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He looks… divine. Handsome as always, but more rugged in some ways. His sleeves are rolled up, highlighting his strong forearms and masculine hands. He’s removed his tie and undone a couple of buttons at his throat, and his eyes are bright and happy.
In that realization, I remember what he said…You make me happy.
It takes all my strength not to run over to greet him, which would be disastrous, so thankfully, I manage to keep my butt on my barstool. I run my fingers up and down the cold glass of ale.
“I see we haven’t forgotten how to have a little bit of fun in this company,” Dylan says to more cheers. He raises his hand, and everyone quiets. “But seriously, this month’s traditionally been a good one for us, but it’s been even better than usual… because of you.” He looks across the gathered group who’re hanging on his every word. “We’ve got our new hires here, so let’s make them feel welcome. You’ve all been great mentors to them, which I appreciate. Keep up the good work there.” A few people fist bump one another, like they’ve got their ‘teamwork makes the dream work’ on lockdown. “To the new hires, continue to learn from your colleagues. They’ve been where you are. They’ve built the house you work in today. So lift a glass, not to me, but to those who’ve come before, to those who come after, and to yourselves. Cheers!”
“Cheers!” the group replies in unison.
I lift my glass, toasting with the person I’m next to, Shanna. She’s also young, and though she’s been with the company for about six months, she was only recently officially hired on. Previously, she was an intern with the firm her senior year of college, and she impressed enough to be offered a job in the payroll department upon graduation.
“Cheers, Shanna,” I reply, clinking glasses with her and taking a drink of my beer. “Welcome to Sharpe,” I tell her, teasing since we’re both new hires.
“You too,” she answers with a laugh before she floats away to continue a conversation with a guy who I think works in HR. Or maybe he’s an analyst? I’m not sure.
I continue to mingle, meeting new people and chatting with the ones I already know, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice Dylan making the rounds too. He stops by each group for just a minute, and I can tell he’s being as politicalas he is sincere. It’s not that he doesn’t want to give time to the people here, but he knows this isn’t quite his place. So he checks in, smiles, and moves on.
I’m over by the pub’s long ‘slingers’ table, watching a couple of the team play the shuffleboard-like bar game, when I feel him coming up behind me, and I turn around. “Mr. Sharpe.”
“Miss Hill,” he says, and once again, I feel that tingle of desire that permeates every instance Dylan and I are together. “Enjoying yourself, I hope?”
“I am. Thank you,” I say politely with what I hope is a warm smile, not an ‘I’ve seen you naked’ grin. “The European markets were quite the roller coaster today.”
He licks his lips and smirks. “They were. I saw you made significant margins this morning. How was the afternoon?"
“Not as good,” I admit, seeming disappointed in that. “But tomorrow’s a new day, right?”
“That it is.”
To anyone around us, it hopefully seems like perfectly pleasant, professional small talk. Nothing untoward happening here, certainly nothing rumor-worthy.
I feel eyes landing on us, then quickly looking away, and I arch a brow, reminding Dylan that we’re keeping us a secret, so we can’t blow it by making eyes at each other while we fake banal chatter.
Because despite my even tone, I can’t help the stars in my eyes when I look at him. He’s strong, powerful, and sexy, and there’s a part of me that wants to say ‘fuck this place and fuck the rumors’ and climb into his car so we can go back to his place.
“Well, I’ll see you later,” he says, nodding goodbye and moving to the next group of people.
I watch him go, and I don’t even realize I didn’t say goodbye until it's too late.
Wait, does he mean later like later tonight, like he's invitingme over? Or did he simply mean later like sometime in the future? Or was it just a polite phrasing of goodbye?
I don’t know, and I can’t exactly ask with everyone around.
I make my way across the pub, where Shanna’s standing by the bar, getting another drink. “Hey.”
“Hey!” she says, sounding slightly tipsy already. “What’s up, girlfriend?”
“Just having another,” I reply after ordering another beer, and Shanna grins.
“Me too!” She makes it sound like we’ve got something major in common, not just something as expected as getting a drink in a bar.
“How many is this for you?” I ask, a little concerned. I don’t know her well enough to gauge her tolerance, and she seems happy-tipsy, not over-served, but I still watch out for others.
“So far?” she asks, looking up. “Uh, Jason bought me one, Liam bought me one, Danny bought me one… ah… oh, and Eric bought me this one.”
“Buying beers for you?” I ask worriedly, and she nods, grinning. “Is that, you know… all good?”
“It’s no biggie,” Shanna assures me. “They’re just trying to hook up, and I’m the one getting the drinks from the bartender, so I know it’s safe." She wiggles her fingers in a flirty wave, and I follow her gaze across the room to where the guys she’s talking about are looking this way and returning her wave, encouraging her to come back to the table.
