If You Dare(3)

By: Evelyn Troy

Zoe finished her fourth drink and then glanced around the bar before touching a finger to her nose. Okay, she could still feel it, just. So she wasn’t completely off her face yet. Maybe one more drink and then she’d make her way home. The ‘one more’ turned into three more, by which time it wasn’t just Zoe’s nose that was numb; her whole face was. She was more than a little tipsy but still sober enough to realize that enough was enough and she needed to go home.

Her good intentions didn’t last long though. As she was walking towards the door to leave, a man who had been eyeing her up the whole time she’d been there stopped Zoe. She hadn’t noticed him, of course, because if she had she would have avoided him like the plague. As it was, the fact that she was three sheets to the wind meant that she found him totally irresistible, so when he asked her if she wanted to dance she eagerly dragged him off to the small but adequate dance floor.

Zoe lost track of time as she boogied her way through numerous songs, and even a couple of slow dances with the man whose name she had already forgotten. When he tried to cop a feel of her ass she merely slapped his hand away and wagged a finger playfully at him. “Naughty, naughty.” At least that’s what Zoe thought she said, but in her drunken state it probably sounded like complete gibberish.

The man gave up after a while and walked off the dance floor, leaving her to dance alone. Zoe didn’t care; she was having a blast and didn’t even notice that she was on her own until three songs later, at which point she just shrugged her shoulders and danced through another four.

Eventually she realized that she was tired and remembered that she had been about to leave almost an hour ago. “Zoe, you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your bloody neck,” she mumbled to herself, as she finally left the bar.

It was a beautifully warm evening, so rather than call for a taxi from the bar, Zoe decided to walk to her car to check on it first and then call a cab from the parking lot. She’d just walked past the building where she worked when a thought struck her. Checking her watch she nodded to herself and changed the direction of her steps, walking back into the building and making her way to the office.

Zoe knew that Dawson would still be working because he always went home late. And if he did happen to have one of his ‘lady friends’ ensconced in his office with him; well tough luck. If he wouldn’t give her a chance to resign during office hours, she’d make damn sure that he would now. The walk had sobered her up a little but she was still pleasantly buzzed and feeling invincible because of it, which in hindsight wasn’t a good thing. Not at all.

She walked with what she assumed was a normal stride, and would have been mortified if she could have seen herself wobbling just a little as she went. As expected, Dawson’s door was still firmly closed but she wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop her. She gave a brisk knock and then opened the door without waiting for a response from him, completely forgetting that he could possibly have been partaking in some extra-curricular activities until she’d entered the room, but by then it would have been too late anyway.


Chapter Two


Dawson looked up from his desk in surprise, a scowl quickly forming on his handsome face when he saw who had interrupted him. “Zoe! What are you doing here at this time of night?” Zoe felt her hackles rise at his obvious chagrin at seeing her. Was she really that bad? “Did you forget something?”

“No, I didn’t forget anything.” Her voice was more terse than usual, and his frown deepened. “But I really needed to talk to you today and seeing how you couldn’t make time during office hours, well, here I am.” Zoe couldn’t have known how cute she looked when she nodded her head emphatically on the last word and planted her hands on her hips; almost as though she were adding a mental exclamation mark at the end of her sentence. Standing there Zoe looked like an angry mother about to scold her wayward child.

If she had been stone cold sober she would have noticed that Dawson was trying his level best not to laugh at her. Thankfully, she was more than a little tipsy and his smirk went sailing past her on a cloud of vodka fumes.

Also By Evelyn Troy

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