“Wow.”

“Yeah. He seems really good now, though. He’s usually in a good mood, anyway.” Lindsey grinned. “But I would be too if I got up every morning and looked at that face. The man is obscenely hot—if you’re into that sort of thing, that is.”

I laughed. “Not your type?”

“Apparently I like my men balding with a beer belly and propensity to be unemployed. I’ve been with Al since I was sixteen.”

“He’s gained some weight, huh?”

She snorted. “Actually, no. He’s pretty much always looked the same way. But the man thinks I walk on water for reasons I’ll never understand. Treats me like a princess.”

“Good for you.”

A couple of people from sales came into the bar and joined us, effectively ending my gossip session with Lindsey. After that, we mingled, and I got to meet a few new people. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d learned about Chase. He’d lost someone. Something like that had to have a big impact on your life, no matter how smart and well-adjusted you were.

Even if it didn’t break you, it left cracks and tiny fissures that could never be repaired.

Although the bar had grown busier by nine, the office crowd had begun to thin out. Lindsey went home, and there was only one other person from marketing left. It was time to call it a night. I attempted to get the bartender’s attention, but she was swamped down at the other end of the bar.

A man who’d clearly been overserved squeezed in next to me and tried to strike up a conversation while standing too close.

“Is that your real hair color?” he asked.

“Don’t you know you’re never supposed to ask a woman her age, weight, or if she dyes her hair?”

“Didn’t know that.” He swayed back and forth. “So asking for a phone number is okay?”

I attempted to be polite. “I suppose, if she isn’t married and seems interested.”

Feeling the need to escape, I tried again to get the bartender’s attention so I could close my tab. She held up her hand to let me know she’d seen me, but she was still busy making drinks at the other end of the bar. They really needed another bartender with this crowd.

Since I was stuck standing there, drunk guy assumed that meant I was interested. “What’s your name, red?” He reached out and touched my hair.

“Please don’t touch me.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You like women or something?”

This guy was amusing. For the first time since he’d walked over, I finally gave him my full attention, turning my body to face him before answering. “You assume I like women, just because I don’t want you to touch me?”

He ignored me. “Let me buy you a drink, pretty girl.”

“No, thanks.”

He leaned in closer, wobbling as he spoke. “You’re feisty. I like that. The red hair must be real.”

A voice from behind me caught me by surprise.

“Go stand somewhere else.” Chase’s voice was low but stern. He took a step and partially inserted himself between us, facing the drunk.

“I saw her first,” the man whined.

“I don’t think so, buddy. I sucked her face in middle school. Take a hike.”

The drunk grumbled something, but staggered away. Chase turned to face me, standing in his place. Wow. Much better view.

“Thank you. Polite wasn’t working.”

Of course, as soon as the drunk was no longer a problem, the bartender came to settle my tab. “What can I get you, Chase?” Or maybe not.

“I’ll take a Sam Adams.”

She turned to me. “You want me to close out your tab, right?”

“You’re leaving? I just got here. You have to have one drink with me.”

I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I knew I should probably go. Chase read the hesitation on my face.

“Close her tab. Bring another of whatever she’s drinking, and put it on my tab. We’re going to move to a table where it’s quieter.”

The bartender took his direction, and I shook my head, even though I was smiling.

“No one ever says no to you, do they?” I asked.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

A minute later, Chase had both of our drinks in one hand and used the other to guide me toward a quiet table in the back. Once settled, he sipped his beer, watching me over the bottle. “Thanks for the invite tonight, by the way.”

I stopped with my drink mid-way to my lips. “I didn’t even know everyone went out on Thursday nights. I’m the new girl. You could have told me about it.”

“Tried to. Came by your office, but you were already gone.”

I’d actually sat at my desk and thought about stopping by Chase’s office to mention everyone was going for drinks. But in my head, it had felt like I would be asking him for more than just joining a group for happy hour.

“Well…we’re both here now,” I said. “You worked pretty late tonight.”

“I had dinner plans, actually.”

His answer made me feel anxious…and maybe a teeny bit jealous. “Oh.”

I felt him staring at me, yet avoided his eyes as I stirred my drink. When I finally looked up, his eyes searched for something in mine.

“With my sister, not a date. It’s a regular weekly thing.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“No. You didn’t ask. But you were disappointed when I said I had dinner plans.”

“I was not.”

“Looked that way to me.”

“I think your conceitedness clouds your judgment of what you see sometimes.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“So it wouldn’t stir any feelings inside of you if I told you I was late because I was busy fucking someone?”

My jaw clenched, but I forced a mask onto my face and shrugged. “Not at all. Why would it bother me? You’re my boss, not my boyfriend.”

Surprising me, Chase dropped it and changed the subject. “So how do you like it so far at Parker Industries?”

“I love it, actually. It reminds me a lot of when I first started at Fresh Look. Everyone is so open-minded and in touch with the people who actually use the products. Even though Fresh Look is a smaller company than Parker, it took on investors over the years, and they began to control more and more of how Fresh Look marketed. Eventually, management started to lose sight of who we were marketing to—the board of directors or the women who used the cosmetics.”