2. Bryan
2
brYAN
N ed was talking, but I had to admit, I stopped listening to him long before that woman walked in. When she stepped into the bar, I couldn’t have heard a thing Ned said if I had wanted to. My brain went stupid at the sway of her hips. She moved like a woman who knew how to please a man. She had just enough boom, boom, boom in the sway of her hips that made me think if I were fifteen years younger, maybe I would have had a chance with her.
“Christmas is a couple of days away, and you’re acting as if you aren’t aware of that.”
Ned’s words came back to me as if my ears turned back on the second that woman was out of my line of sight.
“What were you saying?” I asked.
“Christmas is coming up and you’re acting as if we’re going to get quality work out of people.”
“What is that supposed to even mean? Yes, I expect people to work, even though it’s the holidays.”
“But you and I both know that even if somebody is in the office, they barely get anything done.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to say. I quickly tried to remember anything he had said moments earlier. But all that was stuck in my head was the side to side sway of that woman’s walk and the way her golden hair reflected light.
“Look,” I started.
I needed to do two things in quick succession. One, wrap up this meeting that was going nowhere. And two, get rid of Ned, because that stunning creature had eased herself onto a seat at the bar. She moved like a slow, sticky liquid, and I wanted to get her all over my fingers.
“Complaining about work ethics during the holidays seems a little counterproductive,” I finally said. “What we need to do, instead of bitching about the way we want it to be, is we should modify our deadlines and our expectations to how we know it will be. Imagine how much happier everyone involved would be if we didn’t dump massive deadlines for the day before Christmas or the day before New Year’s Eve? The financial group has already been working their asses off trying to get year-end figures wrapped up. Come December thirty-first, all they have to do is drop a few figures into a couple of places in a spreadsheet, and everything just goes bing, bing, bing , and all the numbers populate the way they’re supposed to.”
Ned nodded as I spoke, which led me to believe that I was being coherent. While I was talking about spreadsheets, I wasn’t thinking about rows and columns of numbers and figures. Well, I was thinking about figures. One figure, hourglass, breasts, waist, curves, hips, legs, spread out on display across a crisp white sheet.
It had been entirely too long since I’d had a proper date. That woman on the other side of the room was sending out signals to me that I was probably making up in my head, but damn if she didn’t look good, and damn if I didn’t want Ned to leave already so I could go shoot my shot with this woman.
“Yeah, I see what you’re saying. If we can take the time off to enjoy the holidays, we should make it so that our teams and employees can do the same. Why should we expect more from them when we aren’t willing to lead by example?”
I held my hands out to him, as if giving him the moment. “Exactly,” I said.
“This has been a good conversation,” Ned said as he slapped the table.
“Agreed, agreed,” I said. I didn’t agree. I couldn’t even remember half of anything we said.
Ever since that woman walked in the room, that was where my focus was and was going to stay until I got a chance to speak with her, buy her a drink.
“Are you staying around in town for the holidays?” Ned asked. He leaned back and crossed his hands over his belly. Not that there was much belly there. He seemed to have pushed it out to give himself something to rest against. He liked to pretend that he was a man firmly lodged in middle age. He had a family. He had kids. And at the moment, he pretended to have some kind of paunch that really wasn’t there. He was barely older than I was.
He seemed to enjoy acting as if he were much older, especially when it came to giving me business advice. As if I hadn’t been running my own company since my father handed his business over to me on my twenty-first birthday.
“No plans this year,” I admitted. “My mother’s decided to stay in town, which means command performances for myself and the kid. You?”
“Wife wanted to go skiing. But then Kayla, she’s the youngest, fell at the ice rink and broke her ankle last week. Had to have surgery, twenty-two pins and two screws. We aren’t going anywhere for a while.”
“Oh, that’s tough,” I said.
“Yeah, we’re staying around. Have to make sure the kid is cared for. Between her pain medication and her incessant need for snacks, I’m constantly running errands. The wife wants me to come up with things we can do around here. Have you ever been to any of the local Christmas festivals or gone to see Santa Claus at the mall?”
I shook my head. “I let my mom handle Christmas. We do what she decides we should do.”
At that point, Ned’s phone buzzed. He picked it up and looked at the screen before chuckling to himself.
“She wants ice cream now. Apparently, we don’t have any.”
“I guess that means you’re stopping to get some ice cream on your way home,” I said.
“Hate to cut it short, but we got to take care of the kids, right?”
He needed to leave already. I should send that kid a box of cookies with her well-timed demand for ice cream.
I waved him off as he reached for the bill. “Head on out. I’ll take care of it. I’m going to finish up this drink.” I pointed to the last half-inch of beer in my glass.
I pretended to sip it as I watched him leave, only to have my gaze diverted back to the beauty perched at the bar. Our gazes locked, and I swear a flush tinged her cheeks. That could have also been the neon signs hanging over the bar.
She quickly looked away but then shot me another quick glance. I saw that smile on her face.
It wasn’t exactly an invitation, but she knew I had seen her. I grabbed the tab and stalked my way to the bar. I had my prey in sight, and I prayed that she would not get away.
I slid the dinner bill with my credit card across the bar to the bartender.
As he reached out to take it, I said, “The lady’s drink is on me.”
She turned to blink luminous blue eyes at me. “Thank you.”
“I would have offered to buy you a drink, but you already have one, and I don’t want to make assumptions that you’ll be having another one.”
She looked thoughtfully at the glass in her hand, wiggling it ever so slightly. Ice rattled around as she mixed the contents of her drink.
“It’s pretty, and it’s sweet. I also know it packs a serious punch. I appreciate your concern over my drinking habits.”
“That sounds like you will not be having a second one,” I said.
“If I were drinking alone, I would stop with this one, but…”
“I’m here.” I leaned against the bar.
“So, if you were to order something too, I wouldn’t be drinking alone,” she said.
“I like the way you think,” I said.
As the bartender returned with the credit card receipt for me to sign, I handed the credit card back. “Give us a second round of whatever the lady is drinking.”
“You want one too?”
I nodded. Sweet and fruity weren’t my typical drink of choice, but she looked like she was enjoying the cocktail.
“Sure thing,” he said as he accepted the credit card back to pay for the drinks.
“Not to sound like a cliché,” I started, “But…”
“What’s a girl like me doing in a place like this?” she responded tartly.
“I guess you could say that,” I said. She inspired corny pick-up lines. She deserved suave confidence. Unfortunately, around her, my ability to be smooth got twisted up in the drool pooling in my mouth. She was so damned sexy. And the dark velvet dress she wore teased with glimpses of cleavage that promised to make the tightening in my pants turn into a full erection.
“That’s why I said it. Too predictable. What were you going to say?” she asked.
“I was going to ask something equally contrite. Haven’t seen you around here before?”
“No, you have not.”
“Will I be seeing you around here again?”
She lifted one perfectly arched eyebrow and puckered her beautiful lips. “That all depends.”
“Depends, huh? Will you give me your number?”
She scoffed. “Why? So you can pretend you really aren’t interested in a day or two, and I’ll be sitting all alone wondering if you’re ever going to call? I didn’t think that was the game we were playing. You’re supposed to ask if I’m waiting on anyone or if anyone is waiting at home for me.”
I leaned in a little closer than necessary. She did not ease away or flinch at my proximity.
“Since you’re prompting me with conversation cues, I’ll bite. What brings you into the bar tonight? Waiting for your dinner date?”
She laughed. It was a magical sound. Did I still have condoms in my wallet?
“I needed a stiff drink after the company Christmas dinner,” she admitted.
“That bad? Will you be safe to drive after these?”
“So much worse, and I’m not driving. I’ll call an Uber.”
“What time are you expected home?”
She shrugged. “Whenever I get there. No one is going to care or notice unless I don’t show up for work on Monday morning.”