Marisol took a stutter step, but then recovered herself. Cream of Wheeeeat! she thought desperately. “You’ve probably gotten a slightly skewed sample of how glamorous and interesting my life is based on the last twenty minutes,” she said lightly, “but I’m afraid the rest of my evening is going to be worrying about our supplies of banh mi meatballs and cocktail napkins and whether the musicians are coming back from their vape break on time. I’m on the clock until the last guest is gone and tear down is underway.” Right on cue, the com in Mari’s ear informed her about a guest arriving with a surprise plus-one who had not been vetted by the security team. “I actually have to go deal with a situation at the door as soon as I drop you off back at the gallery.”

“Ah, yes, I was not thinking. I was just pleased to have you to myself for a moment. Maybe when you finish work, you could join me for a drink? I’d love to talk more with you.”

Mari’s brain whirred. She didn’t think she’d actually ever been asked out like this before—just… asked out. By someone she’d just met. Like in a movie. She’d always seemed to ease into dating via proximity occasioned by work or friendship. She’d tried dating apps a couple times, but she didn’t really hang out in bars or clubs or wherever dating cold calls actually happened. Occasionally someone random would ask for her number, but she never gave it. Wait, was she even being asked out? Or was this an offer of friendly conversation? I mean…this Alpha had just swiped left on Halston Hollis after being hosed down in his scent…and now she was asking Mari out? No way. Maybe she was just curious about the non-profit that was hosting the benefit?

“Oh, are you interested in BIPOCOmmunity? I don’t actually work for them—they hired the event firm I work for. I mean, I’m a BIPOCO, so of course I care about the cause, but… I’m not in a noble line of work or anything. I’m just the event coordinator.”

“Just? This is a very large and elegant event. You were in charge of planning it?”

Mari smiled and shook her head. “No, not at all. Do you know how, earlier, you told me that being a cardiologist and being a cardio-thoracic surgeon were more different than you’d think? Well, it’s the same for event planning and event coordinating. I don’t choose locations or themes, or colors, or flatware or anything of that nature. I’m not creative, unless you count creative problem-solving. I’m a nuts and bolts girl. The planner handles the ideas and inspirations and choices and things, and I take the puzzle pieces and fit them together. I handle the nuts and bolts— coordinating with the chosen venue and the different vendors, overseeing the execution of the planner’s ideas, being on-site to problem-solve during the event. I make the dream reality. I handle the logistics of things. In other words, I do the boring part.”

Bisi smiled back. “You do the hard part! You have a lovely smile, by the way. You know, you make your job sound something like mine. The cardiologist diagnoses the issue, I handle the nuts and bolts of fixing it. Actually, your job sounds somewhat more stressful than mine.”

Mari made a deeply skeptical sound. “I doubt that very much. If I make a tiny mistake, no one dies.”

“But I only work on one problem at a time, and it sounds like you work on many problems at once. Also, my clients are under anesthesia so they cannot hassle me. Besides that, I wonder whether you even make mistakes, tiny or otherwise. If so, I am guessing they are very rare,” Dr. Egbe said, cocking her head as if she was scanning Mari for data.

“Why do you say that?” Mari asked, surprised. It was true. She was the detail-oriented queen of triple-checking, and she despised making mistakes so she put great effort into making as few as possible, but she wasn’t sure how anyone could have gleaned that in the brief period of time that Dr. Egbe had known her.

“I don’t know how I know. You just radiate competence.”

That was one of the nicer compliments Marisol had gotten in her life. “Right back at you,” she returned with a cheeky grin, and added, “Thank you for the vote of confidence. I try very hard not to make mistakes at work. It keeps me up at night when I do.” Mari laughed as she added, “I save all my mistakes for my personal time.”

“In answer to your question, by the way, no, I did not ask you to have a drink with me because I want to talk about the NGO. I just wanted to talk with you.”

“Oh. Like a… date?” Mari asked, directly this time, because they were almost back to the gallery and it was almost time for her to go deal with the un-vetted guest. 

“Yes, like a date, if you are available and amenable,” said Dr. Egbe. “Maybe more like an opportunity for me to convince you to go on a real date with me.”

Mari pressed her lips together, trying to think fast, which was a strength area for her most of the time, but this woman turned her brain not into Cream of Wheat (which Mari had actually attempted to eat only once and…wallpaper paste…) but into a skull-sized fluff of cotton candy. “I… why?”

“You said you are in a hurry, so it’s probably better not to go into why. Suffice it to say that I find you very interesting and appealing and I think it would be enjoyable.”

Ok. Well, she was already vetted by security so she’s probably not a psycho. I know her name, where she works, what she does, what city she lives in, so we’re in safer territory than online dating. She didn’t fall for Halston Hollis’s thirsty bullshit, so she’s got some sense and self-control, and she has to be smart to do the job she does. She’s been very kind and charming so far… she’s almost certainly a player, but show me a young, rich Alpha who isn’t. She’s hotter than the surface of the sun, so, again, player, but… well, why the hell not? Mari wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment. May as well get played by a hot person as by an average one— the view would be better, at least. 

“That’s very flattering, and you seem pretty interesting, too… but the event doesn’t wrap until eleven, so I’m afraid I won’t be off-duty until very late tonight. Probably early tomorrow.”

“I’m used to odd hours, and I don’t mind waiting for you. If you won’t be too tired, I would be happy to wait,” Dr. Egbe offered. 

A little humorous huff escaped Mari’s nose and she shook her head. Well, at least the work-imposed delay meant she was making this super-Alpha work for it a little, which was probably a new experience for her. “I think you’re crazy, but if you don’t mind, I’m sure I won’t be too tired for one drink. It could literally be another three hours before I can join you, though. Here, text yourself from my phone, and then you can tell me if you change your mind and decide to leave and I’ll keep you updated on my ETA.” Mari opened the phone to her messaging app and handed it over. 

Dr. Egbe took it and typed rapidly and then hit send. Somewhere on her person, a phone made a ting sound. “It’s not so crazy, temi. I’ll stay out of the way and entertain myself. This is a museum. There are lots of things to look at. I won’t be leaving.” 

Mari opened the door in front of them, revealing the main gallery again. “Good point. Ok, Dr. Egbe—”

“Mtcheww!” the Alpha objected forcefully, sucking air. “Bisi! For the love of god, call me Bisi!”

Mari laughed, “Sorry, Bisi, I have to run now— if you get tired of looking at art, the bar area’s a good place to wait, and the bartenders are working for another hour and a half. Tell them I sent you and they’ll make your drink with a little extra love. That should help the time pass. They have some phone chargers behind the bar, too, if you need one. I’ll let security know you’ll be staying after hours.”

“Very thoughtful. Good luck with the uninvited guest.”

“Oh, this is nothing compared to the last crisis. So… I’ll be seeing you in a little while, I guess?” Marisol said with a hopeful lift of one shoulder. 

“You will.” Bisi Egbe affirmed confidently.