Page 7 of Falling Madly
I’d heard stories of Gavin Buckland and his crypto millions (we called him Crypto-Gavin), but it was fun to see it with my own eyes. He’d invited the entire creative team to his Fourth of July gathering. Maybe he hadn’t expected everyone to show up, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity, and it seemed neither could anyone else.
I was gunning for the lead designer role on the crypto game creative team, which meant sucking up to him and his minions.Not that I was succeeding at that. Sucking up didn’t come naturally to me.
I waved at a couple of colleagues, who looked as baffled as I felt surrounded by the huge, opulently decorated apartment featuring multiple seating areas and the nighttime panorama of Denver. Seeing familiar people relaxed me a bit, but my eyes scanned across the drinks and nibbles, searching for Trevor. I didn’t even question it. Being near him relaxed me more than anything else, and I needed to chill.
After a moment of searching, I spotted his broad shoulders out on the balcony. Dark hair curled on his neck and the cigarette burned in his hand like a tiny red beacon, pulling me closer. Underneath the beard, I imagined he looked like James Dean. A handsome legend. But I kind of preferred him with the beard—a forest ranger version of a movie star with striking blue-green eyes framed by dark lashes, his slanted, sexy smile partially hiding behind the scruff. Like he couldn’t care less, yet always brought his unshakable calm and disarming wit. An ego that gave everyone else enough space without curling in on itself.
This must have been Denver’s tallest building. An occasional firework pierced the sky, countless parties in progress around us. The heat of the day still lingered in the air and the wooden banister felt warm to my touch. He smiled, his eyes lighting up. They were usually so relaxed he looked almost sleepy, entirely unaffected by the drama around him.
His beard looked freshly trimmed, and I gently scoffed at his vintageOne DirectionT-shirt. I knew he wore it to taunt me. You should never reveal your childhood crushes to anyone.
“Happy Fourth of July!” He offered me a cigarette.
“Thanks. How was Charlie’s meeting?”
We’d been dancing around this attraction for weeks, but it felt safer to talk about work. I was also desperate to find out about this one job—I’d put everything into designing conceptsfor the crypto game, and I needed to know if Charlie had presented any of my work to the client.
Trevor leaned on the banister, gazing at the city lights flickering below us. “Heard it went well, aye,” he said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Do ye really want to talk about work?”
I did, but it didn’t seem like the right answer. “I guess not.”
“Have ye met Crypto-Gavin yet?”
“No. Where is he?” I glanced over my shoulder, trying to remember what the guy looked like. I’d seen his picture on the website, but only Trevor and Charlie had met him. Charlie was the boss’s son and met everyone. Trevor was a copywriter, which didn’t give him a high status, but as Charlie’s sidekick, he was always there. Not that I was jealous, I told myself. Just a little frustrated.
What would it take for me to be invited into a meeting one day?
“That crypto game might crash and burn, you know.” Trevor’s voice held a warning.
“But if it doesn’t…”
He gazed at the dark horizon. “Then it’ll be an exception.”
“I heard that our team could get tokens. Is that true?”
He shrugged. “I always felt fireworks were for winter. Not when it’s hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement.”
I felt like he was keeping something from me, but he seemed so pessimistic I decided to drop the subject. I wanted to believe it was possible.
The faint sound of my favorite song drifted in through the open glass doors. It was by an underground indie band and hardly ever on anyone’s playlist. I finished my cigarette and wandered back inside. If Trevor was going to sulk and shit on my dreams, he could stay where he was. We were just flirting. I owed him nothing.
I spotted Charlie amongst the partygoers, surrounded by three blondes. He offered me an unsure smile and I veered toward the bar. Me and Charlie didn’t mix that well, so it was best I stayed away. I grabbed one of the red, white and blue cocktails set out on a tray and downed it too fast. It must have been pure vodka and food coloring.
I hated flirting at work, no matter how well it might have served me in certain situations. I wanted to impress people, not lead them on or stroke their egos. For the sake of my career, I should have occasionally positioned myself in the vicinity of Charlie and the gang to nod and smile at their jokes. I should have giggled and looked at them with starry-eyed adoration. But there was something wrong with my brain, and I couldn’t flirt without genuine interest. And that’s why I only flirted with Trevor.
I grabbed a second drink and looked for another familiar face, someone I could talk to. The crowd was more friend-of-a-friend than close acquaintance. The one colleague I truly liked, Bess, was home with her daughter. She hardly ever made it to parties. I should have put more effort into befriending my colleagues, but George kept hiring and firing temps with such frequency it felt pointless. Plus, I’d recently caught two newbies making fun of Bess behind her back and didn’t feel like knowing any of them that closely. People like that were not worth my time.
I saw a curly-haired woman who I’d talked to at a couple of industry events and tried to recall her name. When it finally came to me—Angie—she was pulled away by someone and a man I’d never seen before appeared in front of me.
He was clean-shaven and had too much product in his stiff hair, but I liked the way he smiled. Confident and friendly, with a hint of nerves. “Hi! I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Kyle.”
He offered his hand, which hardly anyone did at these casual cocktail parties, and I took it. “Teresa.”
“You’re from Wilde Creative, right?”
“Yes. And you are from…”
“XYZ.”
