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“Yeah.” I give my tie a light yank. “I hate drinking in a tie. Not my style.”
She chuckles and props her hands on her hips as she considers it.
I hold open the stockroom door and wait. I don’t have to say anything else. I know I’ve got her hooked.
“Fine,” she says. “One casual drink.”
I smile.
Gotcha.
CHAPTER 18
PAIGE
Casual.
A casual drink with a co-worker.
I reach the entrance to the bar, casually.
It’s crowded tonight, though not too crowded for a New York Wednesday. I shouldn’t stick out too much in a sweater and jeans; the most casual articles of clothing in my suitcase.
After a bit of scanning, I spot Oliver sitting at the bar. One step forward and I pause, taken back by his sudden smile. He’s talking to somebody.
Shirley.
Her hair tumbles over one shoulder. She’s still wearing her server uniform, but she’s clearly off the clock with a loosened collar and open vest. She says something and touches Oliver’s arm from the stool beside him, laughing the entire time.
My chest tightens, though I’m not sure why. Why would I care if he talks to other women? Smiles at other women? Accepts the oh-so-casual touches of other women with fun and flirty red hair and big lips and?—
Okay, maybe he was on to something with that jealousy thing before.
I should duck out of here before he catches me staring at him, or else he’ll never let me live it down.
Oliver looks up and smiles.
Shit.
I push myself forward, pretending to move with momentum as I make my way toward the bar. As I approach, Shirley turns her head and grins, her lips emblazoned with a deep red non-regulation lip color, but she’s on her own time now.
“Hey, Paige!” she greets me as she scoots off the stool. “I saved your spot.”
I shift back to let her step around me. “Oh, thank you,” I say.
“Thank you, Shirley,” Oliver says, raising his bottle. “And thank you again for the drink.”
“Anytime, Mr. Black,” she teases as she slinks into the crowd. “I’ll see you around. Bye, Paige.”
“Bye, Shirley. See you next quarter,” I say out of pure habit.
But that’s not true, is it?
I’ve already forgotten that this will be the last time I’m here as the Assistant to the Company Liaison. It’s a sudden thought, but strong enough to twinge my stomach.
Oliver gestures at the stool for me. “Have a seat,” he says.
I slide onto it, careful not to brush against the man on my other side. “Thanks,” I say again.
