“I think so. I get this super good vibe around him. He’s just so … oh, I don’t know. Caring might be a good word.”
As we sit, the waiter comes up with two bottles of wine. “Would you ladies prefer white or red this evening?”
We all blurt out, “White.”
I don’t remember ordering any wine. So I pose that question and he grins as he pops the corks and pours. “This is courtesy of Ben Rhoades. Enjoy, ladies.”
They all look at me in appreciation.
“Well, this is a nice surprise. He’s stepping up his game. Have you not had sex with the man yet?” Lauren asks.
Everyone laughs and looks at me until Berkeley breaks in. “Well? Is this you dragging him along and him begging, Sam?”
“No! I mean, yes.” I lean in and whisper, “We’ve done it, and the man lives up to the god label I gave him.”
“Well, then, I like him more and more.” Berkeley laughs and says, “Cheers!” She raises her glass and we all clink ours together.
Lauren adds, “Just be cautious, though. Remember, there are those manslut rumors. I don’t want my bestie getting hurt.”
“I won’t. I promise.” And I feel my words are the truth when I say them. With a huge grin, I text Ben and thank him profusely for the wine.
He answers with: I’m sure I’ll think of a way for you to thank me! Enjoy and come over after if you can.
It puts a silly grin on my face that stays there for a long time.
I have to admit, Ben Rhoades is a tough act to keep my mind off of. Even though I’m running ragged at work, he still manages to keep me smiling. Jenna and I talk several times, planning the anniversary party for his parents, which is coming up this weekend. Ben hasn’t been very involved, saying he’s leaving all the decisions up to us. Personally, I’m positive this stuff bores him. The glazed look in his eyes is the dead giveaway.
My usually energetic self is dragging lately, but I only have my sex god to blame for that. He keeps me too sleep deprived, but I won’t complain.
Friday morning, the day before the Rhoades’s anniversary party, I’m at work checking my email, when something pops up. I get a notice from a caterer for the next evening regarding an event that isn’t on my calendar. I’m sure I don’t have anything booked because I’m attending the Rhoades’s party, so I make a phone call and the caterer sends me the email with all the details and the correspondence. It has Nick’s name on it. I call Nick into my office to see if he knows anything about it.
“Yeah, I booked it.”
“But the Rhoades’s anniversary dinner is that night at Margie’s downtown. How am I supposed to be in two places at once? And since when do you book events without clearing them with me first?”
His mouth opens and closes, like a guppy desperate for air. “I … I thought Rhoades was Ben.”
Anger diffuses through me and I ball my hands into fists. It takes every ounce of control not to take a swing at him. “You what? You looked at the calendar and assumed it was a date? And even so, that’s still taking it upon yourself to book an event without clearing it with me. One, I don’t even know this client, and two, I don’t even know how to respond to this.”
Nick rubs his forehead. “It’s a rehearsal dinner.”
Now I’m even more furious, if that’s possible. “A rehearsal dinner? For a wedding?”
“Yes.”
I want to throw something. If I could pick him up, I’d toss him out the window. “Damn it, Nick! You know good and well we don’t do these types of events. Our focus is corporate, not wedding or social functions. What in the name of heaven were you thinking?”
The guilty look on his face tells me more than I care to know.
“Say it. I want you to say it to my face.”
His face flushes crimson as his eyes darken. “You’re doing an anniversary dinner. And to be honest, I wanted to keep you away from him.” His tone has become accusatory. I don’t like it one bit.
“The anniversary party is a favor, not a job, not that I need to explain that to you. And now I can’t attend because you’ve booked this rehearsal party.” I want to add, You giant fucking turd face, at the end, but my manners force me to refrain and am way proud of myself for doing so. “And haven’t we already discussed that Ben is none of your business?” I don’t give him time to answer before I launch into the event he booked. “You are working all these details out yourself for the rehearsal party. And it better go without a hitch. I’m forwarding you the email from the caterer and you’re on your own on this. In the future, everything goes through me. Am I clear?”
“Yes.”
He leaves my office and I immediately call Ben.
“Hey gorgeous. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to attend the anniversary party tomorrow. I’ll be working another function.”
“What?”
After I explain, he curses up a shitstorm.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What are you going to do about Nick the Dick?”