“Barely. If you hadn’t caught that discrepancy in the liability cap, we would have been sunk.”
The conversation continues, but I can’t concentrate. Every few minutes, I steal another glance toward the bar. Menlow is still there, keeping to himself, not drawing attention. He orders another drink, checks his phone, and watches the baseball game playing on the TV above the bar. If I didn’t knowbetter, I’d think he was just another patron enjoying a quiet drink.
But I do know better.
He came here for me. Not to interrupt or hover or drag me home. Just to be here. To make sure I’m safe without making a scene about it.
Something warm unfurls in my chest.
“Oh my God,” breathes Tanya from marketing, who’s seated across from me. She’s leaning past Dennis to get a better view of the bar, her cocktail forgotten in her hand. “Is that Mr. Karpov?”
I wince and follow her gaze. She’s staring right at Menlow.
“Where?” Priya cranes her neck.
“At the bar. Black shirt, sleeves rolled up.” Tanya fans herself dramatically. “God, he looks even better out of a suit. I didn’t think that was possible.”
My stomach drops. I take a long sip of champagne and say nothing.
Tanya smooths down her hair as she asks, “Do you think he’s here alone? Maybe I should go say hello. Thank him for support on the Shyman deal or something.”
“He’s our boss,” Priya points out. “Maybe don’t throw yourself at him in a bar?”
“I’m not throwing myself at him. I’m making myself available for conversation.” Tanya takes a long sip of her martini, her eyes never leaving Menlow. “I would climb that man like a tree. Look at those arms. And that jawline. European men are just built differently, I swear.”
“Maybe we should—”
“I bet he’s amazing in bed,” she interrupts, completely oblivious to my discomfort. “Men who look like that always are. It’s like a natural law or something. The hotter they are, the better they are in the bedroom.”
“Tanya, he’s literally our CEO—”
“So? I’m not saying I’d do anything about it. I’m just appreciating the view.” She laughs, and the sound is high and giddy from too many martinis. “God, what I wouldn’t give for one night with someone like that. Just one night. I’d let him do absolutely anything he wanted. Anything.”
My champagne glass hits the table harder than I intended as I set it down. “Can we not?”
Tanya blinks at me. “What?”
“Can we not objectify him? It’s weird.”
“I’m just saying he’s hot. It’s not like he can hear me.”
I can feel the others at the table turning to look at me, but I can’t stop myself. “It doesn’t matter if he can hear you or not. He’s not just a piece of meat for you to drool over.”
“Whoa. Calm down.”
“I am calm.” I’m not calm. My cheeks are burning hot, my heart is pounding, and I have no idea why I’m reacting this way. Except I do know. I know exactly why. “I just think it’s disrespectful to sit here talking about what you’d do to him when he’s done nothing but treat this company well.”
“It’s just girl talk, Kirsten. Harmless fun. Lighten up.”
“It’s not just girl talk. You’re talking about a real person. A real human being with thoughts and feelings and a life that has nothing to do with how he looks in a fitted shirt. He’s someonewho built an empire and still treats his employees with respect and actually cares about their well-being. Someone who takes care of his family and protects the people he loves and—”
“Someone who what?” Derek asks, looking between Tanya and me with obvious confusion.
I stop myself. God, what am I doing? I sound like a crazy person defending our boss’s honor. My voice has risen loud enough that people at the next table are glancing over.
“I just don’t like it,” I finish lamely. “The whole… objectification thing. It’s not right. Especially not about someone we work for.”
Tanya holds up her hands in surrender. “Fine. Message received. I’ll keep my thirsty thoughts to myself. Jesus.”
