“This place is a madhouse!” he says, sliding the drinks on the table. “Our waitress is coming with your water,” he hands me my vodka-cranberry, “and to order us another round. I’m planning ahead.” He winks.
“I like how you think,” Zay says, grabbing his bottle of beer from the center of the table.
“Me too!” Kinsley agrees, and I just laugh at how my professional coworkers have suddenly turned into complete lushes.
Rowan picks up his glass of wine and holds it over the table. “Cheers to great coworkers and thank God it’s Friday!”
“Cheers!” everyone yells, and we all toast. I take a sip of my drink, thankful I decided to come out.
An hour and a half and four drinks later, we’re all still here. Emery made her way back to us after seeing some old friends and catching up with them for a while.
“So, Saige, talk to us. We know you’re from North Dakota, we know your roommate’s name is Evelyn, but what else? Give us some dirt,” Kinsley says, eagerly tapping her fingers on the table. “I mean, you’ve been out with us only once,” she questions, “and all I know are the basics. Tell me the dirt.” She winks at me.
“Dirt?” I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t have any dirt, but even if I did, you fools are the last people I’d tell it to!” I wink back at her and laugh.
Everyone busts out laughing, and Rowan shouts, “She’s smarter than we give her credit for!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying not to be insulted by his comment.
He rolls his eyes toward me in an obvious way. “I mean, come on, Saige. You just graduated college. You know how lucrative Jackson-Hamilton is and how hard it is to get a job here. I didn’t mean that you weren’t smart. We just assumed Mr. Hamilton got a good look at you and that’s why you were hired, not because you actually had the credentials.”
I blink at him, offended by what he just said. “So a smart woman can’t be pretty too? Not that I’m pretty,” I add, more to myself. “I’m actually kind of plain—”
Zay snorts, cutting me off, and I shoot him an annoyed look.
“Look. I was fifth in my class from the university. I have a degree in interior design and an extensive background in aviation. I went to the number one flight school in the country and have my private pilot’s license—even though my fear of heights about killed me getting it. I hate flying. I got this job because I have what it takes, not because I’m a pretty face.” I swallow hard but force a smile to hide the fact that I’m obviously hurt by his assumptions.
He has the guts to look sheepish, at least. “I’m sorry, Saige, I really didn’t mean it that way. I was trying to be funny and I missed the target.”
“Ya think?” Emery grumbles, then turns to me. “Saige, you’ve more than proven you have what it takes. Ignore him.” She narrows her eyes at Rowan in annoyance and he shrugs.
“No, don’t ignore me,” Rowan begs playfully. “I wouldn’t be able to take it.” He presses his hand over his heart.
I can’t help but chuckle, even though I’m still slightly hurt. “I’m not upset,” I tell him, only half-lying. But then Kinsley makes a face, like she knows she’s about to upset me.
“It’s just the way we see Mr. Hamilton look at you,” she says. Ah, Kinsley. If this group is concerned about how anyone got hired here, they should be worried about her. A party girl with a filthy mouth working at one of the most exclusive aviation companies in the United States.
“Look at me?” I question Kinsley, raising my eyebrows. What’re they talking about?
“He definitely has eyes for you,” Zay chimes in with a smile. “Don’t look, but kind of like the way he’s looking at you right now.” He drops his eyes from across the bar to the bottle of beer in his hand.
“What?” I snap my head up and scan the bar to find Holt Hamilton standing at a table with a small glass of amber liquid pressed to his lips. Our eyes meet, and I immediately flush. I’m not sure if it’s his blue eyes or the heat from the alcohol finally hitting me, but my heart races and I begin to sweat. Holt nods casually at me and turns back to the man he’s with and begins talking. The two men lean in to each other. From their posture and facial expressions, I can tell whatever it is they’re discussing is important.
“Holy fucking shit, Holt Hamilton is at Bar 51,” Kinsley says with a look of shock on her face.
“Why is he here?” I question, reaching absently for my ice water.
“How the hell would we know?” Zay answers, his voice reeking of displeasure.
I can’t tear my eyes away from Holt. His dark hair stands out against the light brown of the man he’s talking with. He’s remarkably tall, and it’s easy to see him across the bar since he’s almost a head taller than everyone around him.
“Why are you blushing, Saige?” Rowan asks with a teasing laugh.
“I’m not blushing.” I duck my head when I realize that I probably am blushing. “It’s just hot in here.”
“It is now that Holt Hotness Hamilton is here,” Emery says with a laugh. She runs her fingers through her light brown bangs.
“I wish he was gay,” Rowan sighs and sips his wine. “I’d climb all over that man like a spider monkey.”