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29 November 2015 @ 02:46 pm
Tactical Error.  
Why am I so, so against re-reading and editing things? Jfc


Tactical Error

Pascal was starting to think that this party was a waste of his time. No. He started out thinking this part was a waste of his time. Fresh out of school and six months into this job, he had successfully dodge every single office party so far. This time, however, his buddies had conned him into coming to this lame-ass holiday party, only to immediately ditch him in favor of their dates.


All of that was before he'd seen a girl walk up to admire the Christmas tree. If anybody had asked him, that tree was hideously overdecorated--gaudy if anything, but the girl was gorgeous. She wore a black cardigan over a red dress that hit just above her knees and it shimmered against the light from the tree in front of her. Her honey colored hair was pulled into a braid that hung over her shoulder. She didn't look familiar, so he wagered that she was probably one of the receptionists downstairs; it seemed like they were constantly changing them out down there.

Good, he could play himself up a little bit. As he was, he was sure he was out of her league. But she didn't have to know, right?

Pascal squared his shoulders, straightened his tie, and downed the last of his champagne before setting it on a passing tray a disguntled waiter was carrying. Pascal was glad that he opted for one of his nicer suits tonight--he'd spent half of his first paycheck on it. Time to make his money back.

Pascal came up beside her, casually observing the tree instead of her as he spoke. "They really outdid themselves this year," he commented. Not that he even knew what it had looked like last year. Her eyes were blue, he noted fondly with a faint hum as she peered over at him. Now that he was closer, he could see that she had braided holly into her hair. The receptionist pool had certainly upgraded. "Doesn't really compare to you, however. I'm Pascal."

She smiled politely and gave him a short nod, " Kaitlynn."

"It's nice to actually be able to attend one of these events, you know? I'm usually so busy with paperwork and the like. Deadlines. Etc. Running the accounting department is such a task." He stifled his rambling by clearing his throat. He had no idea what he was talking about and a quick glance at Kaitlynn told him that she was at least vaguely aware of that fact. She cocked an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Damnit, Pascal. Be cool.

He shrugged awkwardly, giving her a side look. Just cut to the point. "Would it be to forward of me to ask if you have a boyfriend, Kaitlynn?" There was no ring, so clearly she wasn't married. Even if she did have a boyfriend, he told himself that he could still have a chance.

She tried to hide her amusement behind her hand. "I do, actually. Yes."

Pascal raised his brows in interest and nodded in acknowledgement. "Oh. Does he work for me? Perhaps, I know him. So many of them, of course. Hard to keep them all straight."

"Hmm, no," she shook her head thoughtfully. "I don't think so. I feel like he would have mentioned you." Pascal mistook the inflection in her tone for flirting.

There was at least 30 second of awkward silence before the sound of her name being called broke through. When Paul looked up, Paul Bonner practically running over to them--he seemed like he was always running. Pascal wasn't sure if that was an indicator of his own personality or his boss'. Poor guy.

Pascal frowned as Kaitlynn grinned up at Paul. Surely, she hadn't meant him? Pascal hadn't been around long, but he was at least 95% sure that Paul wasn't even into women.

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Pascal. I should probably be going." Rejection came swiftly then with a twirl of her skirt and a pleasant, “merry christmas!” over her shoulder that made his heart sink. He watched Paul guide her away, and as she sauntered up to another man, Pascal was overcome with the feeling of slowly sinking into quicksand. The other man wrapped an arm around her waist, pressed a kiss onto the top of Kailtynn's head, and glanced at Pascal over the top of her head. Pascal suddenly felt every milileter of his blood fall straight to his feet.

Oh, no...no, no, no--fuck.

Her boyfriend was Tristan Belmont--his boss.

Pascal's entire body stiffened, as he quickly averted his gaze back to the tree in front of him. "I am so fired,” he muttered miserably to himself.