“No, that’s not what I am saying,” Amy said quickly.
“Well, what are you saying? That I’m not good enough for him?”
“I never said that,” Amy said.
“Whatever we’re doing is just for a few more days. In a week, Chance will be nothing more than a distant memory.”
“I guess,” Amy said. “But try to be nice to him tonight.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“See you. I have a hunk of a man waiting for me in the lobby,” she smiled and started walking away before Claire could respond.
“You what?” Claire laughed as she tried to grab her. “And here you are drilling me about a man. Tell me more!”
“No news yet,” she said as she reached the door. “But I will fill you in later.”
Claire laughed when the door abruptly closed behind Amy. Her thoughts drifted back to the suggestion she had made earlier. What was she going to wear? She went to her suitcase and started rummaging inside until she found a white spaghetti strap dress that fell to her knees. It had a low neckline which allowed just enough of her breasts to be covered and just a hint of cleavage peeking out. She glanced at the black box, thinking of the emerald stone, but decided not to wear it; she didn’t want to send the wrong signals.
Time flew faster than Claire had imagined, and before she knew it, the sun was setting. Dinner was usually at seven, so she assumed Chance would be at her door by then. She readied herself in anticipation. And right before seven, she broke down and put on the necklace.
At exactly seven, she heard a knock at the door. She skipped a few steps, then paused as she tried to still her beating heart. She took a deep breath and opened the door to a rather dashing Chance on the other side. He was sporting a pair of soft, denim pants with a white shirt that had three buttons at the top opened to reveal a rope necklace that had what looked like a shell as a pendant. He looked handsome, and his smile completed his outfit.
When he saw her, he whistled. “I didn’t know emerald would look so good against hazel and white,” he grinned and held his arm out for her. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and pulled the door closed behind her.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said to him. She wanted to add that he looked sexy and she was sort of happy to be hanging out with him, but that was mushier than she wanted to be.
“I had no idea I’d actually get the chance to be here with you,” he told her as they sat for dinner. “Especially after Amy told me about…him.”
“Let’s not talk about that,” she murmured, looking down.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “But I want you to tell me about it whenever you feel you can talk.”
“There is nothing to say, really. We were together for over three years, we were supposed to get married, and the day before, I caught him cheating on me. The end.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Okay, no more depressing talk. Let’s drink some wine and forget about everything bad.”
Claire smiled at his words, but her heart had been reminded of the hurt. But the evening refilled her happiness, and soon she was laughing at Chance’s stories about his adventures and misdeeds. She had never imagined she would enjoy herself so much in his company, but she did. By the end of dinner, she was completely comfortable with him, and she had even started fantasizing about him.
They danced to a live band playing, and when he held her close, she felt the ground move under her feet. His touch sent volts of electricity racing along her spine. Chance didn’t seem to notice her discomfort, or if he did, he had a good way of hiding it.
“Did you enjoy your evening?” he asked her when they stood outside her door at the end of the night.
Claire leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms. “It wasn’t what I expected. I must say, I thought you would be a complete asshole.”
“Oh, so I guess I was only half an asshole,” he teased.
“Maybe just a little,” she giggled. “But not too bad.”
“Would you mind terribly if I kissed you right now?” he asked.
Claire’s heart flipped as he spoke the words. She felt her body rising from the ground, and she held onto the door for support. She couldn’t recall if any man had ever asked her permission before he kissed her.