I was surprised Ms. Fallon knew exactly where to go in this maze of a bar. She moved with confidence, weaving through the crowd, and—judging by the way she greeted the bartenders—she clearly knew them. Then she told the group the drinks were on the house.
Hm. Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind. The last thing I need is an alcoholic secretary.
Despite my unease—the suffocating noise, the obnoxious strangers, the constant shuffle of bodies in and out—I had to admit, I actually enjoyed watching Marcie. She was laughing, radiant, sliding easily into conversation with everyone around her. That had always been her talent. The reason I'd closed so many deals—thanks to her ability to charm a room. At my business parties, guests would always comment on her laugh—bright, contagious, sweet. Sometimes, without realizing, I'd catch myself smiling just from hearing it.
And tonight, I did it again. Too late, she caught me staring. Her smile faltered, her expression stiffened, and she quickly edged toward another corner. True, this was technically a company dinner party—or whatever definition my employees had invented for it—and she didn't have to hover at my side. Still, I couldn't help but follow, closing the distance between us.
"Are you enjoying yourself more now that I'm here?"
She blinked, did a quick double take, and gave me a once-over as if I'd invaded her personal space—which I hadn't. Not exactly.
"Oh, yes," she said quickly. "Always a joy when you're around."
I rolled my shoulders back, fueled by sudden confidence. I could tell she was nervous around me. It must be my great aroma and high class—qualities this place is obviously missing.
"What are you doing?" she asked, brows knitted as I handed her a fresh drink.
I shrugged, then leaned in slightly—close enough to speak in her ear. The move made her jolt forward, as though my presence was physically overwhelming. I couldn't blame her.
"I'm being sweet and attentive. Like you said you like," I replied with a smirk.
She choked, coughing violently, and I instinctively patted her back. For a moment, I thought she might actually collapse. Her drink trickled down her chin, and I reached for a napkin, but she waved me off with a flustered hand and fled to the other side of the room. She didn't have to flee to yet another corner. The act was borderline childlike. I barely had time to sort through the tangle of confusion in my head before I slammed directly into Cherry. The dirty floor sent us both slipping, and we crashed down in a graceless heap.
Perfect. This suit is ruined forever.