“Yeah, man. Of course.”
“Is it weird that the trip was kinda fun?”
Alec smiled. “No. Not weird. Unusual, maybe. But I had a good time too. For a pitch trip, that is. We work well together.”
“We do, right? I thought so, too.”
Alec smiled again as an unshared thought played on his face. “I told you I wasn’t thrilled when I heard I’d be taking on a Jr. Rep. But, yeah, this has been working out pretty good… so far. Just don’t fuck it up.” He laughed.
I smiled and said, “I’ll try not to.”
???
I’ve always been a huge fan of happy hour. It was my time to shine. I like to drink, but it wasn’t that. I’m a big dude and can hold my booze, but I was never into the whole shots on shots on shots scene. Nope, I prefer a stiff glass of bourbon, neat, and I’m good to go.
I enjoy being the life of the party, and everyone’s best friend. I love the attention. Happy hour with the FinCrest sales and marketing crew was no different. The department is pretty big, so each happy hour is different. There’s always someone to meet, schmooze, and turn into a friend—after the prerequisite rituals.
Once everyone arrives, we share a toast, typically made by Alec, or Lisa if she felt feisty that week. They’d give kudos to who deserved it from the week prior, or have the honored person speak on their own behalf. After forty-five minutes of mingling, the group disbands, only to return in smaller groups throughout the night.
That night, after the rituals and discussion of the wager, I broke away to get myself a drink. I was deciding if I’d stay or go out on my own, when this guy started talking to me.
“Hard week?”
I looked over at him, confused at first, until he glanced down at the glass of straight whiskey the bartender had just poured me.
I smiled and laughed. “Nah, man. This place has a good selection, and I try to take advantage when I’m here.”
“Ah, you’re a connoisseur. Or a raging alcoholic.”
I laughed. “Let’s go with connoisseur. I’m with my coworkers.”
“Ballsy to order hard stuff when the boss is watching.”
I laughed again. “My boss can’t see me, but if he could, he’d give me shit for only getting one finger.”
The guy cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Lucky.” He chuckled. “Mine forces us to go out, then makes snide comments if anyone orders more than two beers. On our own tabs.”
It wasn’t funny, but I laughed anyway. His eyes tracked me, and his laughter built with mine.
“Don’t know what you do, but my job’s pretty chill.”
Still laughing, he asked, “What do you do?”
“Sales,” I said with a big smile, matching his. “You?”
“Integrated Human Resources.”
“Sounds fun.”
“So much fun.” He laughed again. “The most fun.”
We smiled at each other until our faces changed. “Mason, nice to meet you, man,” I said, holding out my hand. And his gaze.
“Ernesto. Likewise.”
I had gotten a vibe, but his smile left no question. He was hitting on me, and I let him watch me scan him up and down. Around my age, in decent shape, but with an ass for days. He wasshorter than me, and handsome once I let myself really look at him. But overall, too masculine. He looked like a dude. Not the skinny little twinks I fantasized about.
That didn’t stop me from flirting back. I leaned my elbow on the bar. “What isIntegrated Human Resources?”
