His attention dropped to the table and he looked like he was doing calculations in his head, or trying to solve a puzzle, or sifting through memories.
“Let’s go dancing.” Kerry tapped the table with her fingertips. “Is that possible? Can we do that? Is there a place to go?”
“Yes. There are lots of places.” I pushed the remainder of my drink aside, deciding it was best if I cut myself off from the teat of liquid recklessness. “What do you like? Club music or what?”
“How about eighties? Do you know a place like that?” she asked excitedly.
“Yes. I do.” I licked my lips of the residual sugar, deciding to take them to Club Outrageous, a club that switched themes every season. I remembered my friend telling me that the summer theme was yuppie chic of the eighties.
“Cool. Let me run to the restroom and we’ll take our car. It’s a limo, so there’s room for all of us,” Kerry whispered as she stood. “Do you need to go?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
Marcus stood. “I’ll go with you.”
My mind was still on the logistics of dancing as Kerry and Marcus departed. Quinn’s company handled the security of Club Outrageous. All I’d need to do to gain entrance was drop Quinn’s name.
I glanced at Matt, again finding him watching me.
Maybe it was all the sugar and vodka and good food flowing through my system, or maybe it was the dark, intent look in his eyes. Or maybe it was all the pent-up emotional, intellectual, and sexual frustration I’d been carrying around, hiding from him for weeks.
Who can say what inspired my recklessness?
All I knew was, I wasn’t feeling cautious as I leaned forward, slowly licked my lips, and found his foot under the table with mine. I then slid the pointed toe of my shoe up the back of his calf.
His eyes flared, his eyebrows hitching subtly with surprise.
“Do you like to dance?” I asked, sounding husky to my ears. If I’d been totally sober, I would have had a hard time keeping a straight face.
But, I wasn’t.
Inhibitions were lowered.
And he was in a suit.
And I was in a dress.
“I’d like to dance with you,” he responded, lowering his hand beneath the table and catching my ankle, his hot palm cutting through the warm fog of inebriation.
He’d touched me before, but this was different. This touch felt intentional in a new way, like the difference between a high five and a caress.
“Do you know how?” I teased, feeling breathless as his fingers lightly skimmed halfway up my calf. “Or will I have to show you?”
“I know how,” he said easily with dark confidence. “But I’d also like you to show me.”
Matt held my hand as we left the restaurant, both of us making a pit stop at the restrooms prior to leaving, which earned a reprimand from Kerry.
“We could have all gone together and saved time. It would have been more efficient,” she said, earning her a quizzical smile from her husband, like he thought she was cute.
I gave directions to the driver, although he indicated he knew where it was.
Once in the limo, Matt and I sat next to each other, his arm resting along the back of the bench seat behind me. Kerry and Marcus sat across from us in a mirrored position and we spoke of random topics—movies, books, advances in AI technology—during the short drive.
As I suspected, gaining entrance to Club Outrageous wasn’t a problem. In fact, I recognized the bouncer as one of Quinn’s security team, Stan Willis. He was a nice guy who’d done his best to provide unobtrusive security to Janie and all her friends during Janie’s bachelorette party in Vegas.
Things hadn’t gone as planned, but that’s a different story.
However, the shenanigans in Vegas did mean Stan remembered me. As soon as he saw me, I smiled and he stiffened.
“Marie.” I saw his mouth form my name. He stood, stepping away from the other bouncer as I approached.
“Hey, Stan.” Waving, I gave him my biggest smile, seeing that the line to enter was wrapped around the block. “Do you think you can get us in?” I asked as soon as I was within earshot, a club mix of “Funkytown” booming from the building behind him.
“Yeah, yeah. Absolutely.” He backed up a few steps, opening the latch for the velvet ropes. “How many people you got?”
“Four.” I turned, planning on motioning my companions forward, but Matt was standing directly behind me.
“Okay, I need wrists.” Stan’s eyes moved over Matt, then he reached behind the podium, extracting four armbands. “And I’ll radio the guys inside, have them open up a VIP booth for you.”
“Hey, thanks.”
“No problem. Tell Mrs. Sullivan I say hi.”
Matt stepped to the side, allowing Kerry to go after me, then Marcus, and then he extended his own wrist, and we were good to go.
I still felt a little hazy from my four lemon drops, and also from the way Matt continued to either hold my hand or pull me close to his side, so I didn’t take much note of our surroundings. To my mind, it looked like any other high-end dance club, with flashing lights, loud music, and a lot of bodies.
But Kerry and Marcus seemed to be pleased, grinning and dancing their way over to the bar area. Matt and I followed, and I made a mental note to drink only water from this point forward.
A server dressed in hot-pink leggings and an off-the-shoulder sweater approached us just as we reached the bar. “Are you Marie Harris, party of four?”
“That’s right.” I nodded.
“Okay, come with me.” She waved us forward and began walking toward an area blocked off from the rest of the club with another velvet rope.
Beyond the rope was a half flight of stairs that led to a corridor with doors on one side and the wall at the back of the club on the other. We walked past several doors until we reached the very last one.
“Here, this one is for you. Your party is the first to use this room as it was just finished being redecorated this week. And please accept the champagne on the house.” She smiled brightly and handed me a slip of paper. “Here’s your access code. You can enter directly from the dance floor, but you have to type in the code. If you want drinks, just press the red button on the side of the table. Enjoy.”
The server motioned for us to enter and we dutifully did so, trading perplexed but pleased glances. Inside was a small-ish room with dark velvet thickly cushioned couches lining the walls. Tables were on either end and another table was in the middle of the space. On top of the table was a champagne bucket, bottle, and four glasses. Just as she’d said, a red button was in the center of the table.
“This place is awesome.” Kerry turned to me abruptly once we drew even with the table.