I thought the worst thing I’d done at our company Halloween party was complain about my boss to a handsome stranger. Then he kissed me, and for a moment, I was lost in the excitement. But then someone walked onto the balcony, and what she said when she saw me made my blood run cold.
The first mistake I made that night was deciding I deserved to have some fun.
The second was kissing a man whose name I didn’t know.
And the third was thinking that because he wore a mask, whatever happened between us would stay a secret.
I’d spent the whole afternoon getting ready for our company’s Halloween party.
I’d bought a new black dress.
I curled my hair.
And even practiced walking in heels I almost never wore.
For once, I wanted to feel like someone other than the exhausted employee who spent her days trying to please a woman who couldn’t be pleased.
That woman was my manager, Diane.
And I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let her ruin another evening.
I worked for a huge corporation, and our Halloween parties were practically legendary.
Hundreds of employees.
Executives.
Spouses.
And people from other offices.
This year’s theme was masquerade.
And I’d spent far too long choosing a mask to match my dress.
My father called while I was putting on my earrings.
“Going somewhere fancy?”
“Company party, Dad.”
“Have fun. And don’t spend the whole evening talking about work.”
I laughed.
Dad had retired from the same industry three years earlier.
But he still offered professional advice whenever we spoke.
“I’ll try.”
“And Emma? You don’t have to prove yourself every minute.”
I rolled my eyes affectionately. “Goodnight, Dad.”
By eight, I was walking into a ballroom.
It was filled with glittering decorations, elaborate costumes, and people whose faces I barely recognized.
My mask was a simple handheld one.
Some guests had gone much further.
One man in particular caught my attention near the bar.
He was tall, probably in his 40s.
He wore a fitted black suit, gloves, and a dark mask covering almost his entire face.
I was waiting for a drink when he leaned toward me.
“Please tell me you know someone here.”
I laughed.
“Technically, I work here.”
“That makes one of us.”
He explained that he was someone’s guest, though he didn’t say whose.
We started talking.
He was funny, confident, and surprisingly easy to be around.
Eventually, he asked which department I worked in.
I gave him a vague answer.
“And your boss?” he asked. “One of those wonderful people who makes Monday mornings exciting?”
I nearly choked on my drink.
“Don’t get me started.”
He grinned.
“That bad?”
“My manager is a 40-something woman who could watch you do 99 things right and still complain about the 100th.”
He laughed.
“Sounds familiar.”
“Her name’s Diane. Do you know her?”
For a moment, he hesitated.
“I know of her.”
That was all the encouragement I needed.
I told him about the presentation she’d made me redo three times because she disliked the formatting.
I told him how she’d criticized me in front of my colleagues over a minor mistake.
I didn’t mention that she’d also defended me when another department tried blaming me for a project delay.
But knowing Diane, she probably didn’t like someone else criticizing her team.
The man listened, occasionally adding comments that made me laugh harder.
“Maybe she doesn’t know how to be satisfied,” he said.
“Honestly, I don’t think that woman cares about anyone but herself.”
He went quiet for a second.
Then he raised his glass.
“To impossible women.”
We laughed.
Somehow, almost an hour passed.
Eventually, the music grew louder, and he suggested stepping onto the balcony so he could smoke.
Outside, the October air was freezing.
He lit a cigarette, took a few distracted puffs, then put it out.
I folded my arms, shivering.
He immediately removed his jacket.
“Here.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re visibly turning blue.”
I laughed and accepted it.
We stood beside the railing, talking about our lives instead of work.
He admitted he’d argued with someone close to him before the party.
“Apparently, I can’t do anything right these days,” he said, smiling without much humor. “Tonight was supposed to be different.”
“Well, at least you’re having fun now,” I said.
“More than I expected.”
