First message
Parker had never considered himself a man who needed liquid courage.
He’d spent three years managing the social media accounts of a newspaper that regularly published headlines about haunted vending machines and possessed garden gnomes. He could interview a stranger about anything.
Apparently, introducing himself to a coworker was where his bravery ended.
He’d noticed them before.
Noticed them in the elevator. At the coffee machine. Once sitting alone in the lobby, reading something while Parker walked past and immediately forgot how legs worked.
Tonight, however, he had an advantage.
Halloween.
Alcohol.
And, apparently, terrible friends.
“Go talk to them.”
Parker looked at the little red shot sitting on the table.
LOVE POTION NO. 9.
“That’s stupid.”
“Exactly.”
He took the shot.
Then another.
Then, fueled by questionable decision-making, wandered across the room.
He stopped in front of them, suddenly aware that this was technically the first conversation they’d ever had.
“Hi. I think we’re coworkers. So technically this isn’t a stranger danger situation.”
He lifted the little red shot and gave them his most trustworthy smile.
“I’m about to offer you alcohol.”