I really didn’t want to break the seal and be peeing all night, but I had no choice. Once I was done, I snuck a peek back at the bar before I walked back to my table. No sign of Lucas Blaine. My eyes did a quick sweep of the rest of the room and found him in a worse place than at the bar.
He was standing next to the table I had vacated a few moments ago, smiling and clearly flirting with all of my friends.
They were all smiling and laughing at some joke he’d probably made and it was all I could do not to grab a pitcher of beer from the next table and pour it on his head. He probably would have loved that.
“There you are! I thought you’d fallen in,” Marisol said when I finally made my way back to the table. I had no choice.
Lucas’ eyes swept up and down my body, as if he’d just seen me for the first time instead of staring at me for hours.
“Nope,” I said and moved to get back in my chair, which Lucas just happened to be standing next to. I went to pull the chair out, but he did it for me.
“Need a boost?” He was making fun of me, the jerk.
“No, I’m fine,” I said as I used the bar attached to the legs of the stool to vault myself into it. Doing so was none too graceful, but I had short legs and I was not accepting help from him.
“So Lucas was just telling us all the reasons you should hire him. I swear, if you don’t want him, I could use an assistant,” Sloane said, looking at Lucas like she was going to lick him up and down. I gave her a death glare that he couldn’t see, standing on my other side, and she kicked me under the table.
“You have an assistant,” I said, because it was true. She had plenty of college students that would work for nothing just for the chance at making it in the fashion world.
“Mmm, but my assistants are usually female or gay and don’t look like him.” Lucas seemed to be swelling with the praise.
“My God, if you make his head any bigger he’s going to fall over, and that wouldn’t be very attractive,” I said.
“The only praise that would make my head swell would come from you, Miss Clarke,” he whispered so low my friends couldn’t hear it. Ugh, I hated how he called me “Miss Clarke” outside of the office. What was this, 1953?
“Secrets don’t make friends,” Sloane said, leaning in, as if he was going to share what he told me with her.
He did lean over to her and whisper something, but I didn’t think it was what he told me, because she gave him a look and then started laughing.
“You’re right,” she said, nodding.
What? What was he right about? Oh, this man was infuriating.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he said after I kicked Sloane under the table. She was going to be spilling her guts later when we got home.
“You already did that,” I said, my voice flat. Even Chloe had dragged herself out of her breakup misery to watch my interaction with Lucas. We must be entertaining.
“I could buy you another. Just say the word.”
“Actually,” I said, turning toward him, “I’m a little tired, so I think I’m going to go home. Sloane, why don’t you come with me?” I grabbed her arm, forcing her to get off the chair and pulling her through the crowd.
“Hey, it was just getting good,” she whined and pulled back against me. Where strength was concerned, Sloane would win, but I could always take her out at the kneecaps.
“Please? Can we go?” She shook her head and dug her heels in.
“I will go after you let him buy you a drink.”
“He already bought me one.”
“Let him buy you another. It’s not going to kill you.”
Oh, Jesus Christ, Mary and Joseph. I was going to murder her.
“One. Drink.” She beamed and dragged me back to the table where Lucas was wearing a similar grin. I wanted to slap it right off his face.
Five
Sometimes, you say you’re going to have one drink and you have one drink. Go home and wake up refreshed and hangover-free.