Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol)

by Fiona Cole

  We’d all met in our Freshman year of college when we stood by and watched in horror as someone performed all four parts of Bohemian Rhapsody by themselves for a talent show that didn’t really exist. We’d caught each other’s eyes and started laughing in unison, and the rest was history. We’d held each other through each crazy, emotional struggle and adventure over the last four years.

  I was ready to laugh and have a little too much wine and pretend duty didn’t pull me down with each step.

  “Hey, bitch,” Raelynn called as soon as I stepped through the door of the glitzy restaurant.

  The host waiting to greet us, merely raised a brow at her loud greeting. Not that Raelynn cared. It didn’t matter that we stood in one of the top restaurants filled with soft jazz and light conversations. She came barreling through like she had when we first met in college.

  Loud and uncaring of what others thought, she was everything I never knew I needed in a friend. She took my proper slacks and had me switch them out for holey jeans. Needless to say, my father wasn’t her biggest fan, but tolerated the friendship.

  “Hey, bitch,” I said much quieter once she was in my arms.

  She smacked loud air kisses next to my cheek and declared, “Let the drinking commence.”

  People stared as she walked by in her fitted nude dress, barely staying up with thin spaghetti straps. Once we reached the table, we both waited for the host to help us into our seats and hand us our napkins.

  Raelynn grew up in the same kind of world I had. The one of etiquette schools and charity galas and an extra house in the Hamptons. The only difference was that she was born with her freedom. She had zero expectations of who she needed to be as long as she didn’t shame the family beyond repair.

  “Can I get you ladies anything to drink other than water?”

  “We’ll take a bottle of Dom Perignon.” She winked. “To start.”

  “I may not be up for the night you have planned,” I said once the waiter walked away.

  “You never are. Although you look like it in that jumper. All white looks good on you. And look at those shoulders. You pull off strapless well.”

  “And it has pockets,” I joked.

  “Even better.”

  The waiter came back with our champagne, filling the slim glasses until the bubbles almost overflowed.

  “You know…” Raelynn started, the devious glint in her eyes. I tried to brace myself for what would come next, but I could rarely prepare for whatever came out of her mouth. “You should just start boinking everyone you can. Be the ho you want to be.”

  I almost choked on the drink I was taking.

  “Oh, my god. I do not want to be a ho.”

  She sighed with disappointment. “I know. You’re miss goody-goody. Missing the cardigan you love so much, but rocking the pearls still.”

  I wanted to argue with her. I wanted to adamantly deny and list off all the ways I challenged the rules, but I couldn’t.

  I was the rule follower of our group. Even Nova, the quietest of our tripod, broke more rules than I did.

  “You know, you could still let loose even if you don’t go full ho.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, fingering the pearls she’d mentioned. “You know I’m not great at one-night stands.”

  “Yeah, you tried it once and ended up dating him for almost a year. And when that ended, you slapped your chastity belt on and threw away the key.”

  “Oh, my god. Keep your voice down,” I said, glaring but still smiling.

  She topped of her champagne and leaned back in her seat, looking around the restaurant.

  “What about him?” she suggested, nodding her head to the back corner. “The one in the blue suit and no tie. Talking to the man in tweed. Who wears tweed in summer? Ew.”

  I covertly lifted my glass to my lips and slowly looked right before turning left to see who she pointed out.

  The champagne I’d been drinking almost slipped from my dropped jaw.

  Holy. Shit.

  Holy, sex on a stick.

  “Jesus…”

  “Right? God, what I wouldn’t do to feel that scruff between my thighs.”

  I couldn’t even look away long enough to reprimand Raelynn.

  “You should go talk to him.”

  “Absolutely not.” I shook my head and faced her again. But adjusted my hips in my seat, so I could still sneak a few looks without being too obvious.

  “Why not?”

  “Because he looks…busy. I don’t know. I can’t just go up to someone in the middle of the restaurant and…and…what?”

  “Please, sir,” she said in a British accent. “Can I have some more?”

  I laughed, watching his hand drag through his black hair. His long fingers driving through the thick strands. When he turned enough for me to get a more direct look, I melted a little more at his full lips. They were lush and even more pronounced from the surrounding scruff. How could a man look so unbelievably masculine with lips like that?

  “I can’t.” I shook off any ideas Raelynn tried to convince me to follow through on, coming back to reality. “Besides, he’s probably taken. He’s not exactly putting off welcoming vibes.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You and your vibes.”

  “You can tell a lot about a person based on the energy they put off. And not in an aura kind of way, but just the personality they portray. He hasn’t even smiled.”

  He briefly glanced in our direction but was too far away for me to see his eye color; they’d looked like dark pools you’d get lost in. And not in the dreamy, good way. In the, fall into a dark pit of nothingness, hoping to find any light, only to find more darkness, kind of way. His dinner partner laughed, but the delicious stranger remained just as stoic.

  “I’m getting the vibe that he’d put his all into fucking me until I forgot my name. With that scowl he’s working, he probably angry fucks and makes you question how you liked something so rough.”

  “Uhhh…”

  “God, he’s hot. Go up to him and just fall into his lap. You’re hot enough with all your lush dark hair and perky tits. You can blink those doe eyes up at him. He’ll be forced to find out if you’re as innocent as you look or if it’s all a scam to cover the true freak you are.”

  I choked on an uncomfortable laugh, looking away to hide my blush. “I—I’m not a freak.”

  At least I didn’t think so.

  “That’s because a man like him hasn’t shown you that you’d do anything—even the freakiest shit—just to please him.”

  I watched him a little longer. Taking in the elegant movement of his fingers gripping the glass, bringing it to rest on the lushest lips I’d ever seen. I watched the thick column on his throat move up and down when he swallowed, and I may have even moaned when he pulled the glass away only to be followed by the quick swipe of his tongue.

  For a moment, I imagined being the bold woman Raelynn wanted me to be. I imagined strutting over there and falling into his lap, letting his strong arms catch me. I imagined his deep voice asking me if I was okay—asking me if I wanted to go home with him. I imagined saying yes.

  “I can’t,” I said softly, forcing myself to look back at her.

  “Ugh, fine. Help me finish this bottle, and I’ll make sure you get home with your chastity belt still in place.”

  “So sweet of you,” I deadpanned.

  Our food arrived, and I explained the argument I had with my father. I’d vaguely explained my family dynamics when we met, but I never brought it up in detail. I was away from home and wanted to pretend my life didn’t require me to live like we were ancient royals who used their daughters to barter with.

  “I just wanted to work. I’d always known I’d eventually get married. I just thought I’d have more time. Maybe find someone on my own.”

  “Then work,” she suggested, like it was the easiest solution in the world. “Maybe Camden is a slow learner and takes years to get to a place where he can focus on you.”r />
  “I wish. My dad promised to blacklist me. If I try anywhere, they’ll recognize my last name and go to him for a reference, only to be told not to hire me.”

  Her lips curled in disgust. “I’ll have to be extra careful around your dad now. I have words for him.”

  “I bet,” I laughed

  “Hmmm…” She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, looking around the restaurant, like an idea was hiding behind one of the plants.

  “Why don’t you apply with a different last name?”

  “Because most businesses require identification of some sort, and all of those have my name on them. I wouldn’t get far.”

  “You remember Jeb from college?”

  “The computer guy who rarely left his dorm?”

  “Yup. He makes legit fake IDs. What if he made one for you with a different last name?”

  “I don’t know. That sounds illegal.”

  She shrugged like legality was a minor detail. “You could use your mother’s name. It’s hard to blacklist someone when he doesn’t know what’s coming.”

  “My mother’s last name is Mariano.”

  “What? Doesn’t the woman usually take the man’s last name?”

  “Not when your family lives by midcentury rules and wants their company to stay with the family name. They agreed to let my father run the company as long as he took their last name. I guess he wanted the company more than his own legacy.”

  Not that I blamed him. He was a foster kid with no history who worked his way up at Mariano Shipping, making a name for himself.

  “Okay … what about your grandmother’s last name?”

  “Hmm…Barrone?”

  “Love it. Let’s do it. Come on,” she cajoled.

  “What if they recognize me? I grew up in this world and around all the big names.”

  “Well, old money isn’t the only place to work. Besides, you don’t want to work with those old men set in their old ways. Remember all the bold, brash ideas you came up with? You’d get so excited, clutching your pearls.”

  “Shut up,” I laughed.

  “Come on, good girl. Take your brilliant ideas elsewhere and get to work.”

  Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was the flush still lingering on my cheeks from the sexy stranger in the corner. Maybe it was desperation to live a little longer before my life was given to someone else.

  Right then, it didn’t matter.

  Right then, Raelynn’s plan sounded damn good.

  Finishing off my glass, I leaned forward.

  Her lips tipped in a slow smile, knowing she’d won me over. A thrill of excitement shot down my spine, washing away any fear that this would have drastic consequences.

  I didn’t care.

  I’d blame it on the champagne.

  “Okay. Let’s make a plan.”

  Three

  Nico

  “How many interviews do we have today?” I asked, already tired despite not having even started.

  My assistant, Ryan, flipped through his stack of papers until he found what he was looking for. “Five.”

  My body sank into the plush leather of my chair. “Jesus,” I muttered, dragging a hand over my face. “Remind me why I’m doing these again?”

  Ryan cocked a brow and gave me his signature deadpanned stare he reserved just for me. We’d worked together almost longer than anyone, making him the only employee to be able to get away with it.

  “Because you’re a control freak who likes to micromanage even though you always regret how much it adds to your plate.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “I know I am.”

  “Well, then, just keep the coffee coming all day.”

  “Will do.” He made it to the door before stopping with one last thing. “Also, a Joseph Andrews called while you were away. I left a note with the papers, but it seemed important.”

  “Thank you, Ryan.”

  If possible, I sank even lower in my seat, tired down to my bones. Digging through the papers, I pulled out the sticky note that had the number I was all too familiar with scrawled across it.

  Joseph was one of the attendees at the assisted living center my grandfather lived at. I hated having him there, but he was beyond living on his own. Old age had crept up on him faster than it should have because of stress—unnecessary stress. I stuck the post-it to the edge of my computer, so I remembered to call at lunch. If it had been urgent, he would have reached out to me on my cell phone.

  Either way, I needed to get back to Charleston. I’d been in New York for an entire week, and already the cramped city bore down on me. It was too loud, too busy, too…people-y. However, each year, my time in New York increased. What started as a third of the year was now turning into two-thirds of the year in New York. It was bittersweet, to say the least.

  But work needed to be done. The New York office was growing faster than I’d anticipated, pulling in larger projects each week, and I needed more assistance to cover the workload. It wasn’t a terrible problem to have. It was exactly what I’d been working for since I graduated over ten years ago. I’d worked tirelessly even through college to dig this company—my family’s company—out of the rubble it’d been left in.

  My grandfather and father had done their best, but outside sources played dirty when my family didn’t, and it left us falling behind.

  I wouldn’t let it happen to me. I played fair—for the most part—but I also played smarter, harder. I had patience and a plan, and with that, I’d outwit the competition who’d cheated to the top.

  Which was why I micromanaged as Ryan accused. This company—this plan—meant more to me than anything, and I’d do whatever it took to succeed. Even if it meant tirelessly interviewing each candidate myself.

  I’d needed five new employees. Three were already filled, leaving two to go. Maybe today would be the day a competent candidate would come in and blow my mind, allowing me to leave this city and go back to the warm, open air of Charleston.

  My cell phone vibrated, and Xander’s name crossed the screen.

  “Hey, asshole,” I greeted my friend from college.

  “I saw I missed your call earlier. What’s up? Need another shell company?”

  Xander worked in computer technology and could create an entire world to look real on the internet from nothing. He was a genius, and I utilized every talent to my cause—my revenge.

  “Maybe I just missed your voice.”

  “Oh, yeah. You like that,” he said in his deep baritone like Barry White.

  “Tell Nicholas I said hi,” his wife shouted from the background.

  “Maggie says, hi.”

  “Shouldn’t she be worried to find you talking like that on the phone?”

  “Nah, I only talk to you like that. I use a different voice with her.”

  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  We both laughed before he sobered and asked again what I had called for earlier.

  “I just wanted to check up on any new information you gathered. More stocks are coming up on the market, and I want to make sure I’m prepared for all possibilities.”

  “You know I would call you if I had anything. So far, all is quiet.”

  “Yeah, it’s just been a while since I could acquire new stocks. I’m antsy.”

  “Have you tried calling up one of your black-book-ladies?”

  My mind flashed to the stunning brunette at the restaurant I’d been unable to get off my mind. Shaking my head, I shoved it aside, annoyed that I’d only looked at her and still thought of her a week later. “Not since I’ve been in this damn city,” I grumbled.

  “Oh, yeah. New York always makes you pissy. Go get laid and know I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Anything else? You sound more irritable than usual, which is saying something.”

  “Very funny. I’ve got a day full of interviews ahead of me.”

  “Still trying to replace that
one chick?” he asked, laughing.

  “Beth,” I grumbled.

  “You could always call her,” he joked. “Or…who was the other one?”

  “Shut up, asshole.”

  He laughed at my luck of hiring women who had applied to the job just to get close to me in hopes of bagging the boss. Beth was the most recent culprit and had started by offering to blow one of the supervisors to get placed on a project I headed.

  Being desired for my money wasn’t anything new, but I hated it even more because it fucked with my business…which fucked with my plans, and that crossed a line. My life centered around making this company successful enough to take what I wanted.

  Add in my disgust for anyone cheating their way to the top, and I fired her instantly.

  “I don’t fuck employees.”

  “Hey, don’t knock it. I fucked Maggie all over the office and now look at us.”

  I choked out a sound of disgust. “Married.”

  “Yeah, happily married. Nothing wrong with it.”

  “Maybe not. But I’m good without it. Women are a distraction, and I’ve got plenty who are perfectly fine with the occasional meet.”

  “Such a playboy,” he joked. “Doesn’t Grandpa Charlie want to see you happily married?”

  My lip curled at the thought. I’d do anything for my grandpa to make him happy, but that request was too much. “On that note, I have to go.”

  “Mr. Rush. Your first appointment has arrived,” Ryan called through the intercom.

  “That’s my first interview,” I said to a laughing Xander. “Say a prayer for me, and I’ll call someone tonight.”

  “You better, or I’m sending you a hooker. And not a top-shelf one.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Anytime.”

  With that, I got off my phone and shoved it away, clicking the intercom to talk to Ryan. “Send them in, please.”

  A tall blonde walked in, confidence pouring off every inch of her. When she spotted me standing from my desk, she stumbled over her feet a bit.

  “Okay?” I asked, rounding my desk.

  “More than okay,” she said with a slow smile.