Oh, she was definitely drunk. And so was he, at this point, but not as far gone as she was. And thankfully, the rest of their group was in a similar state, because no one had really noticed exactly how inappropriate this was. As it was, Roger was beyond caring.
Fleur was rambling off something in French, and even hanging around her as often as he did, he had no idea what on earth she was talking about. "Patron," he repeated, nodding, and returned her smile. "I should definitely fire you," he said, trying at a serious face, but then her hand was in his hair and that always made him heavy-lidded and stupid. "Mm," he murmured faintly, turning his face against her hand. The last thing he needed was a boss/employee fantasy to add to his growing list of Fleur fantasies, but there it was. Fuck.
"You were wonderful today, by the way," he managed, head feeling heavy, the heat from Fleur's curves against his body. "Although, veela on your boss. Too inappropriate. I'm going to have to let you go, Miss Delacour."