The ten of us were all huddled, comfortably, around a cluster of small circular tables in the back corner of the very crowded and lively Bemelmans Bar. It was probably the only bar in New York City that hadn't changed in almost a century. It even had the same mural along all the walls that were created back in the late 1940s. The images were of cartoon-like animals dressed as proper, 1800s socialites enjoying Central Park.

The three-member light-jazz band was playing in the middle of the crowded room. Though I could feel the music vibrating off of the leather bench I sat against, it wasn't so loud that we couldn't hear each other talk.

I was rather impressed with how much Mr. Gima and his colleagues could drink and still be as calm and collected as they were. Adam used the company's card to keep the rounds of whiskey, mixed drinks, and beer coming. As usual, I stuck with my trusted Manhattan Sunset. Though, I made sure to secretly get a non-alcoholic equivalent to it after I finished my first one.

As much as I would have liked to try to keep up with everyone else, I knew I had another presentation with our second potential client the next day.

Even though they were all clearly drunk, business was still discussed. But as the night went on and the drinks kept flowing, Mr. Gima or one of his partners would have the translator, Daisuke, who requested we refer to him as Dai, ask questions that didn't make any sense. He would repeat back our confusion, which would cause all of us to burst out laughing. Then it would start all over again. Eventually, we did get to the right question to give a useful answer, which pleased them all.

Being sober made it even more amusing for me. I was able to observe everyone else, instead of getting lost in my own mind like I tended to do when I got drunk. Adam was awesome, as he kept his professionalism throughout the night. He never wavered from talking about business with Mr. Gima and Dai. Unlike Peter and Ashlee, who were withdrawing from the conversation and focusing more on each other. 

Though it was very subtle, I could see they were getting touchy-feely whenever they thought no one was paying attention. Of course, I already knew they were hooking up, but they were usually pretty good at not showing any signs during work. What did surprise me, though, was seeing Bruce talk to Kana, the Japanese woman in the group.

At first, he tried to say something in Japanese, that was probably very wrong because it would make her giggle. Then she said something in perfect English, and he was blown away that she knew how to talk to him the whole time. After that, their talking became more flirtatious. Though Ryan, who was next to Bruce, whispered something in his ear, and he turned the flirting down a notch.

Speaking of the devil, the whole night, Ryan was like a whole new person. He was very animated and thoughtful in his discussion with the clients. He had even said something in Japanese that really amazed everyone. Dai asked if he knew a lot of Japanese, to which Ryan confessed he only knew a few phrases from the time he visited Japan during the summer after graduating high school.

Not only was he good at charming the clients through talk, but he also continued to captivate and impress us, especially me, in other ways. The most surprising part was when the jazz group took a quick break, which somehow inclined him to ask the manager if he could play the piano.

He sat down in front of the ivory keys of a beautiful black grand piano and bent his fingers until they cracked. Then he started with a quick warm-up by playing generic chords. Adam and Mr. Gima stopped talking business then and turned around in their chairs to watch as Ryan began to play.

He started with the lower keys, tapping them with precision, then I could hear the upper keys joining in. It took me a minute to figure out what he was playing. But as soon as Kana practically squealed, "He knows how to play Michael Jackson songs?" I realized he was playing Billie Jean. Others around the bar started recognizing it and began to sing along with his playing. I couldn't help but sing along too.

When he ended, the entire room roared with applause. As he made his way back to our area, I couldn't help but stare at him in amazement.

As we all returned to our conversations, I couldn't help but keep glancing across at him. I wished then that I hadn't selected the furthest seat from him. But I was also glad I did, because every time his eyes met mine, I'd quickly look away and pretend like I hadn't been staring. It almost became like a game of eye tag, and he was definitely winning.

When it was just past eleven in the evening, everyone was still having a great time talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. As much as I didn't want to leave, I knew I needed to get a good night's sleep for our next presentation. Adam assured me it would be okay for me to go and that everyone else would be leaving shortly too. He then thanked me for everything I did to please the clients and elevating the company's reputation.

I thanked him for the recognition, bid everyone good night, and excused myself. I walked through the maze of tables to get back out of the bar. Then I threw on my coat as I made my way through the lobby and out the front door to the crisp night air.

I pulled out my phone as I was making my way to the subway, to let Eric know I was leaving. But then saw he left me several text messages already.

9:30PM - ERIC: How's it going?

9:45PM - ERIC: I'm sorry again for earlier. I love you.

9:59PM - ERIC: Sorry for so many texts. But just thought about it, and I don't like you traveling home so late at night by yourself. I know you don't like paying for cabs, so I am going to come and meet you to take you home.

I stopped in my tracks as I read the last one.

10:35PM - ERIC: I'm here. Don't worry, I don't want to interrupt you guys. You all look like you're having a good time. Especially Peter and Ashlee... Figures they'd be hooking up from what Ryan told me. Anyway, I'm just sitting at the bar, text me when you're leaving and I'll meet you outside.

Eric was there? Of course, it was too crowded for me to see. Then again, I wasn't really looking at anyone outside of our group.

I turned back around to head back in to find Eric just as Ryan came walking out of the hotel.

"Hey! Did you forget something?" He asked as he threw on his jacket.

"Apparently, Eric's here."

He looked around and shrugged. "Really? I don't see him."

Just as he said that, Eric came trotting out. Looking almost unamused as he said, "Why am I not surprised to see you two together again?"

I felt my face flush, but more with the feelings of annoyance than embarrassment.

"You're going to need to knock this shit off, bro!" Ryan demanded, seeming to be just as annoyed as I was by Eric's comment. "I was just leaving, and your fiance was just heading back in to find you."

"You know what, bro!" Eric said, taking a step towards Ryan. "I'm getting sick of you! I told you to stay away from her, and all I've seen you do is show up wherever she is! You're just a fucking playboy that wants something you can't have. So why don't you just leave her alone and go back to find another whore at the bar that would be more suitable for someone like you!"

Before I even knew what was happening, Ryan clocked Eric square on the nose. Eric stumbled back as I screamed in shock. As I was about to yell at Ryan for attacking Eric, Eric swung back and punched Ryan in the gut with a roar of exertion. I could hear the wind getting knocked out of him. That didn't stop him from propelling forward and wrapping his arms around Eric, like in a wrestling match.

I couldn't tell whose fist or knee was whose, and I kept shouting at them to stop fighting. Thankfully, it didn't take long for the hotel security to come in and break them up.

"What the fuck is going on?" Peter shouted as he was walking out of the hotel with Adam, Ashlee, and Bruce in tow.

Then I noticed that just behind them was Mr. Gima and the others too. I saw them whispering among themselves, looking at Eric and Ryan, and I'm sure me too, with disapproving glances. I was mortified.

"It's nothing!" Ryan huffed, still trying to calm back down and catch his breath. The security had released their hold of the two but didn't move far, just in case.

Eric grabbed his handkerchief from his coat pocket and held it against his bleeding nose. "Vicky, let's go."

I looked back at Ryan, then to Adam and Peter, who both looked extremely pissed. I knew this was not going to be good for the company's reputation. While I wanted to stay to try to help smooth things over with them and the clients, I knew I couldn't. All I could think of to say was, "I'm so sorry."

With that, Eric and I got in a cab and left, leaving Ryan alone to clean up the mess caused because of me.

**********

So much for getting a good night's sleep before the next day. 

Against my better judgment, I let Eric stay the night. Which led to us arguing about everything that had happened. That then led me to question him if he really still wanted to marry me. He assured me he did, apologized profusely, and promised he'd never overreact again. We attempted to have makeup sex, which was more for him than me. Though, his body was still in too much pain from his fight with Ryan to finish. Which was fine by me.

I was so nervous and stressed as I walked into work the next morning. Not only because of meeting with the second group of potential clients, but because I was going to have to face Adam and explain what happened. Even if Ryan already had.

As I got off the elevator on the executive floor, my heart started beating a little faster. I really hated confrontations. But I forced myself to keep going like it was any other day at the office. I reached my desk, put my purse away, and draped my coat on the coat stand next to my desk. I checked the time and saw it was just past eight.

Adam and I usually showed up around the same time, especially on presentation days. Still, his door was closed, which meant he wasn't there yet. So I sat down at my desk and turned on my computer to start my morning as I routinely did. I was going through my emails as usual, when my desk phone buzzed.

"Good morning, Mrs. Turner," I greeted, as I read the caller ID.

"Good morning, Vicky!"

"I was just finishing up checking some emails, then I was going to grab my morning coffee. Would you like to join me in the break room in about fifteen minutes?" Having coffee with Mrs. Turner, first thing in the morning had become part of my daily routine since I started working for Adam.

"Actually, if you could, I'd like to meet with you in Mr. Herman's office."

I looked into the phone, confused. "Adam's not in yet, but as soon-"

"No, dear." She cut me off. "I mean, my Mr. Herman's office. Please finish up whatever you're working on, and come over."

"Oh, okay." I was starting to get even more nervous then. "Is everything okay?"

"We'll talk more soon," Mrs. Turner said with almost no emotion and disconnected the call.

I slowly hung up the phone and just sat there, thinking about what it could be. Something was telling me that it wasn't going to be good.