The thought of this creep’s tiny, roid-shriveled balls and increased chances of male pattern baldness give me comfort as he slides in behind Clover, one hand on her hip and the other creeping up her ribs as he shouts into her ear. She glances back, a frown pinching her brows, but doesn’t pull away as his palm skims down to her waist and back up again, getting way too close to her breasts for comfort.
Mycomfort, anyway.
Clover doesn’t seem bothered.
She just keeps dancing.
Andhekeeps dancing.
And my jaw clenches so hard there’s a chance I’ll crack a molar if I’m forced to watch much more of this. I already know there’s no way I can pull off sitting at the bar with my back turned to the repulsive mating ritual unfolding here.
Which means it’s time for me to leave.
I’ve had enough “fun,” the girls are already up past their bedtime, and I’m driving. A second beer probably wasn’t a good idea anyway. I’m a big man, and can easily have two beers in a few hours without going over the legal limit, but when I’m out with the kids, I usually stick to a one-drink rule. Their safetycomes first, and part of keeping them “safe” is ensuring I don’t go Cro-Magnon on their nanny’s new boy toy on the dance floor and scare her away.
I’ll just tell Clover we’re headed out, give her money for a cab—so she’s free to stay and hump Roid Rage’s thigh as long as she likes—and make a beeline for the play structure to fetch the kids.
Do not pass go.
Do not linger long enough to be introduced to the Chad the Chode in the Salmon Polo, who I’m itching to punch in his pimply chin.
Mind made up, I make a brief detour by the bar to say goodbye to the guys. I promise to put Capo’s product launch party on my schedule for Fat Tuesday—Why not? It’s not like I’ll have a date that night—and head for the dance floor.
It’s more crowded than it looked from the mezzanine, and Clover and Handsy Creep I Hate More than Head Lice aren’t where they were before.
They must have moved deeper into the crush.
I make a circuit of the floor, angling around a bachelorette party in matching plastic crowns wiggling to a Whitney Houston banger throbbing from the speakers. Whitney, warbling about wanting to “dance with somebody,” is more wholesome than Prince, but I’m not sure it matters. Once two people have gotten to the “humping in public” stage, they don’t exactly need musical encouragement.
Which is fine. Clover’s a free agent who can hump anyone she pleases.
I just don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity while she’s doing it. I’d prefer to be in another time zone, but across town will have to do.
I check the pinball machines, remembering her saying she loved vintage pinball, but she’s not there, either.
She’s not…anywhere.
Not at the mezzanine bar or by the pool tables or in the kiddie zone below, checking in on the girls.
As I return to the dance floor, my chest tightens with worry. I remind myself that she’s an adult dancing in a public place and most likely fine. Maybe she hit the ladies’ room, or she and Roid Rage took the elevator down to the basement so he could show off his killing dinosaurs with a fake machine gun skills.
I’m about to head down to check when I see it—a flash of wild curls in the corner of my vision—and turn to see a laughing Clover disappearing through a flat black door next to the empty stage.
Handsy is hot on her heels…
The door swings shut behind them, disappearing into the wall. It isn’t an exit, or it would be clearly marked. It must be a backstage area or something.
I hesitate for a moment.
Clover led the way off the floor. She was smiling and laughing while she did it. She didnotseem to be under any duress or to feel threatened in any way. She decided to seek out a more private change of location with Chad the Wonder Loser of her own free will, and that’s…fine.
It really is.
Only, can I really be sure it’s fine?
She barely knows this guy. She can’t be certain he’ll behave himself when they’re alone. It’s not disrespectful of her choices to just…pop my head in to make sure she’s okay. And if she is, I’ll tell her we’re leaving and excuse myself as quickly as possible.
I willnotrip Roid Rage’s hands off.
