“Did we have sex last night?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
If I hadn’t already known what she was going to ask, I would have had to ask her to repeat herself. Awkward.
I wrack my brains yet again, trying to think if we had sex or not. I mean she was in my bed and we’d just gotten married, so that sure implies we did. But then we were drunk enough to think getting married was a good idea and blank out our entire memories of the night, so maybe neither of us were up for more than a quick fumble before we fell asleep.
I try to imagine kissing Sierra, holding her. It brings back a brief flash of us laughing together. Dancing. I’m holding her tightly against me. But that’s in a bar somewhere. It doesn’t help me answer her question.
I realize I’ve been quiet too long and Sierra is waiting for an answer. I owe her a reply if nothing else. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know.”
“I mean I keep thinking of how we were in bed together,” she speaks again. “And then the marriage thing. It makes me think we did. But I’m not in the habit of sleeping with guys after one night.” She smiles a little. “Or marrying them.”
I return her smile and then I shake my head. “I really am sorry about this whole mess. This whole thing, Vegas, partying, strip clubs. Whatever happened between us. It’s all just… out of character for me. I—”
I stop talking when Sierra throws her head back and laughs. “I’ve worked for you for two years, Chance. We had to get married before I even felt comfortable using your first name because you’re so—so professional and detached. You don’t have to tell me this is out of character for you. No one knows that better than I do.”
I smile. Sierra is right. She knows this isn’t me, and there’s no way she’s thinking I somehow duped her into this just to have sex with her.
“There’s really no need to apologize,” she goes on. “It seems we both let our guard down a little too much. And I know I can’t remember most of the night, but from the bits I do remember, I feel like we had a damned good time. Whatever we did.”
“Sebastian always says the best nights are the ones you can’t remember.” I smile.
Sierra suddenly starts to laugh again. “I keep seeing your face this morning when you saw me in your bed. And then when you realized you were naked!” Her laughter increases.
I frown. It wasn’t funny. It was just embarrassing all round. But as I listen to Sierra laugh and see the tears running down her face as her laughter gets her completely, it hits me that actually, it was pretty damned funny, and before I know it, I’m laughing with her. “My head was so fuzzy and I couldn’t fathom out why you wouldn’t look at me.” I laugh. “It just didn’t even click that I was naked.”
“Yeah, I figured as much by the way you reacted when you did realize. You know, I told one of my friends I was coming out to Vegas for a few days and she asked if I’d be seeing any kind of strip show. I think I can well and truly tick that one off my bucket list.” She makes a tick sign in the air, still giggling.
“Yeah it puts a whole new slant on getting to know your boss a little better huh?” I grin.
“That’s for sure. I mean if I’d known this was the sort of work that was going to bring me to Vegas, I’d have packed so much differently.”
“Oh. And what would you have brought?” I realize, too late to stop myself from saying it, that I’m flirting with Sierra. I open my mouth to apologize, but instead of being offended or shocked, she just laughs.
She screws her face up while she thinks about it for a moment. “Fluffy handcuffs.” She grins. “Much nicer underwear. But the main thing – definitely a camera.”
My eyes widen.
She flushes pink and pushes her glasses up her nose, but she’s still laughing. “God, I just realized how that sounded. I wasn’t thinking that we should be making an amateur porn video or anything. I just wanted a picture of the look of absolute shock on your face this morning.” she giggles.
“I don’t think I’ll need a picture to remember that.” I grin. “I mean I know we seem to have forgotten a lot of last night, but this morning is firmly embedded in my mind.”
“Same actually.” She nods her head.
Great. Now every time my assistant looks at me, she’s going to be picturing my cock pointing at her. The thought should horrify me, but instead, I find it comical and I laugh again. “So the next time I tell you to take a night off, just remind me of that moment and tell me no.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m never, ever drinking again!” She exclaims.
I want to ask her if that means nothing would ever happen between us again, or if it just means she wouldn’t want to forget it if it did, but I do manage to catch myself in time to stop this time. What sort of a question is that? One that’s guaranteed to bring this conversation full circle and all the way back to awkward, that’s for sure. I am saved from trying to think up anything else to say when the cab begins to pull in beside the curb.
The cab driver turns the radio off. “Here we are,” he says.
As he tells me the price, my phone begins
