Page 11 of Not My Finest Hour

ChapterFive

Ifeel so out of place here. This seminar is full of a bunch of professionals whose credentials are so numerous, they barely fit on one nametag. But I guess anything will fit on a nametag if it’s printed small enough, as evidenced by the woman I just met. Her credentials—surgeon thisandprofessor that—were printed so small, I couldn’t read them from where I was standing. And my eyesight is pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. Those eyesight tests you do in the doctor’s office? Yeah, I always ace those.

And then there was the guy I met earlier, who had so many letters behind his name, I swear half of them were made up. He didn’t even try to hide his disdain when he met me.Three timesduring our conversation he asked me where I was from. The first time he asked me, I thought he genuinely didn’t hear me introduce myself, so I repeated it. “I’m Dahlia, a receptionist for Dr. Kim Waters, a chiropractor with Evergreen Chiropractic Care. She had a previous engagement and asked me to fill in.” But when he asked me again, shortly after I got done saying it, I knew something was up. But not to make a scene, I repeated myself, giving him a shortened version. “I’m Dahlia with Evergreen Chiropractic Care.” But then the third time, I knew he was just being a dick because someone who is that smart should be able to remember a conversation as brief as ours. That’s when I walked away and went to the bar to grab a drink, which, I’ve determined, is the only way I’m going to make it through this evening.

As if all that wasn’t bad enough, I chose the wrong outfit for this. I wasn’t aware that every single female in this room owns a powerful pantsuit and decided to wear it tonight. I look like an idiot in my cute, flouncy floral skirt and yellow sweater. What the hell was I thinking?

I ask the bartender for another beer, knowing full well that my beverage choice shows my lack of sophistication. Everyone else here is probably having an old fashioned, a Manhattan, or whatever the hell smart people drink. That’s fine. I still have a job to do, and I need to keep a level head, so I’m sticking with beer. But I’m already on my second one, so these presentations everyone is waiting for need to hurry up and happen, otherwise Kim might not be getting the most coherent notes tomorrow. Does an event like this really need an hour of cocktails? What are people supposed to talk about all that time?

Beside me, a man wearing a plaid button-down shirt and navy tie orders a vodka gimlet and a beer, then takes both over to a corner of the room and sets them down on a table. I follow the man with my gaze because I want to see who might be the only other beer drinker in this room besides me. Are they underdressed for this event too?

No freakin’ way.

My night just got a whole heck of a lot better because the other beer drinker turns to accept his drink and it’s none other than the man I slept with just a few nights ago. The one who broke my dry spell and made me feel like I’m worthy of another man’s attention. It’s fitting that it’s Justin and makes me feel like we’re kindred spirits. I have to go over and say hello.

I stride across the room, a little pep in my step now that I know someone here. I’m halfway there when Justin meets my gaze, and…am I seeing things correctly? Did he really just turn away from me? That can’t be. The guy who texted me almost immediately after dropping me off wouldn’t turn away from me. Would he?

“Justin, hi. How are you?” I say once I reach the table where he’s standing.

Justin’s lips barely turn up, and he looks like he wants to disappear from this space.

Justin’s companion, however, smiles politely at me, then reaches his hand out to shake mine. “Hi, there. I’m Wesley Bennett. Justin and I went to med school together. And you are?”

I notice from Wesley’s name tag that he politely left the fact that he’s a doctor out of the introduction. Maybe he saw my name tag and the lack of credentials and didn’t want to come across as pompous. A nice touch. I reach out my hand to his. “I’m Dahlia, a receptionist at Evergreen Chiropractic Care. My boss asked me to fill in for her tonight since she had a previous engagement.”

Wesley’s eyes brighten behind his square-framed glasses. “You work for Kim? She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I bet she’s a great boss to have.”

I nod in agreement. “She’s the best boss I’ve ever had. I’m lucky I get to work for her.”

“That’s good to hear. She helped me out with some back issues I had during my first couple years of residency. All the disjointed sleep I was getting was screwing up my back, and Kim helped straighten me out.” Wesley brushes his hand across his lower back like he can still remember the pain. “I don’t remember seeing you there, although ithasbeen a while since I was there last.”

“I’ve only been working for her for the last eighteen months,” I reply.

Wesley takes a sip of his drink, then looks between Justin and me. “And how do you know Justin?”

I look at Justin because I don’t know how to answer that question. Something tells me that blurting out, “We slept together,” wouldn’t be appropriate here. And I don’t know how close he and Wesley are. Maybe they barely know each other and only bumped into each other here by chance, so he doesn’t want Wesley to know everything about his life. Wesley certainly wasn’t the guy at the bar with Justin when we first met, so at least we don’t have to worry about him making a connection between us.

“Dahlia and I met through a friend the other day,” Justin says, finally speaking up.

I nod along because that seems like a perfectly plausible explanation. If that’s the story he wants to run with, I’m all for it. “Yeah, so when I saw him here, I had to say hello again,” I say, smiling brightly.

“How funny that you two would see each other again…here of all places. Small world,” Wesley says.

“Indeed,” I say in agreement.

“Wesley, would you excuse us? I want to talk to Dahlia about some things we touched on the other day,” Justin says, cupping my arm with his hand.

“Absolutely. I want to go and say hi to one of my old professors anyway. Dahlia, it was lovely to meet you, and I hope this isn’t the last we see of each other,” Wesley says.

He’s flirting with me. Wesley is flirting with me and likely has been the whole time, but I’m so out of practice I didn’t pick up on it. I’m flattered because Wesley isn’t bad-looking. Chin-length, wavy brown hair, trim physique. He’s no Justin, but he’s not bad. It’s amazing that now that I’m not saving myself for Alain anymore, I’m able to pick up on these things.God.How many other men have I bypassed because of Alain?

Wesley vacates the area, and Justin and I leave the table, leaving our beers behind which makes my heartbeat quicken. Is he taking me to the bathroom because he can’t wait to have me again? Iamwearing a skirt, so it wouldn’t be that hard to make it happen, although Justin’s dress pants and button-down shirt might be more challenging to navigate around.

Alas, no. That’s not where we go. Instead, Justin takes me to a corner of the room, far out of earshot of everyone else.

“What are you doing here?” he whispers to me. But it’s more of an angry whisper, and not at all the reaction I was hoping for.

“Is that really the best you can offer me? Maybe ahelloorit’s nice to see youwould be better.” Just to show my irritation, I throw a hand on my hip. Justin doesn’t look impressed, and waits for me to continue. “I’m filling in for my boss who asked me to take notes for her. Didn’t you hear me earlier?”

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