Two

“Hey Mike,” I greeted softly. I got into the backseat of his car while Cassie took shotgun. He looked back at me and smiled. “All settled in, Willow?”

I nodded. “Thanks for all your help.”

“My pleasure to help a beautiful girl.”

I blushed, but brushed his compliment off with light laughter. Was Mike flirting with me?

He looked at Cassie as he began driving, explaining that the pub we were headed to was owned by his older brother’s friend and that it was a very hot place right now. “Entry is a bitch there. So you should be grateful I’m getting you two in.”

I was about to say a polite thank you, but Cassie beat me to it, “As if you’re not just taking us so you can flirt with Willow.”

His eyes widened. He looked back at me for a second, but I didn’t say anything. God, was Cassie trying to set us up? I mean, Mike was nice. And he was cute, too. But I just didn’t see him that way.

Cassie looked back at me and winked. I rolled my eyes at her.

When we reached, Mike greeted the bouncer, who graciously let us in without checking our IDs. As the dark interiors came to sight, I felt the world outside shrink. The din of traffic was replaced by a low, smooth hum of conversation and the clinking of ice against glass. Dim light bathed the room, casting long shadows that danced across the plush leather armchairs and polished mahogany tables.

My heels clicked softly on the marbled floor. Every surface seemed to scream riches. Mike had been right. This was a place for rich people.

A group of men in tailored suits huddled around a low table, their laughter a muted rumble. Women, their dresses clinging to curves I could only dream of, perched on bar stools, their diamond earrings catching the light.

I clutched my clutch bag a little tighter, the leather suddenly feeling cheap against the opulent surroundings. Cassie nudged me with her elbow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Feeling a little underdressed?” she teased, her voice barely a whisper.

I swallowed, a knot forming in my throat. "A little," I admitted, glancing down at my outfit. "But hey, at least I look fabulous for a broke college student, right?"

She grinned, her bright red lipstick flashing in the dimness. "Absolutely. Now come on, let's find a seat before they notice we snuck in on good vibes alone."

Mike nodded at the bartender, and led us to a corner where we snagged two plush armchairs tucked into a corner.

Light dance music was playing, and some people were dancing at the designated area. I looked around some more. Everyone here looked like old money.

As I sank into the soft leather, I took a deep breath. This wasn't my usual scene, but there was a certain thrill in the air, a sense that anything was possible. Maybe for one night, I could pretend to be a part of this world.

“Drinks, ladies?” Mike asked. We both agreed heartily. He didn’t ask us what we wanted. A moment later, he came back with three whiskey sours. I drank it slowly. It tasted good. Strong, but good. I was already a little tipsy. By the time I finished this drink, I’d be drunk.

Cassie scanned the room. Her eyes narrowed in on two men in suits near the bar area. “I’m gonna talk to those guys.”

I coughed. “Both of them?”

She shrugged, “Well, why not?” She beamed at Mike and I, taking her drink in her hand and purposefully moving towards the men. Her hips swayed as she walked. Oh, Cassie had got this.

“Well,” Mike spoke, sitting down in front of me. “Do you like it?”

I licked my lips. “It’s…opulent.”

He chuckled. “Opulent?”

I nodded. “I mean…rich people. Rich place.”

He agreed. “Well, you want to dance a bit?” He extended his hand toward me. I didn’t want to dance with him. If I had come here looking to meet men, Mike was not one of them. But as I looked around, I realized I did not have the confidence to speak to any of the men here. And it wasn’t like they would come to me.

I sighed. I took his hand, giving him a small smile. He led me to the moderately populated dance floor. I didn’t know what song was playing, but it was nice and upbeat. As we danced, my head spun a little. This was the perfect amount of drunk. I could let loose while I was still in my senses.

Mike’s hand snaked around my waist, pulling me a little closer. I shifted away uncomfortably. His hand was still on my waist, but we were further apart now as we danced. I tried to throw my best moves. I was a good dancer, if nothing else.

When the song ended, I pulled away from him. “I need some water,” I panted. “I’ll get some at the bar.”

He nodded. “I’ll just get back from the restroom and see you in a bit.”

A little grateful to be rid of him, I began making my way to the bar. I felt bad for not reciprocating Mike’s moves on me, but I just wasn’t interested in him. I just wasn’t feeling it. Maybe this meeting people in bars business just wasn’t for me.

I leaned against the bar and smiled at the bartender. “Can I get a water, please?”

He nodded, registering my request as he continued mixing drinks for the group of older women right in front of him. It looked they had ordered something complicated, because he was doing too much. I waited for what seemed like a long while with no end in sight. He was still making drinks. My legs hurt in my long, long heels. I eyed the seat I had left empty and turned around to go there and sit, when a voice from beside me said authoritatively, “The lady asked for a water a while ago, man.”

I turned my head to look at the man who had spoken. He was looking straight at the bartender. “Oh, it’s really okay. He seems busy.” By the time I had finished my sentence, there was already a tall glass of water in front of me. Huh, I guess this man was important here or something.

“Thank you.” I spoke softly. I hungry gulped down the entire glass of water. The icy water cooled my insides. I sighed in relief. The man was looking down at me, a slight smile gracing his features. Since he had turned toward me, the light shone on his face. He looked older than me. But he was very handsome, in a roguish way. A light stubble covered his sharp jaw. His cheekbones were high, like that of a model. Maybe he was a model.

“You were pretty thirsty. Want some more?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, he was already asking the bartender for more water, and within a moment, I finished up that glass, too.

“I was dancing,” I told him, “Its tiring. Besides, it’s good to hydrate.”

His eyes bore into mine. The dim lights meant I couldn’t tell what color they were. I imagined there were a bright, corn blue. It would be a surprising contrast to his tan skin.

“Dance with me.” He said. It was more of a statement than a question.

I giggled. “Geez, mister. You haven’t even bought me a drink yet.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What have you been drinking?”

I frowned. “I had a whiskey sour. But really, I just wanted something fruity. And pink.”

He chuckled lowly. “How about some pink gin for you?”

“I’ve never had that.”

“You shall tonight.”

He ordered me a pink gin seventy five, whatever that was, and an old fashioned for himself.

When my drink arrived, I had to some pictures, because it was so cute and pretty. I wondered if he was judging me for doing that. Did he think it was juvenile of me?

When I drank it, I grinned with happiness. “It’s so good!”

“Let me taste it,” he murmured. I was about to offer him my glass, but he beat me to the offer. He reached out with a lone finger, collecting a drop of the cocktail from my lower lip. He lightly licked the tip of his finger. My breath stopped for a second.

He didn’t say anything.

He lifted my chin with his finger, watching me, as if he was studying my face. “What do I call you?”

Anything you want, I wanted to say. “Willow,” I said, instead.

“I’m Declan.” He spoke. “Drink up, Willow. You owe me a dance.”