The Bar Scene
Anastasia
Okay, I accept it.
I was wrong. Jake and I never had a moment. You can't have a ‘moment’ with someone one day and lock tongues with another woman the very next day.
Stupid me of that to think that I actually had a moment with my boss.
Jake Keaton preferred sophisticated, long-legged, athletic women with model-like features and I am … not any of those things.
Not even close.
“Pass the beer,” Monique requests.
Because it is a Friday night, a handful of us from work decided to meet up in our usual bar to let off some steam. We don’t do it every week but when we do, my colleagues always turn up in impressive numbers.
Hence, the bar is filled with like fifteen to twenty of us and the sound of chatters and laughter is the only thing I can hear for hours on end.
Right now, Monique is telling a joke to the rest of the table, beer spitting from the corners of her mouth and a loopy smile on her face.
She is clearly drunk.
“. . . and you know what he said? When he was asked he said ‘hasn’t that always been there’?”
Laughter erupts around the table even though I’m sure not everyone understands the joke.
A bulky man from finance continues with his own joke and I can barely hear him over the blaring sound of music and laughter so I tune him out as I search the bar for the umpteenth time for Shawn.
Shawn said he’ll arrive in five minutes but that was twenty minutes ago.
I grab my phone and decide to shoot him a text but just then, Monique calls my name from the other end of the table.
I hold up my hand because I can't hear her over the noise and shoot a quick:“When are you getting here?” text before I ask Monique to repeat her words.
“I asked if you’ve got any boss jokes,” she beams.
The rest of the crowd turns their attention to me and I turn a bright red under the scrutiny.
“I don’t think so,” I reply.
She snorts, “You’re like a perfect student in a class full of dummies.”
Another round of laughter erupts and I don’t think I’ve ever felt stupid for being called perfect. Which I’m not by the way. If anything I’m the direct opposite.
I barely come to these things, and whenever I do so it is almost always because of Shawn and now he has gone MIA.
The conversation steers away from me and I heave a sigh of relief and sink back to being invisible as another joke comes on board.
I peer down as my phone buzzes with a message from my boss. A simple text that says;
:“Where?”
Confusion creases my brows as my eyes scans over the text. What does he even mean by —
Oh fucking crap!
I sent him the text instead of Shawn probably because I was distracted by Monique’s question and now he thinks I’m inviting him somewhere.
I correct it immediately by sending another text.
:“Wrong message. Have a nice day, boss.”
He replies immediately.
:“You didn’t answer the question, Anastasia.”
Oh geez!
:“To a bar downtown.”
:“Who were you inviting to a bar downtown?”
What the hell does he care? It was a wrong message dude, accept it, move on, eat a donut for Christ sake.
I catch a glimpse of Monique ducking under the table to burp and I roll my eyes. She straightens, catches my eyes and yells,
“You did not see that!”
Another text.
:“You’re keeping me waiting Anastasia.”
Ugh, dudddeee!
:“Shawn. I was inviting Shawn. We are having this little get together and he is supposed to be here.”
:“Who’s ‘we’?”
:“Some of the guys from work.”
:“Great. I need you out of there, Anastasia. Now.”
What? Why? And why did he think I’ll do something just because he asks me too? I mean yeah sure, that’s our everyday dynamic but we are not at work right now and he doesn’t get to tell me what to do.
:“Why?”
:“Because the last time you touched alcohol you threw up on my suit.”
I physically cringe, but fair enough.
:“I’m not planning on any alcoholic intake.” I text back.
:“Then, what are you doing in a bar?”
This is the longest we’ve ever talked through texting and the fact doesn’t escape me that he hasn’t told me off yet.
:“Hanging out.”
:“Leave Anastasia. Go home. Rest up. We’ve got a busy week next week.”
:“I don’t want to.”
:“That’s why it’s an order.”
:“It’s past my work hours sir.”
Silence for a whole minute.
:“You’re right. Would it work if it is a plea?”
He is willing to plead for me to go home? I doubt that, but I’m not willing to push it.
:“I can’t go home. The bar is quite far from my apartment and I didn’t bring my car because Shawn usually takes me home. If he doesn’t make it I might have to take the bus.”
:“Anastasia Wells, it’s too late to take the bus. Tell me where you are. I’ll send a driver.”
No freaking way.
I don’t know why Jake Keaton is being nice to me all of a sudden but I’m not about to let his driver come whip me off in front of everyone while they are already in their head about the boss and I.
Another text pops up from him.
:“Where are you Anastasia?”
I hesitate.
:“In a bar . . . downtown?”
:“Which bar downtown??”
:“You can't send the driver to pick me up sir.”
:“Why not?”
:“Because it’ll be . . . scandalous.”
Thankfully, after that last text he doesn’t text back and I can finally go back to the conversation around the table.
A lady that works in the company boutique section is telling a story about a cross-dresser who came to drop the dresses he purchased in exchange for his money because he thought they attracted too much attention.
“And I told him,” she relays, “I said – ‘dude any man dressed like a lady is bound to attract attention it’s got nothing to do with the dresses, honey,’” after the laughter subsides she continues, “’and we don’t do refunds.’”
Monique laughs the hardest because she is the drunkest. After she sobers she puzzles, “Can anybody tell why the boss is so bossy?”
When nobody answers she yells, “IT’S BECAUSE HE IS THE BOSS!”
Nobody gets the joke but she spends at least ten extra seconds crackling in laughter.
About twenty minutes passes with more office jokes and stories passing around the large table. I send more messages to Shawn but he doesn’t reply so I am forced to sit in the midst of these people sipping water and pretending like I care about their jokes. I only come to these things because of Shawn like I said, but to be honest I enjoy being here and letting go some of the work stress but today is not one of those days.
My eyes are down on my phone, waiting for a message from Shawn when all of a sudden the conversation comes to an abrupt halt around the table. My head shoots up, observing the shocked expressions on my colleagues’ face.
My back is to the door so I don’t see what they are looking at till I turn around and when I do, my expression mirrors the shocked look on their faces.
Jake Keaton is standing behind me in a casual brown slacks and a black t-shirt that rests smug on his biceps and chest doing nothing to hide the outlines of the muscles beneath.
My breath catches in my throat as he looks down at me with those dark chocolate eyes.
What the fuck is he doing here?!
He sends a nod to my shocked colleagues and taps my shoulder even though he already has all of my attention.
“Time to go, Anastasia.”
Holy mother of God, Jake Keaton will be the total and utter end of me.
Fighting him is only going to bring more attention my way so without risking a glance at the rest of my colleagues, I grab my bag and follow him out.
My whole body is stiff while we walk and I force myself to keep my head down till we get to the entrance.
Immediately we step out to the cool night air, I round up on him. “I asked you not to come.”
He keeps on walking and I have to follow suit to keep up.
“That’s not what you said.”
“I said not to send the driver.”
“Exactly.”
“Then why did you come?”
He gives me a nonchalant shrug but there’s an unmistakably amused look on his face.
“Because sending the driver would have been scandalous.”