by Katie McCoy
“The firm’s cocktail party is this weekend,” he reminded me. “Who are you bringing?”
“Um.” I paused. I had planned on going alone.
“You know that the partners like stability,” he continued. “Lucinda will be bringing her husband, and Bryce just recently got engaged. Everyone is eager to meet their spouses. A settled lawyer is a productive lawyer, someone keeping the home fires burning while you work your long hours.”
My stomach got an uncomfortable twist in it. Was Arthur saying what I thought he was saying?
“Just remember that we can be a bit traditional here,” he told me, but the warning was clear.
Bring a date, he was telling me. Or you might be out of the running for associate.
6
Alex
“He single-shamed you?” Kelsey asked, her mouth agape, as I told her what had happened at work.
“He was trying to be helpful,” I countered, because I got the sense that Arthur wasn’t telling me because he cared, but because he knew other people did.
“Isn’t that illegal?” she wanted to know. “And shouldn’t a law firm know better?”
I shrugged. “It’s not illegal if it’s not explicit. It’s just a company culture thing. Some places are modern, and don’t care what you do with your personal life, and some . . . Well, they get way too involved.”
“That sucks,” Kelsey sighed.
“Yep.” I took a sip of my martini. “And there isn’t anything I can do about it.”
Because even if I wanted to bring someone to the cocktail party, I wasn’t dating anyone. The last serious relationship I had was during law school, and that had gone South because I spent all my time and energy focusing on my studies instead of fawning over my boyfriend. After that, it had been a string of unsatisfying flings, but even those had been few and far between.
“I’m glad Justin doesn’t have rules like that,” Kelsey said, turning to her favorite topic of conversation, the CEO of her company that she had an all-consuming crush on.
A guy who barely seemed to notice that she was alive. But Kelsey was a romantic. Like, a love at first sight, long walks in the rain kind of romantic. I admired her devotion, but my own romantic past made it hard to believe in love the way that she did.
That didn’t mean I was anti-love. Not at all. I just knew that relationships required work and compromise, and I didn’t have time for either right now.
“I could ask some of the guys at work if they’re single,” Kelsey offered.
I made a face. “No thanks,” I told her. “I really don’t think taking a first date to meet my bosses would be a good idea.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
I hated feeling like I didn’t have control over my life, and this was the very definition of having no control. What was I going to do? It’s not like I could just summon a suitable guy out of nowhere.
Except, at that moment, a guy did seem to appear out of nowhere. A guy I knew.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Emerson said, approaching the table.
He was wearing a simple blue button-up shirt and a pair of black jeans. He looked good. Really good. And I could see Kelsey take notice.
“Shouldn’t you be at your bar?” I asked him.
“I’m scoping out the competition,” he told me before turning to Kelsey and holding out his hand. “I’m Emerson,” he said. “A friend of Alex’s.”
“Oh really?” She raised an eyebrow in my direction. “A new friend?”
“Very new,” he told her.
“He manages the bar on the bottom floor of my building,” I interjected before Kelsey could get the wrong idea.
“There’s a bar on the bottom floor of your building?” she asked, slapping my arm. “Why didn’t I know that?”
“We haven’t opened yet,” Emerson told her. “Next weekend is the grand opening. You should come.”
“Oh, I will,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
I shot her a look. One that she completely misconstrued. Her eyes widened as her gaze swung between me and Emerson.
“I think I’ll go to the bathroom,” she said, giving me a wink.
“That’s not necessary,” I told her, knowing that she thought that something was going on between me and Emerson. Which it wasn’t. Not really.
“Mmhmm,” she said, getting up anyways.
“She seems nice,” Emerson said as she walked away.
“She is,” I agreed. Nice, and way too eager to get me laid.
“What are you drinking?” Emerson asked.
“Martini.” I held up my empty glass.
“Can I get you a refill?” he offered, waving down a waiter before I could respond. “Three martinis,” he said, noting Kelsey’s empty glass as well.
“So.” I turned to him once the waiter was gone. “How’s the competition looking so far?”
“Good.” He glanced around the room. “Definitely a little more of a corporate feel than what we’re going for, but it’s good to see what’s out there.”
I looked around, seeing exactly what he was talking about. This place was a good place to talk business. There wasn’t any food being served and all the tables were tall ones—not really a place to get comfortable, like Rascals seemed to be.
“Alex!” a familiar voice said from behind me.
I turned to find my boss Arthur and his wife, Deanna standing there. I had met her at the Christmas party, and she had been a quintessential lawyer’s wife—classy, smart, but very good at listening to lawyers talk shop.
“Good to see you,” I told them, hiding my fluster. Somehow, seeing work people out of work felt weird, like worlds colliding. “Do you, um, come here often?”
“Just stopping for a drink before we head to the theatre,” Deanna commented. “I managed to rope him into seeing Hamilton with me. Again.”
“The things we do for love,” Arthur commented dryly, though it was clear that he was happy to do so. He turned to Emerson. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Sorry,” I apologized. “Emerson, this is Arthur, my boss.”
The two men shook.
“Unfortunately we can’t stick around,” Arthur said. “But maybe we can get to know each other at the party this weekend.”
Uh-oh.
Emerson gave me a look, and I was about to explain that we were just friends, except Deanna tugged on his arm.
“We really should go,” she told him. “They’re pretty strict about seating.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Arthur said to me before turning to Emerson. “And you this weekend, I hope?”
Thankfully, he didn’t wait for an answer, disappearing into the crowd before I could explain the mistake.
Emerson arched an eyebrow at me. “This weekend?” he asked.
“It’s just a misunderstanding,” I told him. “I’ll clear it up tomorrow.”
“Mmhmm,” Emerson said, clearly interested.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told him.
He shrugged, his gaze focusing on something past my shoulder. His eyes lit up and he waved. I turned to see that he was waving at a pretty, petite brunette in the crowd.
“Friend of yours?” I asked, feeling strangely and irrationally jealous.
“Something like that,” he said cagily. “Excuse me for a moment.”
He headed over towards her, greeting her with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. I shouldn’t have been disappointed—after all, there was no way that a guy who looked like Emerson did wasn’t a complete player—but I still found myself feeling things I didn’t want to feel.
Luckily, our martinis were delivered at that point, and I distracted myself until Kelsey returned by drinking mine and half of hers.
“What did I miss?” she asked.
I gestured over to where Emerson was deep in conversation with the brunette.
“Who’s that?” she wanted to know.
I shrugged. “My boss was here too,�
� I told her, and I recounted how Arthur had assumed that Emerson and I were together. “So now I have to go to his office tomorrow and explain that Emerson won’t be at the party on Saturday.”
Kelsey didn’t say anything at first, glancing over to where Emerson was still talking to the brunette.
“That’s not such a bad idea,” she said slowly.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “It’s a ridiculous idea. I barely know him.”
Kelsey gave me a look that indicated that she didn’t believe me for a second.
“You know him well enough for him to come over and talk to you at a crowded bar,” she pointed out.
“He obviously doesn’t have any problem talking to women at bars,” I countered.
“So he’ll be totally fine at a cocktail party,” Kelsey said. “He won’t be awkward or uncomfortable in a crowd of strangers.”
“But I’ll be awkward and uncomfortable,” I told her. “Because everyone we’ll think that we’re a couple. And we’re not!”
“So what?” Kelsey waved down the waiter and ordered another drink, since I had stolen hers and nearly finished it. “No one has to know the truth—the whole thing is ridiculous anyways.”
I shook my head. “No way.”
“He does owe you after keeping you up all night,” Kelsey said with a smile.
How I wished he was keeping me up all night for other reasons, I thought, my mind once again going back to that hot kiss in the ATM vestibule.
“It’s not going to happen,” I told Kelsey, snagging a sip of her fresh martini. “Not in a million years.”
But by the end of the following day, I was starting to reconsider Kelsey’s suggestion. No less than three people at work had come up to me to tell me how much they were looking forward to meeting my boyfriend at the party that weekend. Even Arthur had brought it up again, saying that he was looking forward to getting to know Emerson better.
“Seems like a nice young man,” he told me with a wink.
The whole thing was ridiculous to me, but I wasn’t going to let a boyfriend—or lack of one—ruin my chances at that associate position. And besides, Kelsey did have a point. If anything, Emerson owed me for all the noise and sleepless nights.
So that evening, after work, I went straight to the bar.
“Come to cash in on your free beer?” Emerson asked as I walked in. He was back in his plaid shirt, cleaning off the bar with a rag. “Or are you looking for another grilled cheese sandwich?”
“Neither,” I told him, putting on my best lawyer face. “But I have a proposition for you.”
He dropped the towel he was holding.
“Go on,” he said, leaning across the bar.
I blushed, realizing how suggestive I had sounded.
“It’s not like that,” I quickly corrected.
“Darn,” he teased. “Are you sure?”
“I need a date,” I said bluntly. “A fake one.”
He blinked. “You need a fake date.”
I sighed and sat down at the bar. “You remember how my boss mentioned a cocktail party the other night?”
Emerson said nothing, just nodded slowly.
“Well, as you can guess, he thought that I would be taking you. That we were . . . a couple.”
“You don’t have to say it like that.” Emerson winked at me. “I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent date—fake or not.”
“Well, I need a fake one,” I told him, wanting to be clear. “But I need you to pretend that we are dating. That we’re together.”
Emerson leaned forward, his elbows on the bar.
“How together are we?” he asked, his voice going low and husky.
Heat spread through me, and I tried to focus on the topic at hand, not on the way his eyes kept dropping down to my lips.
“Together enough that I would bring you to a party to meet my co-workers,” I said. “My firm is a little . . . old fashioned. Apparently being a single woman doesn’t fit into the corporate culture there.”
“So this is just to convince your bosses that you’re not single?”
I nodded. “Besides, you owe me.”
His eyebrows went up. “Oh, I do?”
“For the noise.” I gestured at the bar. “For keeping me up.”
Emerson grinned at me. “I guess I do.”
“So, Saturday night then?” I asked, feeling relieved. “I can meet you here at seven?”
“Sure,” Emerson said, but before I could turn away, his hand had reached out and grabbed mine.
His skin was warm, and I felt heat rush through me. It was as if the whole world slowed around us and it was just me and Emerson. Nothing else. I felt my breath leave my lungs as he ran his thumb across my palm.
“For the record . . .” Emerson’s eyes were intense, focused on mine. “I would have said yes. No matter what.”
7
Alex
I was nervous. I didn’t have any reason to be nervous, but I couldn’t help it. Tonight had to go well. I was pretty confident in my own abilities to schmooze and make small talk with my co-workers, but how would Emerson do? Would he have anything in common with stuffy lawyer-types, or would they look down their noses at him, the way they did to everyone—including me sometimes?
But it was too late to do anything about it. My firm had all but demanded I bring a date—and I was bringing a date.
At least I didn’t have to worry about what to wear.
I pulled out my trusty Donna Karan little black wrap dress—the one I had found five years ago in a consignment shop for a steal. It was my go-to outfit for any semi-fancy work functions—one that I could change up with jewelry and shoes. I wrestled my blonde hair into a sleek twist and applied some makeup. Nothing too outrageous—if anything, I needed to look generic and respectable. That meant nude lips, minimal eyeliner, and just a hint of blush. I added some faux diamond studs to my ears and slipped into my trusty black pumps, and I looked like I was ready. For a funeral.
Exactly how I had intended to look.
Even though it was spring, I grabbed my black pashmina and headed downstairs to meet Emerson. Construction was still in full swing, so I wove carefully through the sawdust and noise, hoping that Emerson was dressed appropriately for the evening.
When I spotted him, all of my fears dropped away, replaced by something a little more intense. Because he was dressed perfectly for the event, in a suit with a tie. He even had a pocket square and cufflinks. And he looked good.
Really, really good.
The suit, which was black, fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders. His shirt was light gray with a patterned black tie—but subtly patterned, nothing that would make him look out of place among my co-workers. His hair was combed, but still had a hint of unruliness.
He was delicious.
Well, technically, he was leaning over the bar, examining a document. He hadn’t noticed me yet. I sidled up to him, the click of my heels on the hardwood floors muffled by sound of construction.
“What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” I purred, once I had gotten close enough.
Emerson jumped in surprise, and I laughed.
“Getting the shit scared out of me, apparently,” he said, smiling as he turned to face me.
But the smile faded as he got his first look at me.
“Wow.” He let out a low whistle. “You look gorgeous.”
I could feel my blush rising from my chest, up my neck and across my cheeks. The look in his eyes practically set me on fire—all hunger and lust—exactly the way you wanted your date to look at you.
Too bad this was all pretend.
“You look pretty good yourself,” I managed, my voice husky.
“Thanks.” Emerson kept staring at me, his eyes sweeping up and down, as if he was imagining what I was wearing underneath my simple black dress.
For a brief moment I thought of informing him about my black lace bra and matching thong. But I knew th
at doing so would be setting us down a dangerous road. A sexy, hot road, but a dangerous one.
“Shall we go?” I asked.
Emerson blinked, as if trying to rid himself of his own naughty thoughts.
“I’m ready when you are,” he told me.
We headed out of the bar, and as we left, he put his hand on my lower back to guide me around some of the construction. I could feel the heat of his palm all the way through my dress. It was warm outside, but I shivered. His touch—just that simple gesture—was electric.
“I thought we’d grab a cab or a Lyft,” I said, moving away from his hand and heading in the direction of the main street.
But Emerson pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. “I can drive,” he offered, and led me to where a surprisingly sleek car was waiting. I didn’t know much about cars, but I glimpsed a Lexus badge before he opened the passenger door for me and slid inside.
His car was nice. Much nicer than what I expected a scruffy bar manager to own, not even including the fact that parking could be so bad in the Loop that owning a car was a bit of a luxury in and of itself.
Combined with the gorgeous suit that Emerson just apparently had at the ready, it was clear he had plenty for me still to figure out.
“So,” he said as we pulled away from the curb. “What do I need to know? And whose rings do we need to kiss?”
I laughed. “I guess you know how these kinds of parties work then?”
He nodded. “I’ve known a few lawyers in my time,” he commented vaguely. “The guy we met the other night, is he your boss?”
“One of them,” I confirmed. “He’s one of the partners, but I’ve done most of my work directly underneath him. I’m up for an associate position at the firm, but there are three of us in the running, and only one position available.” I glanced over at him, drinking in his handsome profile. “Parties like these are really important for our visibility at the firm. I really appreciate you coming with me,” I said sincerely, not sure if I had said it yet. “Thank you.”