I smirked.
“See, I don’t get it. Why do you always have to be so conventional?” She emphasized the word like it was a bad thing. “You don’t slack off at work. You don’t sleep around for the sake of it. You’re just—” She waved her hand in the air, looking for the right word.
“Dull?” I prompted, smiling.
“Responsible.”
My smile turned bitter as I looked away. She had asked me the same question many times during our friendship. I always avoided giving her an answer because I knew she wouldn’t understand. No one would. The world didn’t like to hear about that part of my life. Luckily Sylvie knew me well enough not to press the issue.
“Let’s have another drink,” Sylvie said. “Knowing you it’ll be a brief stint, so I say we make the best of it.”
I hated to shatter her alcohol-fueled dreams, but someone had to do it. I owed it to mankind. “I wasn’t sacked. James signed the company over to Mayfield Realties, and Mayfield promoted me to senior assistant. I’m leaving for Italy tomorrow.”
“Hell, no.” Sylvie’s jaw dropped. For a moment she looked disappointed, until she realized as my best friend she was supposed to be happy for me. “Yay! Well done, you.” She didn’t mean one single half-hearted word of it. Her expression was as enthusiastic as a salmon about to be fished out of the water.
“Save it. Gee, you’re pathetic.” I rolled my eyes and snorted. “You’d rather have me home with you, picking up guys and getting to bed when others wake up for work.”
She laughed that tinkling laughter of hers that only managed to confirm my suspicion. “A promotion is almost as good as running around in PJs all day long. This calls for a celebration. Vixen’s in half an hour?”
“It’s four p.m.”
“You’re right. It’s getting kind of late. Let’s make it ten minutes.”
I stared after her open-mouthed as she grabbed a handful of stuff from her wardrobe and headed for the bathroom to change.
CHAPTER FIVE
To call Sylvie’s patch of fabric a skirt was an offense to whoever invented the skirt. It was nothing more than an over-sized belt and barely covered her modesty, let alone provide any protection from the cold and damp New York air. I tried my best to persuade her to wear something else, something with more length, but she wouldn’t have it. So I clamped my mouth shut and let her dress in the clothes—or lack thereof—of her choice.
She downed a glass of red wine before we even left the apartment, then another as soon as we hit Vixen’s. By the time our usual clique arrived a few hours later, we were both intoxicated and having a good time slagging off Sylvie’s ex. I didn’t see the mop of dark hair and green eyes until Sylvie pointed, slurring, “Isn’t that your guy?”
“What?”
“You know, your plan cul. Bed candy. Fuck buddy.” She collapsed in a fit of laughter.
Oh, gosh.
If it was him I could only hope he couldn’t lip-read. My vision blurred as I turned my head. I narrowed my eyes to focus, but the only things I caught were broad shoulders and a strong back heading straight for the door.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re so drunk you’d mistake Bruce Willis for a girl.”
“Who?”
She seemed genuinely confused, so I mumbled, “Never mind” as I waved my hand and signaled the bartender to get us another round of shots. That sparked instant recognition.
“You’re the best girlfriend in the world,” Sylvie slurred, and placed a wet smooch on my cheek.
I forced another shot down my throat, then another. The room began to spin until it looked like a giant merry-go-round of laughing people, clinking glasses, and ear splitting music. Something about a job and a new boss briefly popped up at the back of my mind, but it all got lost in the alcohol-induced sense of freedom that was beginning to wash over me. I felt as though I had no care in the world, and I intended to keep it that way until strong arms wrapped around me, and I was tucked into something warm and fluffy. I opened my eyes to peer into the most electrifying green gaze reflecting a dark puddle of annoyance.
“You have the most gorgeous eyes. I could stare into them forever,” I mumbled giggling.
And then I passed out.
CHAPTER SIX
I wasn’t a wallflower when it came to partying and having a good time, but I didn’t usually have more than two glasses. So two nights in a row drinking my head off with Sylvie hadn’t been a wise decision. I opened my eyes groggily and blinked against the bright sun spilling through the window.
Good grief.