Maybe I'll Get Drunk Again | Willcie
"Garçon! Garçon! Another Manhattan please!"
The tell-tale slurring was the mark of yet another Friday night at Eight, one of the many members-exclusive clubs that Marcie York had wormed her way into ever since joining with MI-6. It wasn't quite as glamourous as Annabel's, or as trendy as Amika's, but Eight was quite the boy's club, which suited Marcie just fine. After a drink or two, she always seemed to have a hankering for finding a handsome young man to entertain her.
Tonight was no exception either, with two GQ-cover-ready men lounging against the bar where Marcie sat, her sixth martini glass of the night finally drained as she giggled at a joke the red-head told her, leaning towards him and brushing a perfectly manicured hand along his bicep.
"Darling Russell, you are simply wicked! I've never laughed so in my life!"
For a moment the man just looked at her confusedly, before his mouth twisted into a slightly awkward smile. "...Uh, my name's Randall, Marcie."
As if she remembered their names. The names weren't important. Just that they were beautiful and looked nothing like the shaggy-haired, bespectacled man she'd left behind at headquarters.
"Oh, oh darling, I'm so sorry. That's right. Randall! We've chatted before haven't we, Randall? A few weeks ago, yes. Have you met Charles yet?" She gestured to the blonde next to her, smiling and brushing a soft kiss against his cheek. "He's such a darling. Plays a terrible hand of poker, but I think he just likes watching how excited I get when I win."
The three of them laughed as Marcie picked up her fresh Manhattan glass and took a long sip. Yes, tonight was going splendidly. The room was spinning in a pleasant manner, her two boys for the night were chatting with each other instead of annoying her with their boring stories about the day's stock market numbers...
It wasn't until out of the corner of her eye she thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar cardigan that Marcie's heart began to pound in her ears. Would she really fall like that again? Of course, half the reason why she even went out nights anymore was to see him outside of work. Outside of the constrictions they both put upon themselves, trying to remain professional, trying not to imagine how much she wanted to just push him up against the nearest flat surface and kiss him senseless.
Marcie shook her head to clear her thoughts as she realized that Charles had asked her a question.
"Ah, sorry dears. I drifted for a second. Though, would you excuse me? Just have to go powder my nose... Now, no fighting while I'm gone, do you hear me? Tonight is ladies' choice." She raised an eyebrow in the boy's direction, before a small smirk twirled at the corner of her lips. "But maybe, just maybe, if you're both very good, perhaps I can teach you both a lesson in sharing... in private." Marcie winked at the boys, their jaws slowly dropping as she wandered away towards the bathroom, pulling her cell phone out and punching in the one number she had memorized from the moment they met.
...Hello?
"Ah, Q, perfect. You're not in bed yet. Any chance you feel like a bit ofa nightcap?"
