I turn toward him. Rumpled dark hair, on the longish side. Dark eyes, strong jaw covered in five o’clock shadow, and his lips are parted in a wicked smile. Is every single one of Amelia’s coworkers so damn sexy?

“Gemma Dawson.” I give him my cocktail-free hand. “Shouldn’t wingmen be more discreet? And you’re late. I’ve already been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.”

“What conversation?” Richard throws me a mischievous smile and I turn around to see that indeed Amelia isn’t having a conversation anymore. Instead, she’s shamelessly making out with Dylan the kisser who’s living up to his name. I should probably remind her that she isn’t playing seven minutes in heaven in a private closet and that she’s in a very public bar with all her colleagues watching. I peek at the back of the bar and immediately spot Flotsam and Jetsam staring at the couple, stone-faced. The green of their envy makes them even more similar to their fishy counterparts. Maybe I should let Amelia have her fun.

I focus on Richard. “You’re right. It seems your job here is done.”

“So eager to get rid of me?”

“No, sorry. That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to be rude at all.”

“And you weren’t. You want another drink?”

“Yes, please. A martini.”

“So how do you know Amelia?” Richard asks me after ordering our drinks.

“High school. I moved here a couple of years after her.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer. You?”

“Wow, tough. I work with Amelia, same marketing agency.”

“Of course, sorry, this is supposed to be your office night. I’m the intruder. What do you do at the agency, are you in sales like Amelia?”

“No, I’m head of digital. But, really, it’s a bit of everything from client management to searching new business opportunities to managing digital delivery, and I run a tight commercial ship. I work directly with Amelia from time to time.”

“Oh, so you’re a big shot.”

“Nah, not really.” He shrugs.

Good-looking, charming, and modest.

“What do you think of these team building nights?”

“I guess some have taken their bonding more seriously than others.” He chuckles, throwing a look behind my shoulders.

“Right, I feel weird standing here while they make out. Would you mind if we moved to find a table?” I smile at Richard.

“It’s going to be difficult here, but if you want, we can go somewhere else. Our friends are not going to miss us.”

“Aw, well. I’m not really… I didn’t mean it like that. I—uh—don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s totally my fault, not yours.”

“Did you really just give me an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech five minutes after meeting me?”