I fix the strap on my left heel and grab my earrings from my vanity and attempt to put them on while I rush to the door. I tried to be ready on time, really, but my hair didn’t want to cooperate, and it took me so much longer to curl and pull back into a semi-elegant updo than it should’ve. Then I had second-guessed my dress. Did it show too much skin? Not enough? Should I bring a jacket or would a cardigan be enough? Everything just kind of fell apart.
I’m just about to explain this to Alex when I pull open the door, but the sight of her makes all my excuses get caught in my throat. She leans against the door frame with her hands tucked casually in her front pockets. Her hair is brushed over one shoulder, and she sports a little bit of makeup, just enough to make her dark eyes pop. But it’s her form-fitted black suit that really does it for me. Because holy fucking suspenders.
She smirks at my gawking. “Fancy enough?”
“Wow,” I say, unable to string together any form of coherent thought other than that singular syllable.
Her smug expression slips at the same time her gaze drops. “Wow is right,” she says breathlessly. I glance at my tight red dress, the one with the slit up the leg and tasteful but moderate neckline. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”
Satisfied that all my freaking out was justified, I adjust her collar, even though it doesn’t need adjusting at all. “This suit is nice.”
She watches me while I slowly run my hands along her shoulders and pretend to tuck the back of her tie underneath her collar. “I thought about a little black dress, but it’s cold outside, and this is way more comfortable.”
As much as I’d love to see said little black dress, what she decided on is perfect. I gently scratch the back of her neck, debating whether to voice my thought, when my phone buzzes, indicating our ride has arrived. “Our car is here,” I tell her and spin so my back is facing her. “Zip me up?”
She takes a step toward me, clearly in no rush, and pushes the small batch of hair that dangles low from my clip off the back of my neck. Slowly, she pulls up the zipper and takes another step closer, placing her hands on my waist.
“You are stunning.” Her breath is warm against my skin, and I tilt my head, a silent invitation.
One she doesn’t take.
She takes a step back, and when I turn to face her, she smiles. “Those heels make your legs look great.”
We check our coats and step into a large room decorated with silver accents and white twinkling lights. It looks like a winter wonderland. Alex offers me her arm, and I motion to the open bar to our left.
“Isn’t this familiar?” she asks. “Fancy party. Plenty of drinks. Hotel rooms.”
Her suggestive tone makes my cheeks feel warm, and I elbow her in the ribs. “Behave.”
She leans in close andtsksin my ear. “With you looking like that? I’ll do my best.”
We find a space at the bar, and Alex orders two white wines while I sit on one of the barstools and cross my legs. That’s been happening a lot lately, the flirting. It’s been ramping up, and I know it’s only a matter of time before one of us caves and does something about it.
She hands me my glass and leans casually against the bar. I catch a whiff of her familiar burgamot scent, and it sends my sense into overdrive. “See anyone you know?” she wonders, scanning the decent-sized crowd.
“Plenty, but no one I’m dying to talk to,” I admit. Most of the coworkers who I consider friends either aren’t here yet or are out of sight. “Thank you for agreeing to this. I know you’d rather be doing pretty much anything else.”
“That’s not true. Besides,” she says with a lopsided smile, “who doesn’t love a good holiday party?”
“Me,” I say through a chuckle.
Then I hear her. A laugh that resembles a metal fork scraping along a porcelain plate. It makes me cringe. “Oh no.” I chug the last bit of wine and grab Alex’s to finish hers as well.
“Whoa. What has you so on edge? Is it your boss?”
I stare as a blond head of hair moves past the bar and in the direction of the CFO. I instantly relax. “I don’t think she saw us.”
Alex perks up, clearly excited at the prospect of a little drama. “Who?”
“Suebelle,” I say without taking my eyes off her. She isnotsomeone I want to mingle with tonight.
“Suebelle? Is that, like, one word?”
Our CFO is intercepted by a client, and Suebelle, knowing she’s been politely dismissed, starts to move again. Probably trying to find her next victim. Her wandering takes her closer to the bar, and I quickly try to find somewhere for us to hide. I grab the front of Alex’s jacket and lead her to an empty corner, hidden by a large, tinsel covered beam.
“Why are we hiding from Suebelle?” Alex whispers.
I sigh, knowing I probably overreacted. “She’s just a lot. And she’s a little bit obsessed with you.”
