Malory’s eyes studied me, but I never faltered. Our conversation shifted to shoes, and by the time we arrived at Lexington and 49th, we decided to swap. Her red stilettos gave me the added color she said I needed for a night on the town. I traded her my beige patent leathers, which, of course, she made look sexy as hell.
“Damn, girl, your legs look killer in those shoes. You should wear higher heels from now on.”
“No, thank you,” I say as I almost lose my balance. “Three-inch heels are as high as I need for the workday. How do you last in these things all day?”
“It’s what I do in them at night that should be the question.” Malory gives me a wink and I laugh at her laissez faire attitude toward sex.
Unsure of my footing in these shoes, I take a seat at the bar, thankful there’s one available, and order a glass of wine. Almost everyone from the office is here, some with their significant others, occupying booths and barstools, while Trish, Malory, and I are chatting at the bar. Heather is at the opposite end of the bar, chatting up some Fortune 500-looking guy. I can’t help but hope he’s really the mailroom boy in disguise.
Trish, as it turns out, is pretty funny. Give her a drink and she opens up into a great storyteller. She even has a few dirty jokes that have Malory and I bending over the bar in laughter. I don’t know if it’s the drinks or the fact that Trish, this very sweet little redhead, is telling dirty jokes that makes them so funny. I decide it doesn’t matter and lose myself in the conversation.
The evening also allows me to see how my coworkers interact outside the office. Erik is just as I would have imagined. He’s sitting at the booth in heavy conversation about work with Harvey, Kevin, Gretchen, and Richard. They’re all hanging on his every word. Especially since, every so often, Erik orders a round of shots for the team. That is exactly how I’ve interpreted Erik since meeting him, all work but a lot of fun.
Gretchen is still sewn up, head to toe, in her work attire. Where I let loose a little, she still has her shirt buttoned to her neck and blazer fastened around her waist. I think she only wears jeans to the office just to prove she’s not completely uptight. And when she does, they’re trouser cut. No hip huggers for her. I also watch her chemistry with Harvey. He may not be the most attractive man, but from his calm demeanor and attentiveness, I can tell he’s a good man. Even in the office, whenever I have a question that might seem silly or embarrassing, I always ask Harvey because I know he won’t judge. Shame on me for judging him.
Heather is in her full glory, having changed into a sequin cocktail dress shorter than anything I’ve seen her wear to date. She’s in full conversation with Mr. Fortune 500. Even when I went over to wish her a happy birthday, she gave me a quick “thanks” and quickly averted her attention to everyone but me.
Two hours later, I’m quite buzzed. My second glass of wine is sitting in front of me at the bar. Couple that with the two rounds of shots Erik ordered for us and I’m feeling good. Really good. So good that when Trish starts talking about how she and her boyfriend, Kevin, used anal beads the weekend before, and she describes it like “Mardi Gras in my pants,” I’m literally falling off my chair from laughing so hard.
On my way off the chair, I try to grab hold of the bar, but someone from behind catches me before I hit the floor. Like a rag doll, I’m lifted up and onto my chair. I really can’t have any more to drink.
As I gather myself and wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes, I look up to see Malory and Trish staring over my shoulder, their jaws falling to the floor. I don’t have to turn around to know who’s behind me. The smell of tobacco and vanilla causes me to sober up, quickly.
“I see you guys are having a good time. Please, ladies, don’t let me disturb you. Though, I’d love to know what’s so funny that I nearly had to file workers comp for one of my new star employees.”
My ears blush red in embarrassment. I slowly turn around to see Asher standing tall, picture perfect, as if the day just began. He’s in his full suit with perfect hair and golden eyes. He towers over the three of us, as intimidating as ever. I can feel the heat of his hand on the back of my chair as he leans over to get the bartender’s attention.
“Auchentoshan, twenty-one.” Asher orders his drink and puts his black label Amex on the bar. “And the tab for all this.” He makes a motion with his hand toward the members of Asher-Marks who are out celebrating.
Trish takes a sip of her Captain and ginger, trying to wipe the flush from her face. There’s nothing more embarrassing than being caught by the big boss, doing shots and talking about sex. I wonder if he heard?
Malory isn’t concerned in the least. She is confident and brilliantly beautiful. She has no need to even hide behind her glass.
“Fine choice of scotch.” Malory swivels her chair so she’s in direct line with Asher. “Though I always took you as a Macallan kind of man.”
The three of us watch as he draws his lowball to this lips and takes a sip of the malt liquor, letting it swim around his teeth before swallowing.
“Macallan 1939 is my vice. But there’s a time and a place for largess,” he says with a wicked smile. “Are you a scotch drinker, Ms. Dean?”
“Only with a cigar.” Seductiveness leaks in the way she speaks. I’ve never seen her interact with Asher before. If she weren’t like this with everyone she meets, I would think she had a thing for our boss.
“May I?” Malory motions toward Asher’s glass.
“Be my guest.” He leans into her, offering up the golden liquid in his crystal glass.
Malory raises the glass to her lips, repeating the savoring process Asher had a moment before, never taking her eyes off Asher as her tongue rims the glass.
Trish and I exchange a glance. So I’m not the only one who noticed that.
“Vanilla and honey. A nice blend.”
Their eyes remain connected as Asher’s lips curl up to one side like the devil he is.
Vanilla. Is that the smell? No, he can’t smell that delicious from drinking scotch. Can he? Maybe it's a Scottish thing. I grab my wine glass and take a sip.
Trish breaks the tension. “Speaking of vanilla, the flowers on my desk have an incredible aroma of vanilla.”
I nearly choke on my Pinot. Instead, I spit it across the bar. Malory and Trish step back in surprise. Asher looks unaffected by the scene.
“Went down the wrong pipe.” I swallow.
Like a bolt of lightning, Heather is at my side, taking the space between Asher and me. I’m surprised it took her this long to approach him yet happy for the diversion.
“Mr. Asher! I’m so happy you came out for my birthday. I thought you had plans tonight.” Heather’s short skirt grows shorter as she leans over farther to cut the line of sight between me and the devil with golden eyes.
“I’m glad I was able to see everyone, but I’m not here to enjoy the festivities. I’m on a date.” Asher raises his glass and nods toward a young leggy blonde on the other side of the bar. She’s wearing a long-sleeved black dress with a micro skirt and dangerously low neckline that reaches her navel. She’s standing there looking bored yet waiting dutifully for her mogul to wrap up with his minions.
“You should ask her to join us,” Trish cheerfully offers. Bless her heart.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I never mix business with pleasure.” I can’t see Asher’s expression as he utters these words. I wonder if he’s directing them toward someone. Maybe Malory?
“Asher, we weren’t expecting you.” Erik walks over from his booth. “Not like you to join us at our little get-togethers.”
“I like to make unexpected appearances now and then.” His demeanor is calm and authoritative. He’s still in workplace mode.
“Don’t we know that from this afternoon?” Erik reaches up to set a friendly pat on Asher’s shoulders. “If you don’t mind me stealing these ladies, Heather, Malory… Harvey and I have a bet I need you to settle.”
“Sounds intriguing.” Malory willingly takes my patent leathers over to the booth while Heather sulks away from Asher. Erik gives Asher two taps on the back and escorts the girls over to the booth. I immediately hear an uproar as the girls approach. Apparently, they’re reliving some old escapade and are trying to decipher whose version of the story is correct.