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Chapter Two
Blue
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Putter’s is busierthan usual. No doubt due to the baseball game taking place downtown tonight. People don’t play around when it comes to their sports in Boston, especially when the season starts to dwindle down. If I’m not mistaken, they only have a couple weeks of games left before the season is over. Thank goodness. I’ve never been a fan of the sport outside of ogling the hot baseball players on television in their tight uniform pants.
Hannah and I join the handful of others that have already made their way across the street to the small bar and grill in the heart of the city. It’s our normal spot, given its close proximity to the office.
“So.” Hannah leans against the bar as we wait for our glasses of wine.
“So,” I add after a long moment of silence passes between us. It’s one of those times when I know Hannah has something she wants to say but she’s unsure if she should say it.
“Was Bruce disappointed that you canceled tonight?”
I know immediately that this wasn’t what she was originally going to say, but deciding not to push my luck, I go with it.
“I didn’t cancel. He’s picking me up here in an hour.” I grin, nodding to the bartender as he sets two glasses of wine on the bar in front of us.
“Tricky, tricky.” She shakes her head at me.
“What? You said I had to come. You didn’t say how long I had to stay.”
“But you’re going to miss all the fun,” she says sarcastically, gesturing around to where several members of our team are scattered, taking up multiple tables in the bar area.
“How will I ever live without all this.” I flatten my palm against my chest and sigh dramatically.
“Hey. The last time you left early you missed Diane and Robert breaking it down on the dance floor.”
“Pretty sure I’m not sorry that I missed that.” I laugh, taking my first sip of wine.
“You should be. It was incredible.” She laughs. “Oh and look.” She gazes past me toward the door. “There’s Robert now. Perhaps we should ask him for a repeat.”
I turn to see the older man with stark white hair enter the room. Robert is the grandpa of the office. He’s one of those people that walks around, making sure everyone is taken care of, and he always brings sweet treats from the bakery down the road, leaving them in the break room for everyone. He says as the honorary grandpa he has to take care of us youngins. I hate to break it to him, but I haven’t been a youngin’ for some time now. And while thirty-two isn’t old by any means, I definitely don’t feel as spry as I did in my twenties.
“Oh and look, he brought a friend.” Hannah nudges me when Harris steps into the bar directly behind Robert. Even though outwardly I cringe, because let’s be real—that man is infuriating on a good day, I also can’t ignore the way the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I may not like him, but I can’t overlook how good looking he is. And man, is he ever.
“Oh joy.” I sigh loudly, rolling my eyes to show my visible distaste as I turn back toward my friend. “What’s he doing here? I thought he was too good to be seen with the likes of us outside of work.”
In the six months since Harris started working with us, I can only remember him coming to one of these outings and he’d only stayed for thirty minutes before he left.
“Guess he decided to mingle with the common folk today. You know, sometimes even Kings have to come down from their castle and grace the people with their presence.”
“King?” I snort. “God, don’t let him hear you say that. All he needs is a bigger head.”
“But then his crown won’t fit.” She crinkles her nose playfully. “Don’t look, but I think he’s coming this way,” she adds before taking a long gulp of wine.
“Wait, what?” I whisper hiss, falling silent when I feel someone slide up to the bar directly next to me.
I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. Even if Hannah’s reaction hadn’t given it away, the smell of his cologne certainly would have. He has his own unique smell, and as much as it pisses me off, it’s an incredible smell. I force myself to breathe through my mouth and continue on like I don’t feel him standing entirely too close to me.
“Are you meeting me at the gym tomorrow morning?” I ask Hannah, not wanting to focus another moment on the man next to me.
“I think so.”
“Which means no.” I snort.
“No it doesn’t,” she protests, her hand going to her hip in true Hannah fashion.
