Nicco

Ch. 7: Happy Hour Shenanigans

ARIA

At ten to five, Nicco and I walk into the Rooster Lounge. My gaze darts around, taking in my surroundings. This place is unlike any bar or pub I've visited back in the States. From the Chesterfield-style leather booths and chairs to the dark, rich woods, the entire establishment reeks of old money and old-world charm. Crystal-draped bronze chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Faint wafts of cigar smoke fill my nostrils. Up ahead, the mirrored bar is packed with top-shelf brands. Hennessey. Macallan. Dom Pérignon. Any one of these bottles would wipe out my entire paycheck.

Anxiously, I check my phone.

4:53 pm.

It's almost go-time. Happy hour starts in seven minutes. Nicco and I need to find Mr. Manning and win him over.

Jazz music plays in the background. Some of our coworkers have already arrived. They're gathered by the bar. I recognize Stacy from Accounting and Dan and Stephan from Mergers and Acquisitions. Stacy spots us first. She smiles and waves at us. Nicco ignores her, but I wave back, trying not to let my nerves get the better of me.

Once we grab our drinks, a beer for me, a scotch for Nicco, Dan and Stephan approach us. Dan is older. Mid-fifties. The guy is Stephan's supervisor. Dan starts kissing Nicco's ass like there's no tomorrow while Stephan tries to flirt with me like he always does. I make an effort to play nice with everyone, but I can tell from the slight tick Nicco's jaw and his terse replies that he's irritated by both of them, especially Stephan.

I wonder what the poor guy did to offend Nicco?

A minute later, my boss excuses us from their company. We move to the other side of the lounge. I start scanning the crowd around us. Two forty-something men in suits are drinking at the bar. A tall, brown-haired, bearded fellow with black-rimmed glasses is standing to my right. He has a whiskey in hand. The Beard only looks to be a few years older than me, and his side profile is kind of cute.

He turns his head right then, and, from across the room, we make eye contact.

I don't look away.

The Beard winks at me.

Feeling a bit buzzed from my beer, I smile back.

He's fuckable enough, I guess. I consider giving the Beard my number after happy hour is over. After surviving a psychotic month under Nicco's tyranny, I feel as though I deserve a bit of stress relief this weekend.

Nothing like no-strings-attached sex with a stranger to help a bitch forget about fucking her hot boss, right?

Feeling restless and agitated, I chug the rest of my beer. It tastes like regret hitting the back of my throat. I shouldn't have given in. I've been good for so long. I pray this momentary lapse in judgment won't come back to bite me in the ass.

Beside me, Nicco clears his throat.

Loudly.

The sound startles me, and I suddenly realize that he has been watching me make goo-goo eyes at the Beard this whole time.

Shit.

Embarrassed about being caught, I steal a glance in Nicco's direction. What I see makes me frown. For some reason, there's an annoyed gleam in his green eyes even though his face is all smiles.

To my relief, Nicco doesn't tease me about the Beard. He simply leans in and asks, "Have you seen Manning?"

Even though there's nothing sexual about this question, Nicco's tone is low, intimate, and his closeness calls to me like a moth to a flame. It makes me want to move closer to him as well.