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“Wait a minute.”
My command halts her in her tracks, her body responding to my voice even though her brain knows better. She turns reluctantly.
“What, Nick?” she asks.
“I believe I asked you if you wanted to get out of here,” I say.
Evie puts her hands on her hips. “And I believe I told you that I don’t date co-workers.”
“Have you?”
“Well if I haven’t, I’m telling you now.”
“Then I’ll respond by pointing out that I’m not a coworker. I’m your boss. And I’m not asking you on a date.”
Evie’s cheeks redden. “If I won’t date coworkers, I don’t think it needs to be said that I also won’t fuck my boss.”
I raise my eyebrows innocently. “Fuck? Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to buy you a proper drink at a joint that doesn’t serve flaming shots.”
Evie crosses her arms. “And why do you want to do that? You’ve spent the last few weeks running away from me every time we might happen to be alone together.”
I scowl. “I don’t run from anyone, least of all you.”
Sensing a sore spot, Evie pokes harder. “Oh really? You practically sprinted out of that design meeting we had this morning.”
I had, and yes it was because I’d looked up from my computer to realize that Tom was walking out the door and the only other person in the room was Evie. But it wasn’t because I was scared to be in the same room with her. It was because I apparently can’t be trusted to stay professional when it comes to her.
But I can’t exactly tell her that.
“I had somewhere important to be,” I say.
Evie looks around. “Ah yes. I can see that. Did you all pregame at your apartment?”
“I’m not wasting top shelf whiskey on people that couldn’t distinguish it from Jack Daniels,” I say. “Not to mention that I wouldn’t let a single one of them into my apartment with a gun to my head. Jack’s bad enough as it is.”
Evie glances back, following my gaze. Jack is trying and failing to talk up a girl who’s staring at me unabashedly.
“Looks like you’re killing his game,” she says.
“First in a long string of things I can’t seem to get right with him,” I mutter.
“Hey,” Evie says, “you’re here, aren’t you?”
“Barely,” I reply and quickly change the subject. “So tell me. Are you going to go down into that sweaty mess just to spite me, or will you admit that this isn’t your scene and come someplace better with me?”
Evie is still hesitating, but the battle is almost over.
“Just a drink?” she asks, eyes narrowing slightly.
“One drink,” I promise.
“No strings attached?”
I make a gesture of crossing my heart. “Not a one.”
Evie bites her lip and then sighs. “I have to make sure it’s okay with Mickey.”
That sounds like victory to me. Maybe this night won’t turn out to be so bad after all.
