Say Please

Dinner and a Show

After another hour, I approved of my decently curled hair and simple makeup. I threw on a simple, v-line dress the color of a peach and white sandals that were comfortable enough for me to walk in. As I entered our shared space, I saw Chan glance up from his phone.

"Ready?" He asked me, eyes fixed on the hem of my dress.

"Maybe you should ask me, not my thighs," I jested, relaxing a little.

"Now what fun would that be?" He grinned in return. He stood and motioned for me to take his arm. "Shall we, my lady?" I rolled my eyes and wrapped my hand around the inside of his forearm. The thin fabric of his shirt choice allowed me to feel the slight raise of his veins as we walked.

"This dinner seems like it'll be fun," I started, deciding small talk was needed on our long walk to the convention center.

"It'll be fun if there's a bar," Chan laughed, "the last time I was at something like this the opening night was just a bunch of seasoned authors bragging about how successful they are. Nothing had to do with the publishing companies. I will require a few drinks if that's what this year will be like."

"You don't love to listen to them?" I asked earnestly.

"Not when they are all assholes. None of them are humble or give credit to anyone other than themselves."

——

Just has Chan had mentioned, all the speakers on the list for tonight were well known authors of various genres—no doubt here to inspire us. We were seated at a table near the back, thankfully, and the open bar was only a few steps away. Before we could even get settled in our seats, Chan ordered both of us fancy drinks I didn't know the name of.

"Madam," he gestured, handing me the teal liquid. "Drink up."

I did as he commanded, and enjoyed the sweet and tart mix as the alcohol swirled around my mouth. We sat next to each other at the round table, and were paired with four older men from a publishing house in Kentucky. They seemed more interested in the table in front of us than Chan and I. I savored the last drops of my first drink before standing.

"My turn to pick our drinks," I smirked. His eyes were light.

I returned with two vodka lemonades—my personal favorite—that had hibiscus syrup mixed in. The lavender-colored liquid had Chan's curiosity peaked. He took a sip and grinned.

"You know I actually love hibiscus."

"I'm surprised you could guess the flavor so fast. Most people just spit it out. I love the floral flavor mixed with the tartness of the lemon." His eyes watched me intently—like he was actually listening. He wasn't listening because he had to, it felt like he was listening because he wanted to. The flutters in my heart were unstoppable.

Dinner was served at two minutes past six: chili lime shrimp with an assortment of fresh greens. I devoured mine—not realizing that my traveling had paused any filling meals in the day thus far. I could already feel the drinks trickling through my system. I knew if I had any intention to continue the night, food was a must. Chan seemed to delight in his dinner as well. He made exaggerated groans and kissed his fingers as he took small bites. Our older table mates were unamused, but I couldn't help but laugh at his theatricality.

"Who's the first speaker?" I whispered to him as the lights dimmed—signaling the beginning of our night.

"Some author of a romance trilogy," he scoffed. "I'm extremely interested to hear how she is going to somehow bring together vivid sex scenes and hot hot muscles to inspire us." I let out a bellowing laugh, eliciting a sharp glare from the older woman next to me.

"I hope it involves her reading an excerpt from her book," I giggled. "Can't wait to hear about whoever's member..." I blushed at my bluntness. Chan didn't seem to mind. He leaned back in his seat, stretching his arm out across the back of my chair. I stiffened slightly at the nearness of him, but kept my gaze on the stage, where a young, red head was discussing what inspired her to write.

As I shifted slightly, my upper spine grazed the pads of Chan's fingers. The contact sent a shockwave through my body—but I did not move away. Instead, I leaned into the electricity that pulsed between him and I's skin. Although neither of our faces gave it away, I knew he felt the current too—at least I hoped he did.

My mind was fuzzy—all thoughts empty except for the sensation of Chan's thumb sweeping lazy arches across my spine. Each caress sent a flash of heat to my core. I felt the heat of my cheeks increase, and I knew it wasn't the alcohol.

——

Three speakers and two more cocktails down, we were greeted by the emcee of the night once more. He thanked us all for making the journey out here and promised a weekend that wasn't only work, but a bit of play as well. Chan's hand did not stop its playful strokes on my body the entire affair, nor did I make any move to stop it. It had been so long since anyone had touched me like that. Mark was never one for public displays of affection, so this realm was new to me. And what's more, I think I liked it.

Our complimentary goodie bags contained stationary with a "special surprise underneath" as our host put it: the special surprise being three shots of fireball. Again, wild.

"I think we could make this less intense with some cider packets I saw in the kitchen," Chan shrugged.

"I'm so down," I half-laughed. "Just as a warning beer pong Skye might come out later." My warning was met with an inquisitive brow.

"You don't say? Well, how could I say no to that?"

We stood and began our walk back to our hotel, laughing with each other as we commented on the pedestrians that lined the streets—some old, some young, some reserved, some eccentric. My arm wrapped in his once more, although this time it felt natural. It felt like we were on a date. I quickly shook the thought away, cursing my tipsy subconscious for even thinking about it.

Yes, I wanted it—almost needed it at this point. But what if something bad were to come from it? What if we didn't click like I thought we did? I loved this new company, and didn't want to jeopardize my place and the work cohort I was in.

Lost in thought, I didn't really come to until we were in the elevator on the way up to our place. I let my arm drop to my side and smoothed my dress. The doors opened and we turned toward the suite.

"What do you want to do while we drink? I know that's the plan, but I'm trying to figure out the vibe," Chan mentioned as we tapped the key to the door.

"You mean you're asking me what I do alone in my house when I'm drinking by myself?" I winked. "I don't normally drink other than parties. But in my college years with friends we would listen to music and play question games on our phones. Stupid, but entertaining."

"Oh?" He questioned. "What do you mean by question games?"

"It's like a random question generator, so you never know what kind of question you'll get. It could ask you what your favorite day of the year is, or ask you what you deepest regret in life is. And all of those in-between," I shrugged.

"That sounds like a plan," Chan said as he turned toward the kitchen. "You pick some music. I'll get drinks ready."