Page 5 of Mister Daddy
Halfway through the drink, I start to feel the alcohol working its magic in my system. I’m not even close to drunk, but the buzz warms me from the inside out.
“Let’s dance,” I yell to my friends. Their faces pull into wide, proud smiles.
“I knew you needed a drink!” Jessica responds, grabbing my hand over her shoulder and pulling me deeper onto the dance floor.
The DJ seamlessly transitions from a song I’ve never heard to a pop hit from a few years ago. The familiar beat moves my large hips from side to side as my hands raise up over my head. I’m careful not to spill my drink on anyone as I shimmy to the song.
Caitlyn and Jessica flank me, both of them writhing like graceful sylphs. I’ll never be like that. I’m more of a ba-dump, ba-dump type dancer, with my booty and boobs bumping up and down. I chug down the rest of my drink, willing the liquid courage to take hold.
The next song is another new one that makes me feel old, but I’m already more relaxed than I was when the elevator dropped us off. We keep dancing to the fast-paced songs, laughing and spinning each other around the floor. Other passengers join in on our fun, and we end up accidentally forming a dance circle. I’m not brave enough to jump into the center, but Caitlyn and Jessica do, and it’s pretty hysterical. Their hair flies every which way while passengers clap like we’re at a crazy Greek wedding. Hmm, I wish I had a camcorder.
I feel around for my phone because it has a really nice camera, but then remember I left it in my room. Damn. I’d love to record my two friends dancing like fools. But there’s nowhere on this dress to hide a phone, and I didn’t bring a purse. Caitlyn and Jessica assured me I wouldn’t need my phone since the three of us would be together the whole night, but I feel a bit naked without it. Such are the trials and tribulations of modern life.
When they’ve had enough of the attention, Jessica and Caitlyn re-join me in the ring of the dance circle. Our bodies move together in time with the song and I’m reminded of the good times we used to have.
The girls and I used to go out a lot more, before I took on more clients at the accounting firm where I work. They work at the firm too, but they started later than I did. We’d had the same number of clients until about six months ago when one of the other accountants left to open a firm of his own and I got the half of his old clients who didn’t move with him. My friends weren’t jealous of that, though – neither Jess nor Cait really wanted to increase their workloads. But it meant that I didn’t get to spend as much time with them. That’s partly why we’re on this trip in the first place.
“Thank you for making me come,” I yell into Jessica’s ear. “I’m glad I’m here.”
She smiles warmly and takes my hand, spinning me around. “I’m glad you’re here, too. We’re going to have the best week ever!”
We continue dancing until our feet are dead, but it’s still too early for us to leave. You’d think we’d be exhausted since it’s the first day and we got up early, but instead, energy pulses through our bodies.
“Another drink?” Caitlyn suggests. We follow her lead toward the bar and manage to find three stools together. I plunk down immediately, groaning when my feet leave the ground.
“I hate these shoes,” I gripe. I resist the temptation to pull my foot into my lap and massage it. My black-heeled sandals are the bane of my existence, but they are the only fancy shoes I brought. And they just happen to match the dress well enough that my friends let me wear them instead of trying to squeeze my large feet into their two-sizes-too-small heels.
Jessica summons her new favorite bartender and orders us three vodka sours. He dumps at least three shots worth of vodka into the bottom of the plastic cups before filling them the rest of the way with whatever makes up the ‘sour’ part of a vodka sour. With a flirty smile, he slides the drinks over to Jessica and takes her card.
I take a slow sip of my new drink and cringe at the high alcohol content. Vodka is supposed to be tasteless, but to me, the bitter sting on my tongue is unmistakable. I take another sip anyway.
Jess and Caitlyn finish their drinks with a few chugs and ask for another, but I work slowly on mine. While they flirt with the bartender for even stronger drinks, I turn around on my stool and take in the room.
The dance floor is directly in front of us with the DJ up against the wall to the right. It tapers out the further left you go, eventually turning from hardwood to tile to carpet. Leather couches and chairs are arranged in a dark corner. I hate to think what kinds of bodily fluids are soaked into that furniture to be honest. Even though they look clean at the moment, I’m sure the staff uses industrial-strength detergents to remove stains every night.
But suddenly, a pair of blue eyes catch my own and I shiver involuntarily. Who is he? There’s a giant shadow sitting across the way in the cave-like corner of the dim club, and I can’t make out much more than broad shoulders and a massive chest. A light from the moving disco ball on the ceiling flashes over him briefly, and the sapphire glint from his eyes startles me again, making me go warm all over. How is this possible? I can’t even see his face, much less the expression guarding his lips.
And yet, somehow I know this man is attractive. It’s more than the broad form or the air of power and domination that seeps from his frame. It’s the fact that even across thirty feet of crowded dance floor, he’s made me feel his presence. I’m warmed by it, and gasp involuntarily, unable to tear my eyes away.
Because I should stop looking at him, but I can’t. He smiles, his teeth white against the shadows surrounding him. The man doesn’t break eye contact, so uncharacteristically, I don’t either. It’s the alcohol or the new setting making me bold, and I roll with it.
Another spotlight rakes over his body, giving me a glimpse of his body in a perfectly cut suit. Who dresses for a club like they’re going to the office? The other guys in the room are in sneakers, shorts, and t-shirts. Some wear polos, but most are casual, a few even with backwards baseball caps on their heads. This guy is the only one who looks put together, like a dark, dangerous animal.
His hair is cut short, and his strong jaw is clean of stubble. Everything about his look screams “I paid a lot for this.” Normally, people who look like money are a turn off, but it’s more than that with the stranger. His attire and bearing scream power, assertiveness, and domination.
I feel myself attracted to his aura, like I’m being pulled towards a supernova. Suddenly, a voice cuts in.
“What are you looking at?” Jessica shrieks in my ear, forcing me to peel my eyes from the attractive man and focus on her.
“Nothing,” I hedge. I glance back, but the man is gone. Was he ever there? I can only see shifting shadows in the corner, occasionally punctuated by the colored lights of the dance floor. I shake my head, like a drunk rousing himself from a dream. Maybe he was never there to begin with. Maybe I’m just soused out of my mind and hallucinating with a blood alcohol content three times the legal limit.
Suddenly, there’s a disturbance of the air at my left and immediately my heart begins pounding. I know who it is before I even turn, but when my eyes meet his, I realize that none of this was a dream. The mysterious stranger is tall, strapping, with a brooding face like an avenging angel, and eyes so blue that my heart seizes in my chest. But his voice, when it comes, is startlingly mellifluous for a man so large.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he says in a low baritone. “Can I buy you a drink?”
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Carter