the cheek. Afterward she fixes him with the same cheery smile she’d had when she’d nearly ran me over just a few minutes ago.
“I will call you,” she says. When she finally pulls away and looks to me, the scowl has already made its return. “It was nice meeting you.”
Her words are cold and emotionless and she steps past me without waiting for a response. I pinch my lips together and stare at a spot on the ground until the clacking of her heels on the tile floor fade into the background. Wade spends the same time watching me. If he even glances her direction as she walks away, I don’t catch it.
After she’s gone, he breaks the silence.
“So, how about that drink?” he asks.
The offer is tempting, but all the warning bells inside me are going off, telling me to stay far away from him.
“Are you asking as my boss, or as something else?”
I feel like the clarification is an important one. In fact, it’s probably the smartest thing I’ve said all day, even if I already know the answer. It would be just my luck to think he’s asking me on a date when he’s simply intending to get to know one of his coworkers a little better.
“It’s Friday night,” he says, taking a step closer. “And we’re not in the office. As far as I’m concerned, I’m just a guy hoping a pretty girl will grace him with a little more of her time.”
I turn my head to the side as a huge smile spreads across my face. It would have been impossible to stop it after hearing him say such a sweet thing. But still, it doesn’t remain for long.
“I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to get in the middle of something…”
My meaning is obvious, and to his credit, he doesn’t play dumb. I would know he’s a lying piece of shit if he did.
“You mean Rebecca?” I nod. “There’s nothing there for you to get in the middle of.”
“That’s not the way it looked when she kissed you on the cheek.”
He lets out a little laugh and gives me a reassuring look.
“She’s Parisian, it’s just something she does. It doesn’t have any more meaning than if it were a handshake or a wave goodbye.”
The explanation fits. It sounds reasonable. But there’s still a seed of doubt that lingers inside of me. He must sense the doubt, because he tries to reassure me even more.
“I’m not sure what it is you have waiting at home for you, but it’s Friday night and I’m certain that getting a drink with me will be more fun than whatever you’re so hesitant to return to. There’s no pressure, one drink, and if you’re not having a good time after that you can still be home before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin.”
The Cinderella reference causes me to laugh, again. At first I just think it’s a cute thing to say, but then it turns into something more. Wasn’t I just telling myself earlier to expect my romances to have an expiration date? Isn’t that the exact same thing Cinderella was facing when she went to the ball? Maybe her night would have been even more magical if she’d gotten away in time?
Like he said, it’s just one drink. Two if we’re having fun. And then I can return home, to my boring, comfortable life where Aimee will surely act like I’ve officially lost my mind. And I’ll be okay with it.
“Okay,” I say, bobbing my head in consent. “One drink.”
The smile on Wade’s face stretches from ear to ear.
“Great,” he says. “I know just the place.”
Chapter 13
The Parlor is the name of the room that houses Club Addiction’s VIP lounge and is restricted to only the most elite of club members. It’s a place where they can go to have more quiet and intimate discussions while still being in a public setting. Members will often treat their business clients, or possibly even their mistresses, to some of the most exclusive parts of the hottest club in town. It’s a way of demonstrating their importance, of indulging their narcissism.
The Parlor is a status symbol more than anything else.
“I will call you,” she says. When she finally pulls away and looks to me, the scowl has already made its return. “It was nice meeting you.”
Her words are cold and emotionless and she steps past me without waiting for a response. I pinch my lips together and stare at a spot on the ground until the clacking of her heels on the tile floor fade into the background. Wade spends the same time watching me. If he even glances her direction as she walks away, I don’t catch it.
After she’s gone, he breaks the silence.
“So, how about that drink?” he asks.
The offer is tempting, but all the warning bells inside me are going off, telling me to stay far away from him.
“Are you asking as my boss, or as something else?”
I feel like the clarification is an important one. In fact, it’s probably the smartest thing I’ve said all day, even if I already know the answer. It would be just my luck to think he’s asking me on a date when he’s simply intending to get to know one of his coworkers a little better.
“It’s Friday night,” he says, taking a step closer. “And we’re not in the office. As far as I’m concerned, I’m just a guy hoping a pretty girl will grace him with a little more of her time.”
I turn my head to the side as a huge smile spreads across my face. It would have been impossible to stop it after hearing him say such a sweet thing. But still, it doesn’t remain for long.
“I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to get in the middle of something…”
My meaning is obvious, and to his credit, he doesn’t play dumb. I would know he’s a lying piece of shit if he did.
“You mean Rebecca?” I nod. “There’s nothing there for you to get in the middle of.”
“That’s not the way it looked when she kissed you on the cheek.”
He lets out a little laugh and gives me a reassuring look.
“She’s Parisian, it’s just something she does. It doesn’t have any more meaning than if it were a handshake or a wave goodbye.”
The explanation fits. It sounds reasonable. But there’s still a seed of doubt that lingers inside of me. He must sense the doubt, because he tries to reassure me even more.
“I’m not sure what it is you have waiting at home for you, but it’s Friday night and I’m certain that getting a drink with me will be more fun than whatever you’re so hesitant to return to. There’s no pressure, one drink, and if you’re not having a good time after that you can still be home before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin.”
The Cinderella reference causes me to laugh, again. At first I just think it’s a cute thing to say, but then it turns into something more. Wasn’t I just telling myself earlier to expect my romances to have an expiration date? Isn’t that the exact same thing Cinderella was facing when she went to the ball? Maybe her night would have been even more magical if she’d gotten away in time?
Like he said, it’s just one drink. Two if we’re having fun. And then I can return home, to my boring, comfortable life where Aimee will surely act like I’ve officially lost my mind. And I’ll be okay with it.
“Okay,” I say, bobbing my head in consent. “One drink.”
The smile on Wade’s face stretches from ear to ear.
“Great,” he says. “I know just the place.”
Chapter 13
The Parlor is the name of the room that houses Club Addiction’s VIP lounge and is restricted to only the most elite of club members. It’s a place where they can go to have more quiet and intimate discussions while still being in a public setting. Members will often treat their business clients, or possibly even their mistresses, to some of the most exclusive parts of the hottest club in town. It’s a way of demonstrating their importance, of indulging their narcissism.
The Parlor is a status symbol more than anything else.
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