Kim linked her arm with mine. “Totally.”
We walked up the stairs behind two of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. They were denied entry and my heart dropped. If they couldn’t get in, there was no way in hell we were going to.
I handed the bouncer my ID and he glanced at me, then back at the ID. The other guy took Kim’s. The men shared a look and then the door was opened for us.
“Welcome,” the smaller of the two said.
“Seriously?” I blurted.
“Thanks,” Kim said quickly, and pushed me inside.
“I can’t believe we’re in,” I said, and grabbed her hand.
“I picked up on that when you almost made the bouncer change his mind.”
I gasped. “I didnot.”
She grinned and we walked further into the club. A half-dressed woman led us to the booth in a corner facing the dance floor. She wore a teeny-tiny black mini skirt with a blood red top that tied at her neck and left her midriff bare. Her bright red stilettos oozed sex appeal, but all I could think about was how she managed to stay on her feet all night. I was already dying in my boots.
I took a minute to take in the space. It was swanky for sure, with red booths, deep mahogany wooden tables and two bars downstairs. Roped off stairs led to the exclusive VIP area that reportedly only the rich of the rich, and/or celebrities were ever granted access.
The dance floor’s tiles lit up with multi-colored lights, while the DJ sat on a dais above the dance floor and was currently playing some God-awful dub step piece.
We slid into the booth and the server took our drink order. I leaned over to Kim and raised an eyebrow. “I thought it would be different in a weird way.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m hoping we’re not going to have to listen to this crap all night. I’ll lose my mind.”
I giggled. “Me too.”
The server returned with our drinks and smiled. “Compliments of the gentlemen sitting over there,” she said, and pointed to the booth across the dance floor from us.
“Thank you,” I said.
The men were cute. Both clean cut, both dark haired. Both dressed in tailored suits, sans ties. One was sporting the perfect amount of stubble on his face to give him a hint of sexy and mysterious, while the other was clean-shaven.
Neither of them made me think of Austin. Not at all. They didn’t make me think of his face that was soft to the touch, or the fact that just that morning, he’d obviously not had the chance to shave, so he left my mouth deliciously chafed. They didn’t make me think of the jeans that fit him perfectly or the smell of his leather cut when I’d dropped my cheek to his chest. I was well and truly perfectly capable of putting all my thoughts of Austin ‘Booker’ Carver out of my mind.
We took the drinks and tipped them toward the men in thanks and then sipped.
“Wow, that’s a cocktail,” Kim said, and set her drink down.
“Yes, yes, it is.” I felt my purse buzz and opened it to locate my phone. “Well, looky here. Six missed calls from Austin... oh, and...,” I giggled, “... a couple of very irritated texts.”
“Seriously?” Kim sipped her drink again.
“Yep. ‘Where are you?’, ‘What the hell, Dani,’ etcetera, etcetera.” I snorted in derision. “I hope this teaches him a lesson. I am not a woman to be messed with.” My tipsy mind was making me quite self-assured, and I threw the phone back in my purse and focused on my drink again.
The song changed and I gasped. “I love this song! Let’s dance.”
I dragged Kim onto the dance floor where several other people were congregating. I was apparently not the only one who loved this song. What could I say? Pink was always a good dance choice.
I don’t know how long we stayed on the floor. At least three songs, before I was feeling stifled by the body heat and in desperate need of water. We made our way back to the table and our server brought us both water and fresh drinks. Again, compliments of the gentlemen across from us. This time, however, they made their way to our table and slid in beside us.
“Ladies,” the one with the stubble crooned to me. His friend sat next to Kim, leaving us in the middle and each of them on the ends. Ergo, we had no escape. We were pinned in.
“Hi,” I said, nervously.
“I’m Derek,” clean-shaven guy said.
