“Yeah. Well, my good time’s not going to be with you.”
“Abby,” he said.
“Yes, Dylan?”
“Would you like me to buy you a drink?”
“No, Isabella’s buying my drinks, but thank you.” I gave him my sweetest smile. “It has been so much fun talking with you, but I’m not on the clock right now so I don’t actually have to, and I don’t really want to be rude.”
“You don’t? You could have surprised me.”
“Well, I mean, when dealing with someone such as yourself.”
“Such as myself?”
“Someone who’s rude to me.”
“When have I been rude to you?”
“Dylan, really?”
“Abby, really?” he mocked me.
“Abby,” Isabella called over to me.
“Yes?”
“I’ve got the tequila shots. They didn’t make blow jobs. So we’ll just do tequila. Okay?”
“Sounds good. Well, I’ve got to go. Bye,” I said to Dylan.
“Your friend’s right there,” he said. “You don’t have to go anywhere.”
Isabella made her way back over to me and handed me two shots. “I got us two each to start the night.” Seeing as I was there, she grinned. “And we need to get drunk fast.” She stared at Dylan and grinned at him. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.”
“Well, here I am,” he said. “Maybe I’m like the invisible man. I come and go.”
“Maybe,” she laughed.
“Maybe indeed,” he said. “So, tequila.”
“Ha, ha, you already knew.”
“You’re going to do both shots?”
“Just watch me.” I downed them before he could blink.
“Whoa there, tiger.”
“Whoa there, indeed.”
“You sure you want to take two shots at the same time?”
“Tequila is nothing. I’m used to rum.”
“Oh, really?” He looked me up and down. “Rum, huh?”
“Yep. Ten-year-old Demerara rum.”
“Okay. So you have a specific type that you like?”
“Yep. Guyanese Demerara, ten-year-old rum. I could drink it all day and night and not even be affected.”
“That’s not true,” Isabella said with a laugh. “You drink half a glass of rum and you’re absolutely crazy for the rest of the night.” I shot her a glare.
“So you do drink a lot of rum?” Dylan said in surprise. “You didn’t strike me as a rum girl.”
“Yeah. Well, half of my family is from Guyana, and they have a rum distillery there. Rum is in my veins, I suppose.”
“I didn’t know you had family in Guyana.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Of course, I’ve heard of it.”
“Well, most people haven’t,” I said. “I’m talking about Guyana in South America, not Ghana in Africa. Just in case you were confused.”
He snorted. “I’m not confused. I know where Guyana is. It’s the northern point of South America, capital Georgetown. Population approximately 770,000. There are—”
I touched him on the shoulder. “Wait, you actually know about Guyana?” I was happily shocked. Practically no one had heard of the country. “How do you know about it?” I quickly pulled my hand back when I realized I was still touching him.
His gaze lingered on my lips for a few seconds. I wondered if he wanted to kiss me. I wanted him to, if I admitted it to myself, even though I knew it would be a horrible idea. You didn’t go kissing your asshole boss and live to tell the tale.
“I’m actually planning on doing some business there,” he replied. “I’m sure you’ve heard they’ve found oil off the coast in the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Oh, yeah,” I nodded. “I didn’t realize you were going to do business there.”
“Yeah. I’m investing in a Canadian company that is trying to do a deal with the government.”
“Oh. Cool.”
“But I know you don’t want to talk business now,” he said.
“Well, of course not. I think my friends and I are going to go and dance now. So …”
“So I’ll join you,” he said. “I love dancing.”
“You do?” I asked him, surprised again. He didn’t really seem like the sort of man who loved dancing.
“Oh, yeah, I could have been on Dancing with the Stars if I wasn’t so busy in the office. Right, Kent?”
“Yeah, right, bro.” Kent looked me up and down, and then he looked at his brother. There was a curious expression on his face and I wasn’t sure what it meant. “So, you’re going to go and dance then, Dylan?”
“For a little bit.” Dylan grinned. “I’ll be back.” He looked back at me. “Shall we?” he said, as he gave me his hand. I looked over to my friends.
“Go on, Abby,” Emma said. “You hit the dance floor and then we’ll join you in a second.”
“Okay.”
I took his hands. A little buzz of electricity flowed through me as our fingers touched. I was pretty sure he felt it as well because something in his expression changed as he led me towards the dance floor. This was a weird, weird evening, but as I stood there on the dance floor next to him, I realized that I was actually quite glad that he was here tonight. I liked that I was getting to know him a little bit better. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as big of an asshole as I initially thought.
Chapter 10
Abby
* * *
I followed Dylan onto the dance floor. I couldn’t quite believe I was here with him. Dancing, moving. He had a nice rhythm that surprised me. He wasn’t the best dancer by any means, but there was a sensual fluidity to his movement, and I found myself moving in sync with him.
“So do you come here often?” he shouted over the music.
“Sorry, what?” I shouted back.
“I said do you come here often?”
“Not really.” I shook my head. “You?”
“No. Never.” He made a face, and I laughed.
So is this what he was like when he was out of the office? Gone was his arrogance and air of judgment. In his place was just a regular, albeit handsome man.
“You dance very well. Did you take lessons when you were younger?”
“Lessons?” He shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. You?”
“My mom put me in ballet and I failed, and then she put me in tap and I sucked, and then she put me in modern dance, and let’s just say I’m not creative enough for that.”
“She really wanted you to be a dancer, huh?”
“I think so.” I laughed. “She put me in all sorts of classes. There were so many things she regretted from her childhood, so she wanted me to be able to experience all the things that she didn’t.” I shrugged. “I mean, I wasn’t really interested in any of them, to be honest. I just liked to read my book in my room, but I had piano lessons and violin lessons and ballet lessons and Spanish lessons and Latin lessons—”