Company Ink by E.L. Lewis

n i n e

It's Friday afternoon and I'm glaring at the digital clock on my computer. Five more minutes and then I can go home. Why are the last few minutes of work always the longest? I swear between 4:30 pm and 5 pm, employees around the globe are sucked into some demented time warp, where seconds become minutes and minutes become the slowest, most torturous hours.

I don't even know why I'm itching to get home, it's not like Monique will be there. It's her birthday today, and we were supposed to go to Mamba for dancing and drinks but Matt, her boyfriend, planned a surprise dinner for her, which she didn't know about until this morning. Mamba will have to wait until tomorrow night.

I can't just sit at home like some shut-in, on a Friday night. There must be something exciting happening in the city. I text Kai and Axel to see if they want to go out. Kai replies first saying that they're having a date night. I message three other friends and they all have plans with their significant others. What is going on? Did cupid set up shop in Seattle? Am I the last single person in town?

I groan, flinging my head towards Kitty's desk. Maybe she's free. "Hey, Kit," I say, rolling my chair towards her. "You got plans tonight? Did you want to grab a drink?"

Kitty scrunches her dolled up face into a pout. "Awe, I would, but it's my parents' 30th anniversary dinner tonight."

I fake a smile. "Oh, that's fine." I throw an eraser at David. "How about you, Castleberg? Plans?"

David picks up the pink eraser that ricocheted off of his shoulder from the floor, and chucks it back at me, a little aggressively might I add. "I'm taking my girlfriend to the opera tonight. We're seeing La bohème."

"The opera?" I muse. "Aren't you a little young for that?"

"The arts know no age, Cassandra," David huffs.

"Alrighty then." I shoot Kitty an 'omg' side-eye. "You have fun with that."

I pull out my phone and tap mindlessly through Instagram stories to pass the time. I roll my eyes when I pass a third video that starts with "Hi guys, I just wanted to pop on here real-quick." Where is the originality with these influencers? I go on an unfollowing spree. Instagram has become a giant commercial. If I see one more post about customizable shampoos or fit teas, I'm going to lose it.

"Cassie, what're you still doing here?"

I look up to find Adrian standing above me. "What?"

"It's 5:20," he informs me with a grin.

Oh shit. I check the time and he's correct. This is precisely why I don't have Tik Tok; I'd waste hours of my day scrolling.

"I must have lost track of time." I drape my cardigan over my shoulders and stand up. I glance up at Adrian and do a double take "Why do you look so happy right now?"

"I just got off the phone with Alfred Chan. He's decided to hire us as their attorneys," he beams.

"No way! That's fantastic!" I exclaim. "Was there ever any doubt?"

Adrian grins. "Expect the worst. Hope for the best."

"What a pessimistic motto," I laugh. "Well, congratulations anyhow. It's a big account. I'm sure Mr. Pearson is stoked. Are you going to celebrate your victory?"

"Yes, I was planning on getting myself a beer across the street."

"Alone?" I ask hesitantly. The energy between us the past two days has been weird. Not exactly awkward or cold, but just...odd. Even though his comment in the car irked me, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't drawn to him, curious about him.

"Yes," he states firmly.

"Hmm..." I meet his deceptively warm eyes and tilt my head. "Interesting."

Ask me out. Ask me out. Ask me out.

I'm willing it into existence.

"Did you—" Adrian begins slowly and I eagerly lean in closer, inadvertently nodding my head. "Want to—" I blink. Spit it out, Cavallero! "Join me?"

"Mmm...I don't know," I shrug, snapping my body upright. "I'm supposed to meet up with a couple of my friends soon." I fake check the time on my watch. As if I'm going to look like I don't have weekend plans. "But I guess I can spare a few minutes."

"Great." Adrian motions down the hallway. "After you."

Thankfully, the elevator is empty this time around so Adrian and I can stand at a proper distance apart, avoiding another unfortunate grazing incident. We cross the street to Havan, a relatively upscale bar and lounge.

We bypass the line that's already forming down the block, and sit down at the bar, in front of the floor to ceiling shelves stocked full of unopened bottles of alcohol. Scattered among the sleek, and glossy bottles, are black and white photographs of Golden Age Hollywood actors and musicians; dim recessed lights illuminate the seating area in soft yellow hues.

Adrian briefly scans the drink menu before the bartender comes to take our order. "What're we having today?" The handsome bartender asks, shifting his forest green eyes between Adrian and me. "It's HappyHour for another thirty minutes." Pointing to a cocktail on the menu, he winks at me while saying, "TheClimax is on special all night."

"Really?" I sing, oddly impressed by his straightforwardness. I can play along. "It's been a hot minute since I've had a Climax. I remember them being very sweet."

The bartender props himself on his forearms. "Oh, they're delicious. The way I make them? People always come back for more."

"For some reason I don't doubt it," I laugh. This guy is a riot.

Adrian clears his throat, drawing our attention. "We need another minute," he states sharply, shooting daggers at Chris Hemsworth's long-lost twin. Bartender-man raises his hands in surrender and turns to help another patron.

Was that jealousy I just saw? Hmm. Interesting.

"Not a fan of TheClimax?" I ask coyly, meeting Adrian's curiously opaque eyes. "Is it the—" I look down at the menu. "Amaretto, crème de cacao, or crème de banane that elicits such a strongreaction?"

"All of the above," Adrian says without missing a beat, trying to brush off his curt interjection as nothing but a simple comment. "I don't like sugary drinks." His lips twist up in amusement. "But I'd be more than happy to buy one for you."

"Are you offering me a Climax?" I grip my chest, feigning shock. "Mr. Cavallero, how inappropriate!" I hold my stupefied expression for a few seconds as Adrian's body tenses and his pupils dilate. He is way too fun to mess with. A vein protrudes from Adrian's forehead which causes me to break down into a fit of giggles. Okay, he's suffered enough.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm done! Relax," I laugh, holding up my hands in defeat. "Please!"

Adrian takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, steadying himself. "What do you actually want to drink?"

"Cosmo. Always a Cosmo."

"Really? You're not going to order the bartender's favorite?" he asks jokingly, his expression light. Damn, does he have an internal mood switch or something?

"No, I only do that with food not drinks."

"Why not both?" Adrian asks, hailing the bartender back and ordering a Cosmo and a bottle of Estrella.

"Because I've tried a lot of drinks in my life, but I haven't tried every single cuisine," I explain. "Plus, after years of drinking, I've learned that only vodka is my friend."

Adrian laughs. "You only drink vodka? Not even wine? Or beer?"

"I only drink wine at home," I admit with a sigh. Or if it’s free. "It makes my face turn red almost instantaneously."

"That's probably because you drink cheap American wine. Spanish wine wouldn't do that; our vineyards are far superior."

"Not true," I sing, waving my index finger. "I've been to Spain and let me tell you." I motion to my face. "Red for days."

Adrian's eyebrows perk up. "You've been to Spain? Really? Where did you go?"

"All over. Obviously, I went to Madrid and Barcelona, but I prefer small towns. Less tourists and you get a better feel for the culture."

Adrian hums, his eyes full of wonder. "What was your favorite town?"

"Uh—" I bite my lip. So many to choose from. "Probably Setenil de las Bodegas." Adrian throws his head back and laughs. "What?" I whine.

"Your pronunciation was um—" Adrian playfully cringes. "Not the best."

"I thought it was okay!" I cross my arms. "My roommate told me I have excellent pronunciation."

"Your roommate was just being kind," Adrian grins. "Repeat after me—Setenil."

"Really? We're doing this?"

Adrian shifts his seat closer to me, our knees only a millimeter apart. "Watch my mouth carefully," he says.

Is he fucking kidding me right now?

"Setenil... de las... Bodegas." The words roll off his tongue, so velvety and smooth, like dense, dark, and melted chocolate. My eyes stay affixed on his full lips as he repeats the name over and over again, every syllable drawing me closer, like a helpless honeybee to a full succulent flower, until I realize I'm dangerously close to his tempting lips.

"Your turn," he whispers, and my eyes flicker up to his blazing irises.

"Setenil de las Bodegas," I mutter, my voice is breathy and uneven. My body shifts closer to his, our knees and thighs touching, my heart fluttering out of my chest with desire and anticipation. "How was that?"

"Better," Adrian murmurs, his warm palm hovering over my exposed thigh, emitting titillating heat that stirs something deep inside of my abdomen.

Touch me. I scream with my eyes. What're you waiting for?

A startling thump on the bar forces us to turn our heads. "Your beer," the bartender says with an edge to his voice like he knew he was disrupting a moment. "Enjoy."

I shake my head in an attempt to gather my wit. I've never wanted to punch someone as much as I do this damn bartender. He totally just cock-blocked me! Or maybe he was trying to cock-block Adrian... Either way, I am peeved!

Adrian shuffles in his seat, purposely creating distance between us once again. He holds up his red bottle of beer. "To us and the BluTech account."

I begrudgingly cheers with him and take a sip of my cranberry vodka goodness. What is his deal? One minute he's hot the next he's cold. He flirts and then he's back to his old professional self. Oh God, he's a Katy Perry song.

"So," Adrian begins. "Other than Spain, where else have you been?"

"Mmm... Thailand, Indonesia, Italy, Portugal, France, Mexico, and uh—Peru. Plus a few States here and there."

Adrian blinks, flabbergasted… "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-four."

"You're quite the adventurer," he notes, taking a sip of beer. "Were you always interested in travel?"

"Not until three years ago," I sigh, thinking about Ness and all the trips we had planned. "Something happened and I—I just figured, why put off until tomorrow what I could do today." Adrian looks like he's going to ask a follow up question, which I'm not keen on answering so I interject and ask, "How about you? Travel often?"

"When time permits, yes. I actually just recently went to Peru myself."

My eyes light up. "Really? Did you hike Machu Picchu?" I ask eagerly.

"Of course, it was the reason I went."

"Me too!"

For the next whoever knows how long, Adrian and I talk about Peru and how ill-prepared we both were for the trek up the Inca archaeological ruin. It turns out we both used the same tour company for the excursion and even had the same guide, Hector Garcia. This man was like a drill sergeant. Water breaks, snack breaks, and everything in between was timed to the second.

"I think Hector is a very admirable man," Adrian argues, tapping his credit card on the table. "Plus, I'm sure if he wasn't diligent about timekeeping, you wouldn't have made it all the way to the end. I may be older than you, Cassie, but I know how many selfies women your age take."

Raise your hand if you've been personally victimized by Adrian Cavallero.

"That's not true!" I lie through my teeth. "I barely took any photos." I'm hoping he doesn't ask to see my camera roll.

Adrian hands his Visa card to the bartender. "You're a horrible liar," he laughs.

"Or maybe I'm such a good liar, that you think I'm a bad liar, and thus end up believing my original lies," I retort, smiling smugly.

Adrian cocks his head to the side, stifling an incredulous laugh. "What?"

My eyes shift to my three empty martini glasses. "It made sense in my head," I admit slowly, checking the time. "Holy cow, it's already 8 pm?"

"I'm sorry for keeping you so long," Adrian says, catching my surprised expression. "I hope your friends aren't going to be upset."

"My what?" I ask and then immediately remember I told him I had plans. Shit. "Right! My friends, yes. No, no. They'll be fine. They're very...understanding." And completely made the fuck up.

Adrian grabs the receipt off of the checkbook and pockets it. "I had a nice time with you, Cassie," he says, leading us out of the bar.

"You sound surprised," I comment, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

Adrian shrugs noncommittally. "Stimulating conversations are hard to come by these days."

"Stimulating?" I laugh. "It's not like we were discussing the political landscape of the Ottoman Empire."

"And what do you know about the Ottoman Empire?" Adrian asks, perking up one eyebrow.

I press my lips into a thin line, thinking I'm so fucking clever. "That it was smaller than the Loveseat Empire?"

Adrian expels a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous."

I playfully swat Adrian's shoulder. "Oh, come on! That was punny!"

"You know that they say puns are the lowest form of humor," Adrian, muses, the streetlight reflecting off his softened features.

"Actually, the quote goes 'A pun is the lowest form of humor when you don't think of it first'. So..." I shrug. "Sucks to be you."

Adrian covers his face with his hand. "You are...something else."

"So, I've been told," I grin, checking my phone. I have a missed call from Lucy. "Listen I gotta go and uh—meet up with my friends."

Disappointment briefly flashes across Adrian's face. "Are you taking a cab?"

I wish. "No, I'll just walk. I don't live very far. Maybe twenty minutes?"

Adrian takes a step towards me. "It's getting dark out. Do you want me to walk you home?"

I can't help but smile. "That's nice of you to offer but I think I'll be fine. I have a taser in my bag."

"Right," Adrian laughs out loud until he notices my deadpan expression. "Wait, are you serious?"

I reach into my purse and pull out Tatiana, my baby pink palm-sized stun-gun. "Yeah! I bought it off Wish for like thirty dollars!"

I point it towards Adrian, and he stumbles backward. "Cassie, be careful with that!"

"I'm not going to taser you, relax!" I tuck Tatiana safely back into my bag. "Plus, it doesn't hurt that bad."

"And how would you know?"

"I accidentally tasered myself while I was unpacking it," I admit sheepishly.

Adrian's eyes widen. "You what? How is that even possible?"

"It came in very stubborn plastic packaging!"

Adrian pinches the bridge of his nose. "Did it hurt?"

I bite my lip, my playful gaze piercing Adrian's. "A little. But I have a very high pain tolerance."

"Is that so?" Adrian's eyes flicker with heat, causing my heart rate to accelerate.

"I think you need a cold shower," I whisper without thinking. "You seem a little too excited to hear me say that." What kind of freaky ass shit is this man into?

"You really don't have a filter do you, Cassie?" Adrian breathes, taking a step closer to me, leaving zero room for Jesus.

I shake my head, my mind swirling with anticipation. "I don't see the point," I mutter, catching the moonlight reflecting off his earthy irises.

Adrian lifts his hand up and tucks a wayward piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing the length of my neck, forcing a wave of trembles down my spine.

"Do you ever worry that your quick tongue will get you into trouble?" he asks in a low guttural tone, his eyes flitting down to my parted lips.

"Sometimes," I admit, my breath hitching. "But then again—what's life without a little trouble?"

"Hmm." Adrian licks his lips, dropping his hand to his side and taking a step back, leaving me a puddle of flustered hormones. "Have a goodnight, Cassie."

I take a frustrated breath. "Goodnight," I murmur. "See you Monday, Adrian."

I swiftly turn around and walk home, my legs feeling like jelly and my cheeks burning red.

God, what is he doing to me?