Chapter 4
Nicholas
Later that evening all the managers converged in the hotel’s banquet hall for the after event social. Boring. Another piss-poor job by the planning committee.
Lisa is in the middle of a conversation with four executives, discussing the projected gross profit for the second quarter when she excuses herself and steps outside to take a call. Perfect, I have been waiting for over an hour for this opportunity, passing the time by chatting with geeks.
On re-entering, she is heading in the direction of the executives to continue the gross profit conversation, when I stop her in her tracks. “I can’t believe you’re drinking Chilean wine in Jamaica.”
“You’re right, this is unacceptable. I should be fined.” Her tone matches mine and with just the right amount of sass.
Taking a drink off the tray the waiter had elevated in the air, I offer it to her, “Here’s a glass of rum.
” The waiter, Stephen, on cue, takes the glass of wine from her.
Stephen wasn’t standing there by chance.
When I had reached the event, I had showed him Lisa and then, giving him a J$5,000.
00 tip told him to follow my lead. After I had tipped him, he said, “Mi boss … she sexy.” His opinion was unsolicited, but I have to admit, I loved his choice of word — sexy.
Whenever the guys at work describe her, it’s always pretty, gorgeous or beautiful.
The women express a similar sentiment, and also tend to include some commentary on her wardrobe.
Apparently, she’s a fashion icon, whatever women mean by that.
And if you go by the comments made by Instagrammers, stunning is another word you can add to the pool.
Speaking of pool, I wonder how she looks in a bikini. Or even better, without one.
“Who told you that I like rum?” She smiles, eyebrow raised.
“I’m an expert on reading people and situations… Mrs Davis.” I reply boldly with a wink and a semi-flirtatious smile. I’m still wondering how she would look in a bikini. And without one.
“Duly noted Sir.”
“In fact, I chose an everyday rum instead of the premium nonsense you’re used to,” I brag, pointing to three expensive bottles of rum on display. “Hope you like my selection.”
“We’ll see,” she smiles. Her smile even more enticing than before.
“You should finish your net profit conversation with my distinguished colleagues.”
“If you must know… we were actually discussing gross profit,” came her rejoinder.
“To gross profit increasing 25% year-over-year and to jerk chicken and festival,” I say, raising my glass. Clinking glasses, we both say “Cheers.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Lisa. I’m going to meet up with some friends now. I’ll see you at the luncheon tomorrow.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
“I’m Nicholas Thomas, in case you’re curious. You never know when a name may come in handy,” I nod, while holding her gaze. I walk towards the exit, smoothly drinking the last of my scotch and place my glass on the nearest bistro table. I can almost feel her eyes following me.