“Me three,” he added.
“Yay!” I said.
He took that as a signal to come over and sauntered over to us. “Hey, how’s it going, girls?”
“Not bad. How are you?” I said with a wide smile. He wasn’t really my type, but I was grateful for the attention.
“Much better now you’re here. Can I buy you ladies a drink?”
“I’ve got their drinks,” Isabella cut him off. “But thanks. Come on, girls. Let’s go to the bar.”
“Oh, so I see that you ladies are taken …?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yep, we are,” I told him, as Emma giggled and we left him standing there looking sad and despondent. He probably thought we were lesbians. Maybe he’d been hoping that he could be some part of some sort of orgy with us.
“Oh my gosh, Isabella. That was so badass,” I said, as we made our way to the bar.
“Hey, you know me,” she said. “Okay, let’s get some shots to start. What do you guys want?”
“I know a good shot,” Chloe added.
“Oh gosh, not mind erasers again,” I said. “I can’t afford to lose my mind tonight.”
“No, not mind erasers, blow jobs.”
“Oh man, they’re so sugary and sweet.”
“Hey, don’t you wish they were all like that?” She winked and we laughed.
“Fine. Let’s do blow jobs and then let’s do some tequila. I need to get drunk tonight.”
“But your job!” Isabella said.
“Fuck my job. I’m in the club, and I’m not working for Dylan McAllister right now. Right now, I have no job. Right now, my only job is to have fun.”
“Is it really?” a dry voice next to me said.
I froze. Oh shit. I couldn’t be that unlucky, could I? I turned to the left and sure enough, there he was, staring down at me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking because it was so dark in the club. “Oh, hello, Mr. McAllister.”
“You can call me Dylan.”
“What?” I was flustered now. He was standing too close to me and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“I said you can call me Dylan. You’re right. You’re not working for me currently. So we can be on a first-name basis. Right, Abby?”
“I’d prefer you called me Ms. Waldron, actually.”
“Oh, you prefer it, do you?” he said. “Just like you prefer tequila?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t like tequila?”
“I’m more of a scotch man myself.”
“Of course, you would be.” I rolled my eyes.
“Why of course?”
“You just seem the sort of guy who’d drink something pretentious and expensive. I’ve seen some scotch whiskeys that go for like a hundred dollars for just a glass, and it’s like, really? You want to show off your money?”
“A hundred dollars is nothing, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “But whatever.”
“Okay. Well, it was nice seeing you, Mr. McAllister.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Yep. We’re about to have our shots and then we’re going to hit the dance floor.”
“So, would you like to dance?”
“Are you … asking me to dance?” I was taken aback. He wanted to dance with me? Why? So he could lecture me and tell me more things that I needed to do better in my job? “That’s okay. Thanks. I’m going to dance with my friends and then see what guys are out there that I might actually want to dance with.”
“So you don’t want to dance with me, is that what you’re saying?”
“Why, you are so smart, Mr. McAllister. Did you get all A’s in school?”
“Yes, I did,” he said with a grin. “I don’t believe you don’t want to dance with me.”
“Why don’t you believe it?”
“Did my brother tell you I have two left feet? Hey, Kent,” he called over to his younger brother.
“Yeah, bro?”
“Did you tell Ms. Waldron here that I have two left feet?”
“When would he have told me that?” I answered for Kent. “My friends and I just got to the bar and—”
“Obviously, it’s a joke, Abby. Don’t take yourself so seriously. You’re at a nightclub. You’re here to have fun—or do you not know how to have fun?”
“Oh, I put the fun in fun. Thank you very much. All my friends can attest to the fact that I am the most fun.”
“Hmm. Methinks that if you have to say that you’re the most fun, you’re probably not.”
“Oh, you’re so frustrating.” I glared at him.
“Really? No one’s ever said that to me before.” There was a glint in his eye and a smirk on his face, and I knew he was teasing me now. There was something about our banter that I quite liked, but I would never have admitted as much.
“Well, have a good evening, Mr. McAllister.”
“Only if you call me Dylan.”
“Okay. Well, Dylan, have a good evening.”
“Only if you dance with me.”
“I already told you I’m not dancing with you.”
“But why not?”
“What do you mean why not? I just don’t want to.”
“But you said you want to go onto the dance floor with your friends and look for guys that you think are, what, cute or rich or handsome or—what do they have that I don’t?”
“What do you care?”
“I’m just curious what my frumpy, yet sexy secretary is looking for.”
“Did you just call me frumpy yet sexy?” My heartbeat kicked up a notch. Had he really called me sexy?
“No, you misheard me.” He blinked all of a sudden. “I just meant to say that …”
“Ah, did it slip out of your mouth?” I laughed.
“Did what slip out?” he said with a little wink.
I felt my face flush. Why did he have the ability to make even the mundane sound sexy?
I stared at him, not blinking. I didn’t want him to think he could get under my skin so easily. “What?”
“You asked me if it slipped out, and I just wanted to confirm that we were talking about the same thing.”
“You’re confusing me.” I blinked.
“Am I?” He grinned. “Because it doesn’t slip that often, you know.”
“What doesn’t slip out often?”
“You know what.”
“Oh my gosh, Mr. McAllister. Really?”
“We already said you were going to be calling me Dylan.”
“You literally just told me ten minutes ago when we were outside that I was to call you Mr. McAllister.”
“Now, I’ve changed my mind, which I can do seeing as I’m your boss.”
“I completely understand why you haven’t been able to keep a secretary for long.”
“Oh, really? You do now, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, why don’t you tell me.”
“I’m here to have a good time, not a dull time.”
“And I’m here to have a good time as well.”