Liam #2
“You’re not very good at making conversation when you’re not in the office. What’s the matter, not such a tough guy when you don’t have your coworkers around to cheer you on?”
I angle a look in his direction very quickly before looking back out onto the road again.
The arrogant fucker makes a very valid point.
Yes, it’s true I like being the center of attention, especially at work where I know I have his full attention.
And it gives me great pleasure teasing him every day when I know there is not a damn thing he can do about it without drawing attention to himself.
“I’m the boss, so people have to like me.”
Okay, that was a lame ass answer, but it’s all I can come up with in the spare moment. We’re making conversation. This is good. Really good.
“I guess that’s because you pay our wages. The last thing anyone wants to do is piss off the boss.”
“And what about you?” I ask.
“What about me?”
“How do you feel about pissing off the boss?”
This should be interesting …
“I’ve never really thought about it. And how did this conversation escalate so quickly? Weren’t we talking about family and secrets?”
“We were. Have anything you want to share?” I suggest.
“No. Not with you, anyway.”
Ouch!
I make the final turn to our destination and it’s only a short distance to the venue which I see approaching us on the left-hand side.
I make the turn and find a spot in the parking lot.
Once the car is parked and secure, I turn off the engine and step outside.
Dylan moves at a fast pace but I’m quick to catch up to him, and as we step inside the main entrance, I’m met with several of my coworkers.
I greet Monica and the other girls with a kiss on the cheek, and after shaking hands with the guys, we move toward the direction of the bar.
I look over my shoulder and see Dylan walking several feet behind us.
“We’re headed to the bar, Dylan,” I say.
“Like I give a shit,” he replies.
I glare at him, pinning him with a death stare, then he wanders in the opposite direction. I manage to release my grip on Monica’s arm and then stroll over to where Dylan is standing by one of the vacant tables.
“What the hell was that all about?” I ask.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. What’s with the attitude?”
“I told you I don’t drink, yet you still insisted that I tag along to this stupid party. I’m not going to pretend to have a good time for the sake of my boss.”
“So, I’m your boss now? On the way over here we were family. Now all of a sudden, we’re colleagues.”
“I never said we were family. You came up with that analogy on your own.”
“You know, I’m finding it incredibly difficult to read you right now. I don’t know what you want,” I tell him.
“What I want is for you to get out of my face and leave me alone. Go and be with your buddies and don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself and I certainly don’t need a babysitter.”
Without another word, he turns on his feet and walks away from me.
I open my mouth to say something but change my mind.
Although, I have to admit, seeing Dylan Lewis all worked up and angry like this is kinda hot.
And it makes him sexy-as-hell. When he’s out of my vision, I turn and start heading toward the bar.
When I arrive, Monica already has a drink waiting for me.
I’ve set up a tab for the night, and judging by the way the evening has already started, I know it’s going to be a long one with lots of alcohol involved.
I grab the first shot off the counter and down it in one gulp, then I order another from the guy behind the bar.
He slides another shot across the counter, and I down that one just as quickly as the first.
“Hey, you better slow down. We have a long night ahead of us,” Monica warns.
“Don’t remind me. And what’s with this crap music?”
Ignoring her warning, I grab another shot from the bartender, then I slowly make my way toward the DJ.
I instruct him to play a different song and change the mood of the evening.
He acknowledges me with a nod, and then I walk away, heading back to the bar where Monica and the boys are in a roar of laughter about something.
This time I order a gin and tonic from the bartender, and when he slides it in front of me, Jerry, one of my coworkers, gives me a questioning look.
“That’s your … fourth drink, and you haven’t even been here five minutes yet.”
“But who’s counting, right? And have we forgotten that this is a party? So let’s all stop being the alcohol police and have a great time,” I yell above the music, taking a sip of my drink.
With my drink in hand, I move away from the bar, deciding that I probably should slow down on the liquor.
I look around the venue, trying to find Dylan, but there are so many people around and the lights are dimmed, making it almost impossible for me to see anything.
I move my way through the crowd as best I can and when I finally make it to the other side of the venue, I take a seat on one of the leather chairs and enjoy the rest of my drink.
And just as I’m taking another sip of my gin and tonic, a deep baritone addresses me.
After spending the last two-and-a-half hours mingling and pretending like I give a shit about everyone, I’m in serious need of another drink.
I lost count after my third round of bourbon, or was it my fourth?
I don’t know. But one thing’s for sure, with the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed, I’m definitely having a merry old time at this party.
“Hello, Liam.”
Fuck. No, please just leave me alone.
“Great party.”
Damian Matthews, the head of IT, takes a seat beside me on one of the vacant chairs.
Even at work, I do my absolute best to ignore the guy because he’s a total sleazeball.
He’s been hitting on me for years, even though I’ve told him countless times that I’m not interested and that he needs to leave me the fuck alone.
Taking the opportunity, I get to my feet and attempt to leave, when he stands directly in front of me, blocking my exit.
“Where are you going so fast?”
“Well, this is a party, and a work function. I need to mingle with the other guests,” I reply, flatly.
“But you haven’t even said hello to me.”
“Hi,” I say, half-heartedly, and attempt another getaway but he blocks me again.
“Can I help you with something, Damian?”
“I suppose you could start by buying me a drink.”
“Drinks are free,” I tell him.
“Oh. Well, perhaps a dance then?”
“I’m not really in the mood for dancing right now. Maybe later.”
I try to make another run for it, but despite all my efforts, he has me cornered again.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re trying to avoid me?”
“Is that what I’m doing?” I reply, sarcastically. “Like I said, this is a party and I have to entertain my guests.”
“Why are you always ignoring me at work? The only time you ever talk to me is if I call your desk phone or send an email.”
“The workplace isn’t a place for socializing. We’re there to do a job, not sit around all day and chitchat. Now if you don’t mind, Damian, I really do have to get back to my guests.”
He continues to block my escape, and I’m starting to get really tired of this guy, very quickly.
“I’ve worked hard all year and you don’t even acknowledge my work, yet I always see emails about employees being praised for their work. I’ve worked for your company for three years, Liam, and not once have you appreciated anything I’ve done for you.”
“You work in IT, Damian. You fix the computers for the entire office.”
“I just feel like I deserve some recognition,” he insists.
“Perhaps we can talk about this after the holidays when we go back to work. We can schedule an appointment.”
I try for another escape, but this time, I find my ass pressed against a hard wall, and I hadn’t realized that this whole time he’s been backing me into a corner.
“I think we should discuss it now. After all, this is a work function, right?”
“I don’t discuss work outside of business hours, Damian. Now if you don’t mind.”
I forcefully try to push past him, but he’s quicker than I am and this time pins me against the wall. I look over his shoulders, trying to search the crowd for Monica or Jerry, someone who can get me out of this situation, but I can’t see them anywhere.
“You can give me five minutes, Liam. I deserve that much.”
“Fine!” I say. “What do you want to talk about?”
“This,” he replies.
“What?” I inquire, confused.
“This … sexual tension between us.”
“Excuse me? What now?” I blurt out.
“No need to play coy with me. I’ve seen the way you look at me in the office.”
This guy has some serious issues going on.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Damian.”
“Bullshit, you don’t. Every time I wander past your desk, or see you in the lunchroom, you’re always looking at me like you want to fuck me.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I say, this time I manage to pull him off me and I begin to walk away.
“Perhaps HR would be interested in seeing all the dirty emails you’ve sent me during office hours.”
“What dirty emails? I haven’t sent you any dirty emails.”
“I know that … but HR doesn’t. And working in IT, it wouldn’t take much for me to manipulate an email and send it to them.”
This guy is seriously deranged. I knew there was a reason I didn’t like him.
Keeping my gaze locked on his, I inch toward him, and with my free hand, I raise it above my head, ready to deck the guy, when I feel someone grab hold of my arm and stop me.
I turn around and find Dylan standing behind me.
He shakes his head, and I immediately understand.
I give Damian a death glare and snarl at him as I turn and walk away with Dylan.
“Fucking pussy,” I hear Damian say from behind.
I stop walking and turn around, then take a step toward him.
“Liam, don’t!” Dylan warns.