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The karaoke bar had shifted into full chaos mode half the crew was singing off-key into microphones, the other half was at the long table shouting over music, drinks, and laughter.
Amanda sat at the center of it all, her jacket off, sleeves rolled up, a drink in one hand and her smirk firmly in place.
Another tray of shots appeared, and the photographer announced like a referee, "Alright, this one's for Amanda our fearless director tonight!"
"Fearless!" people echoed, raising their glasses.
Amanda shook her head, chuckling. "You're all trying to kill me." But she grabbed one anyway, tapping it against Samantha's glass before tossing it back with the rest of them.
The burn hit her throat, making her wince and laugh at the same time. The table erupted into cheers, pounding fists and clapping hands echoing against the neon-lit walls.
The laughter spilled into confessions stories about the day, jokes about near-misses on set, even playful impressions of Amanda barking out instructions. She rolled her eyes at that, but her grin gave her away.
That's when one of the stylists leaned across the table, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. "You know," they said, grinning, "I've seen how you and Ericka are when you're together."
The noise softened just slightly, curiosity sparking across the table. Amanda arched a brow, calm but sharp. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," the stylist nodded eagerly, words tumbling out.
"Y'all would make a great couple.
And hot at that. The way you balance her out it's something.
She's intense, right? Everyone knows it.
But with you there? It's like she can breathe.
And you" they pointed at Amanda, smiling, "you take the load off her without making it look heavy.
She leans on you, and you've got her back. And she's got yours. We all see it."
There were nods around the table now, murmurs of agreement. The stylist shrugged, finishing with a laugh, "Honestly, if y'all ever came out as a couple for real, the office would back you one hundred percent."
For a moment, the table went still, waiting for Amanda's reaction.
Amanda let the silence hang just long enough before she smirked, picking up another shot. "Well," she drawled smoothly, lifting the glass, "I'll take a shot to that."
The group erupted in laughter and applause, cheering her on. She winked at them, then tossed it back with practiced ease.
When she slammed the empty glass down, she added with a laugh that carried over the music: "To me getting my boss to marry me one day!"
The table roared. People clapped the table, shouted "Cheers!" and even started chanting, "Mrs. Mathews! Mrs. Mathews!" in drunken rhythm. Amanda only laughed harder, shaking her head, raising her hands like she was surrendering.
"Y'all are ridiculous," she said, but the grin on her face lingered.
The conversation flowed back into jokes and karaoke performances, but the comment hung in the air. Amanda masked it with her cool exterior, but her pulse thrummed with the thrill and danger of being seen so clearly.
Across the table, Samantha caught her eye, her expression amused but thoughtful. She didn't say anything, just lifted her glass in a subtle toast that said: I see you.
Amanda's phone buzzed on the table. She reached for it casually, but before she could check the screen, someone across from her grinned and pointed.
"I bet that's the boss lady now," they teased, earning another round of laughter.
Amanda smirked, unlocking her phone with calm precision.
Amanda chuckled under her breath, thumbs flying.
The reply came back almost instantly.
Amanda's chest tightened, the heat of those words cutting right through the tequila haze. She was mid-reply when a voice broke across the table.
"Who's got Amanda smiling like that?"
Heads turned. One of the stylists leaned in, shameless, peeking over her shoulder. Their mouth fell open dramatically.
"Guys! It's the boss lady."
The table erupted. Laughter, whistles, cheers the kind that made heads at nearby tables turn.
"I knew it!" someone hollered, slapping the table.
"Power couple confirmed!" another crowed, raising their glass.
"Y'all are slick, but we see it," someone else added with a grin.
Amanda shook her head, rolling her eyes like they were ridiculous, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her.
Then one of the crew leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. "Text her right now. Tell her you want to take her on a date."
"Oh, yes!" someone shouted immediately. "Do it!"
"I dare you!" another yelled, pounding the table with both hands.
"And if you don't," the photographer cut in, his grin wicked, "that's three shots. Right now."
The chants started almost instantly, echoing over the thrum of the karaoke machine. "Date! Date! Date!"
Amanda leaned back in her chair, her smirk slow and dangerous, letting the noise build before she lifted her phone again. "Bet."
She typed carefully, deliberately, her thumbs moving slow enough for the people over her shoulder to catch glimpses. Then she tapped send.
The crew leaned in as she turned the screen around, holding it up for everyone to see.
The table exploded. People shouted, cheered, slapped each other on the back like they'd just witnessed a miracle.
"Ohhh, she really did it!"
"She's bold as hell!"
"That's queen behavior right there."
Amanda lowered her phone, her smirk wide as she reached for the nearest shot glass. "But I'm still taking the shots."
The bartender slid three over with a laugh of his own, clearly entertained by the chaos. The table began pounding their fists rhythmically, chanting, "Do it! Do it! Do it!"
Amanda downed the first one, grimacing at the burn but never breaking her stride.
The second went down smoother, the crew howling with laughter as she shook her head and tapped her chest. By the third, she lifted the glass high like a trophy before slamming it onto the table with a sharp clink.
"Done."
The bar erupted like she'd won a championship game. Strangers clapped. Someone whistled. The crew threw their arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a laughing huddle.
Amanda raised her hands like a champion, her grin wild. For once, she wasn't holding back, wasn't keeping walls up—she was living it.
Her phone buzzed again in her hand. The glow lit up the screen, cutting through the noise.
From Ericka.
The table fell into a hush, watching her curiously.
Amanda smirked faintly, unlocking the phone. The words on the screen made her heart skip.
Just one word. Simple. Certain.
"What'd she say?!" the stylist closest to her demanded, eyes wide.
"Yeah, don't hold out on us!" another chimed in, leaning over the table.
Amanda hesitated for only a second before lifting her phone and turning the screen around. "She said yes."
The table erupted. Cheers, whistles, glasses slamming against the wood, someone even jumped to their feet shouting, "Let's goooo!"
"We called it!"
"Wedding shots line them up!"
Amanda laughed, shaking her head at the noise, but the pride glowing on her face was impossible to miss.
The noise was still peaking when she turned back to her phone, thumbs moving fast.
Her phone buzzed almost immediately.
Amanda's lips curved into a slow, tender smile one no one at the table had ever seen before.
Samantha caught it, her eyes softening as she clinked her glass gently against Amanda's. "Looks like someone's got it bad," she teased.
Amanda smirked, raising her shot high for everyone to see. "To the boss lady who just agreed to let me take her out on a proper date."
The table screamed in approval, clapping and pounding the table as Amanda downed the shot in one go.
For once, Amanda didn't hide. She didn't downplay. She let them cheer, let them celebrate her for Ericka, for herself, for what they'd built.
By the time the karaoke machine warbled into yet another 80s hit, Amanda was sunk into her chair, legs stretched out under the table, her cheeks flushed with a happy glow. She was laughing so hard her eyes watered, leaning into Samantha for balance as someone belted off-key into the mic.
When the music faded, Amanda lifted her head, grinning lopsidedly. "Okay. Okay, listen. I'm drunk. Like... drunk-drunk. Capital D. Double K's. Drunkkkkk."
The table howled with laughter, clapping and stomping their feet. "Same!" "We know!" "One more shot!"
Amanda groaned dramatically, pressing both palms against her face. "Nooo. If I take another one, I'll be sleeping under this table."
"Guess you're calling a ride, then," Samantha teased, nudging her side.
Amanda peeked between her fingers, smirk tugging at her lips. "Yeah... ride. Or wings. Or... nap. Something."
That was all it took for the mischief to ignite.
"Call Ericka," one of the stylists shouted, pointing at Amanda like they'd solved a mystery.
The whole table lit up instantly. "Yes! Call the boss lady!"
"She'll come get you!"
"We wanna see it!"
Amanda blinked slowly, processing through the haze. Then she smirked. "You guys are evil."
The photographer slapped the table. "Nah, we're invested. Call her. And we'll sit right here until she shows up."
The chant started almost immediately, sloppy and loud. "Call her! Call her! Call her!"
Amanda rolled her eyes, already unlocking her phone. "Fine. But when she gets here, all of you are buying breakfast tomorrow."
The table exploded with cheers as she tapped her screen and pressed the call button.
It only rang twice before a calm, familiar voice answered. "Baby?"
Amanda burst into laughter just hearing it. "Heeey. Um. Sooo, funny story I'm drunk. Like, really, really drunk. Like, I lost count of how many shots. Can you, uh... can you come get me?"
There was silence on the other end. Then a soft sigh, warm and resigned. "Send me the address. I'll be there."
Amanda lit up like fireworks. "She's coming!"
The bar went wild cheers, whistles, pounding fists on the table. "She loves you!" "That's devotion!" "Boss lady to the rescue!"
Amanda slapped her palm flat on the table like she'd just scored a point. "Told you. She's the best."
Twenty minutes later, the bar door opened. Ericka's silhouette cut through the neon glow as she walked in, heels clicking against the sticky floor, her fitted coat draped effortlessly across her shoulders.
The table spotted her instantly.
"Wooooo!"
"She came!"
"Boss lady in the house!"
Amanda lit up, throwing her arms in the air. "There she issss!" Her words slurred, but her grin stretched from ear to ear.
Ericka's gaze swept the rowdy group before settling on Amanda. Her lips curved into a half-smile, half-sigh the kind she saved only for Amanda.
"What exactly is going on here?" she asked, her voice warm but carrying that CEO sharpness that could cut through any room.
Before Amanda could mumble an answer, one of the stylists leaned over the table, grinning like a fool. "Congrats on your soon-to-be wedding and your first date!"
The table roared with laughter, chants firing back up: "Mrs. Mathews! Mrs. Mathews!"
Ericka blinked, then let out a laugh, low and smooth. "All of you are drunk."
"Yup!" Amanda said proudly, wobbling to her feet.
Ericka moved quickly to her side, slipping an arm around her waist, steadying her. Amanda leaned heavily against her, mumbling into her shoulder, "Told them you'd come."
The chants of "Mrs. Mathews! Mrs. Mathews!" still echoed as Ericka started guiding her toward the door. Amanda leaned heavily against her, grinning like a kid who'd just gotten away with something.
Once they were clear of the table, Ericka leaned down, her voice low and laced with amusement. "Alright, baby what exactly did you tell them?"
Amanda snorted a laugh, trying to walk straight but failing. "Nothin'! They figured it out all on their own."
Ericka arched a brow, steering her toward the exit. "Uh-huh. And what exactly did they 'figure out'?"
Amanda lifted her hand like she was swearing an oath, her words slurred but earnest. "They said.
.. that we're a power couple. That I balance you out.
That you can breathe with me. That I carry your load and don't even break a sweat" she paused dramatically, grinning up at her, "which, you know, is true. "
Ericka bit her lip to keep from smiling too much. "Go on."
"And then," Amanda continued, wagging her finger in the air, "they said if we ever came out as a couple, everyone at work would be supportive. Like everyone. And then they dared me."
Ericka guided her through the bar doors into the cool night air, shaking her head. "Dared you to what?"
Amanda smirked proudly, tugging her phone from her pocket with clumsy fingers. "To text you. To ask you out on a date. So I did. And you said yes." She held up the phone like evidence, her screen glowing with Ericka's single word reply.
Ericka couldn't help the soft laugh that slipped out, warm and low. "And then what?"
Amanda leaned into her shoulder as they waited at the curb, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "Then I told them I was gonna get you to marry me. Took a shot to it, too. Whole place cheered."
Ericka finally laughed outright, shaking her head. "You're crazy."
Amanda tilted her head back, eyes half-lidded but sparkling. "And you love me for it."
Ericka exhaled, the fondness in her gaze impossible to hide as the driver pulled the car up to the curb. She opened the back door, helping Amanda inside carefully. "Yeah, baby," she murmured as Amanda settled against her. "I do."
Amanda smiled, eyes fluttering shut as the car pulled away, her head resting against Ericka's shoulder. "Told you. Power couple."
Ericka brushed her lips against Amanda's hair, soft and quiet. "Power couple."