Sam stole the napkin from my clutch. “How about we skip dessert and I’ll take you home to sleep it off?”
I nodded. Definitely an excellent idea.
“Wait here.” He pushed back his chair to stand up. Began strutting towards the host’s desk with his usual cool stride.
And just like that, this man managed to astonish me yet again. How could he walk through this packed restaurant with that overflowing level of confidence, knowing how ridiculous he must have looked? It should have been a walk of shame. But not for Sam. He was more like basking in the attention from anyone who were side-glancing at the obvious splatter contrasted on the grey fabric over his crotch. Of course, he wouldn’t mind. He must know that he looked like the perfect model to inspire a nude sculpture of a flawless man.
When Sam returned to our table, I stood from my seat. Not too fast. I planted a hand firmly on the table for support.
Sam held out his coat to me. “Put this on. It’s cold outside.” He clasps my wrist to guide my arm into the coat. Then my other arm. “Come on. Let’s go.” As ever the gentleman, Sam retrieved my bag for me and offered his arm to hold on to.
Oh and did I accept it gladly. I could barely stand steady on my own two feet. My arm wound tightly around his and I leaned on him all the way towards the exit. Through my hazy gaze, I made out a few heads turning in our direction. How could they not? In that fancy place full of the rich and mighty, Sam and I were an eyeful. Him and his wet crotch. Me and my sloshed state.
Once outside, Sam pressed softly on the hand I had clutched on the crook of his arm. “Hey, will you be alright to wait here while I go get the car around?” He attempted to lift my hand slowly off him but I held on tighter.
“If you let me go, I’d fall.”
Sam laughed. “Alright, sunshine. Not letting you go.” He rubbed his warm palm on my hand, reassuring he wouldn’t. “Can you walk then? Car’s not parked too far from here.”
“Mhm. I just need to…” I bent down to reach the strap on my sandals with my free hand.
Sam quickly tugged me back up to my feet. “Oh, no, no, no. You’re not losing the shoes, Cinderella. Hold this.” He handed me the clutch bag and in a second, one arm swept behind my knees, the other around my back and I was hoisted up in his arms like a baby. An adult-sized, drunken baby.
“I’m in your arms. You shouldn’t hold me like this.” Still, I wrapped my arms tight around his neck.
“Why? Because I’m your boss?”
“Because it’s embarrassing.”
“More embarrassing than when you touched my dick?” His glance at me was accompanied by a wicked grin.
“Too bold, Mr Webb. Too bold.” I nuzzled my head into his neck and allowed my droopy eyelid to shut for a second.
Gosh, he was so comfortable. Like a feather pillow. And he was so warm. And smelled so good. And he was…
“Hey, we’re here.” Sam’s voice startled me.
One look around and I realized I was sitting in his car. A peek out the window and I saw my crappy rental car. Seemed like I took a nap long enough to be unaware of Sam driving us back to my car. And oh, shit. How did he transfer me from his arms into the passenger seat without waking me up?
Well done, Lucy. You had unintentionally bossed your boss.
I brushed off the hair glued to my face and to the remaining traces of my lip gloss. Like in a rush, I opened the clutch bag lying on my lap to fish out my car keys. “I should go.”
Sam reached over. Stole the keys from between my fingers. “I did not bring you here to let you drive home. I drove here because I assumed this must be close to your home. You dozed off before telling me where you live. Give me your address. I’ll drive you.”
“No,” I said a little too quickly. “You can’t. If Joe sees you, he will be so angry. He’ll probably think you got me drunk on purpose. He really hates you.”
“The fuck do I care what Joe thinks. I’m not letting you drive. You designated me as your chauffeur tonight, remember? Now you’re getting the golden service.”
I rubbed a hand over my face as if that would have brought me back to complete sobriety. My head felt so heavy. “It’s fine. I’ll sleep in my car for an hour and I’l be good to go.”
“I’m not comfortable just letting you sleep in your car alone either. Why don’t we talk a while, give you some time to sober up?”
“It’s okay. My car seats are comfier than your leather ones anyway.”
Sam smiled at my yet another jab at his beloved car. “How about I wait with you in your car then?”
“Thank you for dinner. And sorry about your pants.”