by Serena Grey
“She’s probably on her way,” I reply to Brett’s question, looking around at the suits in the VIP area as I search for a woman who might be the one I spoke to on the phone. The song playing segues neatly into another one, a new track with what Laurie would call a ‘sick’ beat. She’s practically dancing on her seat. If I weren't here, she would be on the dance floor with Brett..
Our drinks arrive. “Why don’t you two hit the dance floor?” I suggest.
“And leave you here all alone?” Laurie shakes her head. “We’ll finish our drinks first.”
They down their drinks in record time, while I nurse mine, knowing I have to keep my head straight for my interview. Luckily, I don’t have to urge them to leave me again as the manager arrives just as Brett sets his glass down.
The slightly built woman who joins us is dressed in dark pants and a white formal blouse, a sharp contrast from the hostesses. “Rachel Foster?” She gives me a questioning look before extending her hand. “I’m trying to match you to the picture on your magazine’s website. I’m Marjorie Lake.”
I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you. This is my cousin Laurie, and Brett, her boyfriend.”
“Great!” She smiles at them, “You guys having fun?”
“Mmm hmm,” Laurie nods, “and your DJ is something else.”
“We’re going to dance,” Brett says, getting up and holding out a hand for Laurie. “See you later.”
Marjorie settles down beside me on the soft leather seats, which are arranged in a cozy semi-circle around a small table. “We already prepared some material,” she says, “pictures, notes, highlights… I have a printout, but I’ve also emailed them all to you.”
I go through the material she gives me, asking her questions and typing my notes into the document app on my phone. “You seem to be doing so well already,” I remark when we’re done. Judging by the line of people outside, and the number of famous faces I’ve spotted in the VIP since we arrived, I’d guess that Insomnia was already one of the top ten lounges in the city.
“Yes,” Marjorie agrees. “We already have a lot of buzz… I suppose the senior management wants to expose the club to a larger client base.”
“Well, you can never have too much exposure.”
I check my phone to make sure I’ve received her email with the attachments, then I hand the stack of material back to her. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me.”
“No problem.” She gets up. “Enjoy yourself,” she adds with a smile, before leaving.
Taking a sip of my drink, I look towards the dance floor, trying to find Laurie and Brett among the people dancing. After a few moments, I spot Laurie giving Brett some mini twerking action while he grins from ear to ear.
“Mind if I join you?”
I look up at the good-looking guy in front of me. He’s tall and fit, dark-haired, and confident in the manner of a guy who knows how good-looking he is. Something about him reminds me of Jack, and that alone is enough to make me shake my head and smile apologetically.
He shrugs and walks away, leaving the raised VIP area for the bar, where a couple of women are sitting alone. I down the rest of my drink and resume watching Laurie and Brett. I know I can’t spend the whole night watching them, and I can’t leave early and ruin the night for them either. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent away the guy who approached me.
“You want another one of the same?”
I look up at the waiter standing by the table, leaning towards me. I should have another drink, get a little buzzed and let it loose on the dance floor. If I party till I’m exhausted, then maybe I’ll fall asleep as soon as I get home, and not lie awake thinking of Landon Court.
Just the thought of his name and my body awakens, demanding for more of the pleasure from that night.
I shake my head. It’s a good thing I’m never going to see him again. Letting him get into my head is nothing but a recipe for disaster. What’s the point of thinking about someone who’s so hot, obviously rich, and probably not available?
“Why are you still sitting here?” I hear Laurie exclaim. I was too deep in my thoughts to see her approach the table. “Come on Rach, you have to dance.”
She collapses on the seat beside me, breathing deeply, exhilarated from her dancing, with a light sheen of sweat glistening on her skin, just enough to make her look soft and dewy. “Where’s Brett?” I ask.
“He’s getting some water at the bar,” she replies. “Come on. You know you love to dance.”
“I’ll be right back,” I tell the waiter, getting up to follow Laurie to the floor. Down there, the music is loud and pumping, and the beat is almost impossible to resist. Laurie starts to dance and I join her, grinning as the DJ plays hit after hit. After a while, I completely lose myself in the music, forgetting about work, the fact that I’m only going to get a few hours of sleep before work tomorrow… I forget it all, except for Landon Court.
I pretend that I’m dancing for him. That with every move of my body I’m reeling him deeper and deeper into my spell, like a dancing siren, or Salome with her seven veils. I pretend that I’m seducing him with my dancing, teasing him, tempting him to take me somewhere and drive my body to madness again.
When a pair of male hands settle on my hips, I want to close my eyes and pretend that it’s him, his hands, and I almost do, but I’m not uninhibited enough for that, so I tap the hands away. I hear Laurie shout “go girl.” as I dip it really low, then shimmy back up. The guy behind me lets out a whistle, and I look up with a smile. Then for some reason, my eyes go towards the VIP area, and I see a man seated alone at a table, drink in his hand as he watches me.
The man is Landon Court.
All the air escapes from my lungs, leaving me frozen. What is he doing here?
Even from the distance, I can feel his eyes on my body, like heat burning into my skin. The expression in them is sensual, carnal even, as if he’s thinking exactly what he wants to do to me, or remembering the things he has done to me.
He looks away, his eyes dropping to the glass he’s holding. I manage to drag in a deep breath before he tosses back the contents of his glass and spears me with his gaze again.
He’s too far away to say anything to me. But like someone compelled, I go towards him, leaving the dance floor as I’m drawn to him by some deep desire in me I can’t control. I’m already standing in front of him before I realize how awkward it is. We’re strangers, strangers who’ve had sex, but still, as far as he’s concerned I’m a hooker.
He’s wearing dark pants and deep blue sweater, looking effortlessly handsome, sexy, and sophisticated. His hair is tousled, gleaming gold in the lights, and he’s still looking at me with that sensual gaze that makes me wish that instead of this public place, we were back in his apartment, tangled up in his bed.
He smiles, almost as if he can see what I’m thinking in my eyes.
“You’re a great dancer,” he says lightly, looking up at me through lashes that are much too long for a guy. Why is everything about him so sexy? It’s unfair to everyone else.
“Thanks,” I shift on my feet, wondering what the hell I’m doing standing in front of him like I’m being inspected. I should say something and go back to my table. But even as I struggle to find something, anything to say, it feels as if my body is reaching towards him, wanting to relive the contact of that first night.
He reaches out a hand to me. “Come on,” he requests. “Join me.”
I take his hand, feeling my body pulse as soon as my skin comes in contact with his. He pulls me down to sit beside him on the soft leather seat, and my nose fills with the scent of him - body wash and a faint whiff of spicy cologne.
He doesn’t let go of my hand, keeping it on his thigh as he beckons a waiter to bring us both drinks.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He inclines his head towards me. We’re so close I can feel the heat from his skin. When he speaks. His warm breath fans my neck. “I was in the area.”
“Really.” he replies. There’s a gleam in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. I want to flatter myself that somehow, he’s here to find me, but how is that even possible? He leans closer to me and I lose the ability to think of anything but how much I’d like him to kiss me now. My lips part, almost involuntarily, and he lowers his eyes, his fingers tightening around mine.
He wants me. The thought is exultant. Whatever this thing is that I’m feeling, this unreasonable desire that I can’t even justify, he feels it too.
The waiter arrives with the drinks, and I watch with regret as Landon pulls back, releasing my hand.
Suddenly my throat feels parched. I take a long sip of my cocktail. “So are you on the prowl or what?” I say it lightheartedly, even though the thought of him picking up another woman tonight causes an intense pang of jealousy inside me.
He considers me for a moment. “Are you working tonight?”
I almost reply that I am, then remember that he doesn’t know what I actually do. “Working?”
“Are you working the joint?” he repeats, his penetrating gaze steady on my face as he waits for me to reply.
I swallow hard and look away. Of course, as far as he’s concerned, I’m a hooker. Why else would a hooker be in a swanky club if not to pick up men?
“Not tonight,” I reply. “I’m here with my cousin and her boyfriend.”
He doesn’t look as if I’m telling him something he doesn’t already know, fueling my suspicion that he’s presence here has something to do with me.
“Does she know what you do for a living?”
I pull my hand from his, resenting the lies I can’t stop telling. “No.”
The tempo of the music changes, and Justin Timberlake starts to sing about mirrors. I move farther away from him on the seat as the silence stretches between us. The weight of the knowledge that my deception has gone farther than what I intended making me shrink from him. It feels almost as if he knows. As if with his eyes, he’s challenging me to come clean, but that’s just ridiculous.
I decide to go back to my table. Laurie would be back soon anyway, and somehow, I think it’s better if she doesn’t find me on the same table as Landon Court. I’d have no words to explain that one.
I start to get up, but his hand snakes out, reaching for mine.
“Don’t go,” he says.
I fall back on the seat, momentum bringing me closer to him than I originally was. He’s turned towards me, and my body is angled towards his, so close that all I can see, feel and breathe, is him.
His eyes are on my lips, and I can feel the tenseness in his body, like an animal about to spring. There is an aching tightness spreading from my belly, making me breathless.
I lick my lips again, and a breath escapes him.
“Don’t do that,” he says it like a warning.
“Why not?” My voice sounds thick and husky.
His eyes roam my face. Hooker or whatever he thinks I am, he wants me, and his desire is calling out to mine. I can feel one of his hands on the side of my thigh, warm and firm, and I know I want more. No matter what he proposes, I won’t resist.
As if he can sense my capitulation, his body relaxes. He strokes a finger across my cheek, his lips rising in a small smile. “I think your cousin is looking for you.”
For a moment, I can’t focus on what he’s saying, too intent on wanting him to keep touching me. Then I hear Laurie’s voice.
“Rach!” She sounds confused. “I was looking for you.” She’s holding Brett’s hand and frowning in Landon’s direction. “Why’d you move tables?”
“I… This is Landon,” I say, watching as her eyes widen, only for a second, and then her face is composed again.
Landon rises to his feet, managing to do so gracefully, despite how tangled up our limbs are. “Please join us,” he says, extending a hand to Laurie. “I’m Landon Court.”
“Laurie,” she gives me another questioning look as Landon and Brett shake hands and exchange names. I raise my shoulders in a gesture to show her that I’m as confused as she is, and look away.
“We were just going,” Laurie says, looking at me. “Do you want us to wait or...”
“No…” I steal a glance at Landon, then look back at her. “Just wait for me, I’ll be right out.”
“Nice to meet you Landon,” Brett says politely. “We’re right outside Rach.”
I watch them leave, then turn to Landon. “I’m leaving,” I say.
“I gathered,” he replies, a small smile on his lips. He’s holding my hand again, making no move to release it.
“It was nice to run into you.” I say softly.
He chuckles. “It was nice to run into you, Rachel.”
He’s holding my gaze, making it hard for me to breathe. After a few second, he releases my hand, and I wait for him to ask for my number this time, to ask if he can see me again, but there’s nothing.
I get up, stung by how clear it is that he has no intention of pursuing the obvious attraction between us. “Goodnight.”
I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away. Outside, there’re still people trying to get into the club, and on the sidewalk close to the entrance, Brett and Laurie are kissing. I walk towards them, pissed off at Landon, and at myself for caring so much. What if he doesn’t want to see me again? I shouldn’t care. He’s just a one-night stand I should already have forgotten.
As I walk towards Laurie and Brett, a sleek black car pulls up on the sidewalk beside me. The driver, a bulky guy with a crew cut and sharp eyes steps out of the car.
“Miss Foster?” he asks.
“Yes?”
“I’m here to take you home,” he says. “Courtesy of the Insomnia Lounge.”
“Hey,” I call to Laurie and Brett, momentarily perked up by the fact that I won’t be walking home in my four inch heels. “Our ride is here.”
A FEW days later, my article about the Insomnia lounge is up on the site. I refresh the page for like the fifth time, reading the new comments. Most of the people commenting have been there, and have nothing but praise. The people who haven’t been, leave comments about making sure to visit when next they’re in the city.
Not bad.
There’re a few pictures of the lounge published with the article. Shots of the VIP area among them. Just looking at the pictures, I can’t help thinking about Landon, the way he’d held my hand, and how intoxicated I’d been by his presence.
God! I have to stop thinking about him. He’s just a crutch. He’s just something I’m subconsciously using to occupy my mind while I deal with getting over Jack, the person who has occupied it for the past two years.
The person I haven’t thought of for days.
Right now, it’s Landon who’s occupying the prime place in my thoughts. Landon who didn’t even bother to ask to see me again, because as far as he was concerned, I was just a hooker on her day off.
The words on my screen start to look blurry, and I turn towards the window, a tiny slice of glass that provides me a limited view of other office buildings and a little sky. He’d wanted me. I’d felt it, in his touch, in his voice, in the heat from his body that found its way into mine, making my whole body thrum with need for him.
He’d wanted me, and yet he’d done nothing about it. I’d even allowed myself to toy with the idea that somehow, he’d found out who I was and he was there to see me.
Even Laurie had been thinking along the same lines.
“I thought you said you didn’t leave him your number,” she’d asked me on our way home in the car the club had provided.
“I didn’t.”
“So… he just appeared at the same Lounge you had to go for a work assignment… it was a coincidence?”
“What else could it be? He doesn’t even know my last name.”<
br />
“That seems very unlikely,” she’d pronounced, before transferring her attention back to Brett.
But it was a coincidence. And he hadn’t even been interested enough to use the opportunity afforded by that coincidence. I’d been so desperate for him, I’d have followed him back to his apartment, his car, or any dark corner without a thought.
My door opens, jerking me out of my thoughts. I look up to see Jack standing at the entrance to my office.
I haven’t thought about him in a while, but now that he’s standing right in front of me, it hits me that all the romantic hopes and dreams I’ve centered on him for the past two years have resulted in nothing, and there’s a small ache that comes with that realization .
“Hi,” There’s an uncertain frown on his face as he looks at me. His shirt is tucked into jeans, with a deep blue jacket slung over one shoulder. As much as I would prefer not to admit it, he does look good.
“Hi Jack.”
“You busy?”
That had always been his standard question. Usually, I’d say no, and then he would come in and sit on my desk. We’d talk, and he would make me laugh so hard my stomach would hurt. Now I can’t even imagine laughing at anything he says.
I give him a humorless smile. “I am, actually.”
“Rachel.” He draws out my name as he walks into my office, “Don’t be mad.”
Don’t be mad. That’s all he had to say. I snort. “I’m actually not mad, Jack, but I’m really kinda busy at the moment.”
He stares at me, then comes around the desk, leaning on it as he smiles down at me. “I’ve missed you, you know.”
“Yeah, the way you always do. You missed me when you were dating that flamenco dancer in Spain, that Italian swimmer you spent a month sailing with, the Brazilian model… You always miss me, but never enough to...” I stop, annoyed with myself for even allowing the outburst. “How’s your fiancée?”
“She’s great.”
“Good.”
He suddenly reaches for my hand, taking it in his. The touch is intimate, but not strange. I realize how often he’s touched me like this over the past two years, gestures of intimacy that keep me hoping, yet make no promises.
