Page 57 of The Boss and the Wedding Mess
“But you’ve been drinking too,” she points out.
“Just one glass of champagne. Barely any alcohol in it. I couldn’t even taste it.”
“But then you’ll miss the party,” she argues.
“It’s almost over anyway.”
“People will gossip if they don’t see us anymore…” And she’s not wrong. “I’ll mingle a little longer. Once I’m sober, I’ll drive home.” At least she’s steady on her feet.
“You’re not driving anywhere tonight. It’s obvious you’ve had too much.” I step closer. “Didn’t you say this ends by 9 at the latest? I’ll call a driver to take us both home. Then I can enjoy a few more drinks. But for you, the night’s over.”
“Is that an order?” she asks, her tone carrying something that makes me believe she’s flirting with me.
“Exactly. This is a company event—you follow your boss’s instructions.”
“But you’re not my boss until Monday.”
I give her a sharp look.
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Good. I’ll come get you later. Don’t forget your bag.”
“I’ll come back for it.” London nods sweetly, then heads down the hallway. She’s still walking straight. Good.
I take a deep breath and step into my room, closing the door. Dropping onto the bed, I stare at the ceiling.
Should I have pushed her to stay? We could’ve talked. But no—I can’t let myself get caught up in this. It’s just a crazy thought, nothing more. Yes, she’s hot, and yes, the temptation to sleep with her is real. But it would destroy our working relationship—and brutally so.
Chapter 17
London
That was a close call.
I hadn’t actually had much to drink, but my cheeks burned so hot that I couldn’t think of another excuse. I just didn’t want him to believe I was blushing because of him—even though that’s exactly what was happening.
At the stairs, I pause to catch my breath. My things can stay upstairs for now; I’ll grab them before heading home for the weekend. I should rejoin the crowd anyway—and maybe grab a few more snacks. I’m still quite hungry.
It's a good hour later when I see Alexander again as I stroll near the lake. The fresh air feels good, and I let myself have a drink or two—just enough to relax but still stay in control.
I want to try something, and for that, I’ll need a little courage from the champagne.
Gradually, people start heading home. It really was a beautiful summer party—speeches, music, , entertaining performances, good food, and wonderful weather. The day couldn’t have gone any better. By just before 9, only a handful of people are left, saying their goodbyes one by one, until finally just the top executives remain.
Alexander comes over to his parents, while I’m standing next to them.
“Oh, how sweet of our son,” Mrs. Blackthorn chirps happily when I tell her Alexander has offered to drive me home.
“Do you want to take the limo?” Mr. Blackthorn asks as Alexander joins me.
“I’ll drive myself,” Alexander replies. “I only had a few sips of champagne hours ago.” He looks at me and can’t stop himself from smiling. “But you’ll be sitting properly in the passenger seat.”
“And how am I supposed to get my car back?” I ask. I can’t exactly show up to work on Monday without it.
“I’ll pick you up Monday and drive you in,” he offers.
“But I need my car over the weekend,” I counter.
