Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(50)

I mimed beer by bringing an imaginary bottle to my mouth. His eyes dipped to my mouth and stayed, losing interest in what I was saying. To prevent another attempted kiss, I leaned in quickly and shouted, “What do you want?”

He shrugged and stepped closer, misinterpreting my lean. I darted off to the bar and hailed the bartender with my cle**age—it was faster to wave the chest than the arm. His body appeared a second later, his chest skimming my side. I took that as a cue to text Candace. This guy’s dive into intimacy was freaking me out, making me constantly break out in sweats. I wasn’t ready for it. I needed a slow ascent. I needed time to get to know him, to trust him. My mind kept flashing back to unwanted hands between my…

“Let’s go!” I shouted, turning from the bar abruptly with beers in hand and a large tip left behind.

Through the rabbit hole of the bar, the place opened up into a freaking gi-normous dance club! Holy hell there was a lot of room. It must have been as big as an empty warehouse! To the front was a long stage atop a shiny, empty dance floor. Other than that, if they weren’t aisles, it was a sea of round tables and chairs, booths to the back and around the sides.

“Does this place get busy enough to fill this place?” I asked in a moderated tone. Randall shrugged.

The DJ was just setting up, which meant some random, and fairly quiet, country music was playing in the background. There was only a smattering of people so far, which would’ve filled an L.A. club half-full.

Land was cheap here in Texas. Go big or go home. I was standing in proof.

“Well, their air conditioning bill must be enormous!” I said noncommittally as I turned to the back wall and looked at my phone. “She said she was in the back…”

The back tables were all bare. There wasn’t even a kissing couple. I glanced at my phone again, sidestepping a leaning Randall.

“Oh, upstairs in the back.” Our heads started swiveling on our necks like fools. This was exactly what I had been trying to avoid.

Randall threw up a finger and pointed with his whole arm. I kept a groan at bay as I reached out and slammed his arm down to his side while following the initial point.

“We don’t want everyone knowing we don’t know where we’re going,” I said quietly, noticing a steep stairwell both to the right and left of the stage. It led to an open upper level that wound around the outside of the square building.

So, in essence, the whole building was a big box. The area I was standing in was a hollow to that box, reaching up to the top of the structure. Then the second floor sat over the first around the perimeter, reaching back to the outer walls. The place was even bigger than what I first thought.

“Is there, like, a code to going to one of these places, or something?” Randall said in a huff.

“Is there a code to your online games? Rules?”

“That is a game.”

“So is this, doll.”

I started toward the left with purpose, choosing that stairwell for no reason whatsoever, but it looked like I had a reason. That was the only important thing. Then, as I approached the bottom, Randall got his wish for contact. They were much too steep for me to clamber up gracefully in the four-inch heels I’d chosen.

I reached out my hand.

He stared at it.

“Randall, can you escort a lady up?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!”

He grabbed my hand with his.

“No, like this.” I positioned his arm like the guys had at the rodeo. “It is a firmer base. Otherwise it looks like you are leading an old woman.”

Randall nodded, focusing much too intently on getting it right. I needed to figure out how to turn this first date around. It was going down the crap shoot much too fast. Faster than normal for me, which was saying something.

The brief stint in acting class, where we had to walk up and down stairs without looking at our feet, really paid off in these situations. I kept my head up and my focus off my steps as we made our way up the wide, carpeted staircase. Once at the top, we wound around to the side, passing a smaller bar and stopping at a barrel chested man in his forties with a no-nonsense face.

“Jessica Brodie and guest,” I announced, looking around like I was checking out the place, even though all I could really see were shadowed areas, a banister, and a whole lot of empty space.

“Yeah, c’mon.” He tossed the list to the side, took a mental picture of my face, of Randall’s face, then unhooked the red rope and waved us through.

“Oh my God, Randall—VIP area! This so rocks!” I squeezed his arm happily.

“Uh, yeah.”

“It’s okay to be excited. It’s like getting to the last level and rescuing the princess.”

Randall snickered. “Haven’t played video games since the 90’s, huh? Since the main character was a little Italian with a mustache?”

I laughed and hugged his arm because it was so true. “I did win the game, though.”

“By cheating?”

“No!” I laughed. “But the shortcuts were helpful.”

We passed a waitress with a snotty expression, teased hair, and an empty tray. We also passed a lot of sections, mostly empty at this point, for other VIP’ers. But we were in the back! That must be prestigious!

“It looks like a large party,” Randall said, his playful mood faltering.