“Nope. That’s the plan for tonight.” She smirks. “I’m taking someone home, and if the pickings are slim, it’s going to be one of you two.” She looks between Zay and Rowan. With Rowan being gay, that leaves Zay as her target and she gives him a flirty smile.
“And I’m out of here.” Zay pushes himself up from my desk and walks away, mumbling something under his breath about crossing boundaries. We all laugh and Kinsley slides into the spot Zay just vacated.
“So tonight,” she says, pulling my coffee from my hand and taking a sip. “You’re in, right, Saige?”
I roll my eyes and smile. “Do I have a choice?” They never let me say no to happy hour.
“Nope.” She giggles and taps my nose, handing me my coffee back.
“Do I at least have time to go home and change?” I feign annoyance.
“No. We’re outta here at four. It’s just down the street. There are always good-looking suits in there. Suits and cheap drinks, girlfriend. That skirt you’re wearing is exactly what you need. You look hot, Saige.” She gives me a little wink.
By “suits,” she means businessmen in their suits. “I’m not looking for a man or free drinks, Kins. I’ll come for a quick drink. That’s it.”
“Drinks,” she corrects me. “We’re staying for drinks. Plural.”
I roll my eyes at her and log in to my computer.
“I’ll look out for you, kiddo.” Rowan pats the top of my head. “Until then, I’ve got work to do.” He starts walking away but turns around quickly. “Oh hey, great job on the Zamora and Dubai planes. Tonight over drinks, you’re going to have to tell us how you got those bastards to agree to anything because I was convinced we were losing those sales.”
I nod at Rowan and bite down on my lip as I fight back the smile forcing its way across my face. I’ve always prided myself on doing good work, but closing these two deals hopefully solidified the fact that I’m serious about my job at Jackson-Hamilton.
Saige
Zay opens the large wooden door to Bar 51, and we enter the dark bar. The place is packed wall-to-wall with bodies. I can barely hear myself think over the roars of laughter and loud conversation that fills the air.
“Holy shit,” I mumble as Zay grabs my wrist, and we wind through the human sea. Tall pub tables are surrounded with people that chatter away and laugh, enjoying Friday night’s happy hour festivities.
“Over there,” Zay announces. I glance to where he’s pointing and find Kinsley waving her hands in the air to get our attention.
“’Bout time you assholes got here,” she chides and pulls her purse off a chair she was saving for me.
I slide into the tall chair and look around the packed bar. Leaning in, I holler across the table, “This place is insane.”
“I know,” Kinsley responds, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “They opened about six months ago. It’s the ‘it’ place to be on a Friday night. Drink specials until close.” She lifts a martini glass full of pink liquid and takes a sip.
“What’re you drinking?” I ask. Whatever it is looks delicious with a raspberry floating on top and a twist of lemon peel perched on the rim.
“Sex on the beach. It’s good. Want to try it?” She shoves the glass in my face, and I take a little sip.
“It’s really sweet . . . and strong.” I lick my lips and give my head a little shake.
“What do you want to drink, Saige?” Rowan asks. “I’ll get this round.”
“Umm, let’s try a vodka-cranberry. And a large ice water, please.”
“Pussy,” Kinsley mumbles, then starts laughing. “Just kidding. Ease into it, kid.” She calls me “kid” as if I’m ten years younger than she is, and I can’t help but laugh at her. “I’ll have another one of these.” She lifts her glass to Rowan, and he nods.
“Since our waitress hasn’t been by, I’m just going to get them from the bar,” he says before disappearing into the dimly lit space.
I’ve been here six weeks, and I’ve been somewhat of a homebody, only wandering out to explore the city for a few hours during the day on the weekends, except for the occasional happy hour with my coworkers.
The city seems larger than I remember, but I only ever explored with my mom a handful of times before we moved back to North Dakota. Millennium Park and Navy Pier, although touristy, were my favorites as a child and they still are. But I have yet to experience the nightlife Chicago has to offer.
Evelyn, my roommate, is a nurse, and she works the night shift at Rush University Medical Center. With her being the only other person I know in Chicago, my evenings have been limited to watching marathons of Property Brothers and House Hunters instead of wearing slutty dresses and traipsing through every chic club.
“Where’s Emery?” I ask, noticing her sweater and purse on another chair, but no sign of our sweet hippie friend anywhere nearby.
“No idea,” Kinsley says, sipping her drink. “She dropped her shit and disappeared.”
Zay snags an open chair from another table and squeezes it into the small space between Kinsley and me just as Rowan returns, juggling four drinks in his hands.