"What are you doing after work tonight?" you ask her, cutting off her droning.
"Huh?" Kelly asks.
"A bunch of us head to the bar next door to let off some steam right after our shift's over," you explain. "I just thought, if you're not doing anything after work, you could stop by and maybe have a drink or two with us."
Kelly's cute cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink for a second, then she frowns.
"You know I'm a very busy woman," she says. "And I'm not sure if it would be good for me as a manager to drink with my employees. But... I don't know. Maybe."
She dismisses you from her office, and you close the door shut behind you.
That night, you sit at a table at O'Reilly's Pub, eyes glued to the entrance. You've just about given up on the idea of your boss showing up. Some of your co-workers have already settled their tabs and headed out. The others are shuffling around, shooting pool, finishing off their last drinks after already deciding it's about time to head home.
Then Kelly walks in, and you realize she definitely went home to freshen up and change between clocking out at work and coming here. Her short black hair is up in a messy bun. She's wearing a little black cocktail dress and a strong perfume. Without saying a word, she's sending a message that she's done working and ready to play. The dark red lipstick she's wearing helps sell that message, too.
She locks eyes with you, smiles warmly, and slowly walks towards you. She never walks in these slow, cool strides and her hips never sway from side to side like this when she's at work. It's like she's a whole different woman.
"Is this seat taken?" Kelly asks, gesturing at the seat across from you.
"No," you insist. "We've been saving it for you."
"Hey, the boss is here!" one of your co-workers calls out as Kelly sits down. "When this guy told us he invited you, we were all betting you wouldn't show."
"Can I buy you a drink?" you ask her.
"Oh, you don't have to," Kelly insists.
"I think I should," you say. "You're my supervisor, after all. Can't miss a chance to make a good impression."
Your waitress approaches the table. She's young, gorgeous, and seemingly not very happy to see a woman suddenly sitting with you. She's looking at you and Kelly, wondering if the two of you are a couple, and if she's no longer going to get a nice tip from casually flirting with you like she has been since you got here.
She puts a hand on your shoulder anyway.
"Anything else I can get for you, sweetheart?"
"Two more of whatever he's having," Kelly says.
The way she takes the liberty of ordering for both of you seems to add to the waitress' jealousy. Kelly feeds off of that jealousy as the waitress skulks away.
"I was actually planning on leaving after I finish this one," you say, showing your boss what's left in your glass.
"But I just got here," Kelly says. "You can't just buy me a drink and not stick around and have one with me."
"We're getting ready to leave," one of your co-workers says. "Do you still need a lift home?"
"No, he doesn't," Kelly answers for you. "I'll give him a ride."
The way she fixes you with her intense, smoldering stare and her most seductive smile, it's obvious she wants you to catch on to the double meaning. You don't even look up as you say goodbye and wave to your friends. You just keep making steady eye contact with her.
You feel the toe of one of Kelly's shoes touch your ankle, and you wonder at first if it's on accident. But then the waitress returns with the whiskey sours and Kelly's massaging your lower leg with the sole of the shoe.
Kelly brusquely thanks the waitress and shoos her away. The jealousy of the other woman seems to be increasing her excitement level exponentially. She wets her lips with the whiskey, her foot still in place, and her smile gets bigger.
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