"So what is this speech of yours?" I asked, reaching for a date to keep my fingers from playing with the buttons of my vest. "And why are you running away from it?"
Michael took another swig and handed the bottle back over. He straightened the bow of his shoelaces before looking up at me. "I guess since we're only going to know each other for the next ten minutes or so, I might as well be honest with you."
I shrugged. "You'll never see me again in your life," I said. "Might as well."
The man flicked an invisible speck of dust off the tailored hem of his dark grey slacks. "Plus I'm a little drunk," he admitted.
I grinned as I tipped back the bottle of wine.
"And I'm never honest," he continued.
"I probably won't remember a single thing you tell me tomorrow," I reassured him.
He nodded and then was quiet for just a minute longer. "The speech is for a big promotion that I just got," he finally said. "The truth is I'm not really sure I want it anymore."
I plopped a date into my mouth and passed the bottle of wine back to him. "What do you want?" I asked.
The man took a long drink of wine. He laughed darkly. "That's the thing," he said. "I want to want it—the promotion, the success, the money, the reputation." He passed over the bottle.
"Why?" I asked.
At my question, he snatched back the bottle, held up a finger, and chugged half of what was remaining. He wiped his red-stained lips and blurted out, "Because who am I without it? How are the dates?"
I took back the bottle, studying the man's face as he grabbed a date.
"Do you do this often?" Michael asked, clearly wanting to change the subject. "When you get caught sneaking into linen closets, that is?"
I grinned. "You mean lure attractive men inside and pry out their deepest, darkest secrets that make them turn red in the cheeks and nearly choke on their bacon-wrapped dates?"
He blushed and shifted uncomfortably. I found it…charming. It was like peeking behind a stern, grey, unmoving wall to see a field of wildflowers. It made me wonder what it would feel like to walk amongst those flowers. And why the stern, grey, unmoving wall was there in the first place.
Glowering at me, Michael reached out his hand for the quickly emptying bottle of wine and said, "I mean distract them from what they should be doing. You're like a siren."
"Hey, you crashed your boat willingly, sailor."
His eyes flashed like a strike of lightning across the small space. I could feel the tingle of electricity in my fingers and toes, feel the static in my hair.
"Maybe," he said.
The wine passed between us once more.
"Since we're being drunk and stupid—"
"Don't you mean drunk and honest?" he said.
"Aren't they the same thing?" I laughed. "Since we're being drunk and stupid," I continued, "this is actually the first time I've been caught…'borrowing' things."
Michael raised an amused eyebrow. "You plan on giving this wine back?"
"Hey, you're drinking it, too," I argued.
He laughed, and it was loud and glorious. It was the first time I sensed he was holding nothing back, reserving nothing, keeping nothing safe and tucked away.
"This is my party!" he said.
"Fine, fine, fine," I said, holding up my hands. "This is the first time I've been caught accepting charity, we'll say."
"Bullshite."
I shook my head. "Nobody ever sees me," I insisted. "Wearing these clothes, nobody even gives me a second glance."
"What about your eyes?"
His question made me pause, nearly empty wine bottle halfway to my lips. "What do you mean?"
Michael's legs were relaxed now, folded in front of him like mine; our knees were touching. He held my gaze as he leaned forward slightly.
"How do you cover your eyes?" he said. "Because I can't imagine anyone would forget them once they'd seen them, even if just for a second."
My voice was small and uncertain as I tried to laugh and say, "You're drunk."
The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly. "Maybe I should be drunk more often."
I licked my lips and hesitated for just a moment before saying, "Maybe we should go get drunker right now." I dangled the empty bottle between us. "We're out."
Michael glanced at the bottle and then at me. "Like we should go out?" he asked. "That's probably a mistake."
I nodded in agreement. "Probably."
"Probably a terrible mistake," he added, drumming his fingers over his knees, which were touching mine.
"Probably the worst mistake of your life."
He nodded, fingers tapping. "It'll probably ruin my career."
"Definitely."
"Tank my pension scheme."
"Oh, absolutely."
"Drive any chance of future employment straight into the ground."
"You'll be lucky if you get hired at a convenience store after tonight."
I watched as Michael straightened his already straight tie. "It'll be quite the mess."
"Quite."
His green eyes were bright when he looked up at me. "Let's do it."
We hurried to our feet, both afraid the moment might slip away if we didn't move fast. My hand was on the door handle when he placed a hand on my arm.
"Just one thing," he said before I opened the door. "I have work in the morning."
"Oh, no problem," I said, smiling over my shoulder at him. "We'll just have one drink."
I reached for the handle, only to pause once more.
"Two at the most."
Michael
I startled awake to a piercing ray of sunshine, a throbbing headache, and something cold and metallic poking at my chest. Peeking open one eyelid halfway was about all I could manage.
"Eh, get
