tonight’s party would have been to bring a guy that I was only casually dating. That would give the wrong impression of me to my apparently old-fashioned partners.

We pulled up in front of the restaurant. I took a deep breath, but before I could get out of the car, Emerson grabbed my arm.

“You’re going to do great,” he told me.

It was reassurance I hadn’t even known I had needed, but in that moment I was grateful for it. For him. I gave him a smile, and we headed inside.

Everyone was wearing black. Emerson and I fit right in, though my earrings might have been considered flashy in a crowd that seemed to favor no jewelry or adornments of any kind. The only women who were wearing any kind of color—whether it was their shoes or a brightly colored lipstick—were some of the secretaries, who had apparently decided to let loose on the weekend.

A waiter walked by with champagne, and Emerson snagged us two glasses.

“One drink,” I told him, knowing that getting drunk, or even tipsy, at this party, would be a major no-no.

“What, you mean we’re all not going to get hammered and wind up at karaoke?” Emerson teased. “He looks like he could do a mean Jay-Z.”

He nodded to Wilberson Farhydt IV, our ancient head of property law, and I nearly spluttered into my champagne.

“Emerson!” I hissed, giving him a nudge.

Emerson grinned back. “Relax, sweetheart. I can play by the rules.”

I took a breath to recover and looked around. The event was being hosted at a fancy hotel, with chandeliers glittering overhead and silent waiters making the rounds. Only the best for our firm.

“Alex!” Lucinda appeared out of the crowd, coming towards us.

She was followed by Bryce and a man and woman, who I assumed were their partners.

“So good to see you,” Lucinda said, taking my shoulders and giving me two loud, air kisses next to each ear. “This is my husband, Roland.”

Roland looked as polished and prim as his wife, his lips pursed as he shook hands.

“Lovely to meet you,” he said politely, but also like he was better than us.