Page 63 of David

“What about your date?” I toss at him.

“Stop asking questions,” he says humorously.

“I only go out with single men.”

Breathing a chuckle, he takes my hand.

“We’re not going out.”

Which is neither here nor there, but I follow him inside.

He signals to a couple of people who go upstairs and do… I have no idea what.To my surprise, we’re not following them.

Instead, we walk across the club, push through a side door, stroll down a long corridor, take a flight of stairs and an elevator, and enter what looks like the inside of a quiet hotel.

“Wait a minute. Where are you taking me?”

“To my place.”

“For real?”

“Yes.”

Something doesn’t make sense, yet the electronic beep of a door cuts our conversation short.

He pushes it open before inviting me in.

I hesitate, and he looks at me, holding the door for me and quietly searching my eyes.

“It’s drinks and dinner. I’m not going to force myself onto you,” he announces in an icy voice.

“If you insist,” I say and walk in.

Just as quickly, I pivot to him.

“Why is the table set for a dinner for two? Did you have plans with the other woman?”

He shoots me a scolding look before walking past me and pulling the chair for me.

“Questions… Questions,” I murmur, no longer expecting an answer.

He removes his jacket and approaches the bar.

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, already pouring two fingers of bourbon for himself, his back turned to me.

He seemingly needs that drink more than I do.

“A glass of wine. White wine, please.”

“Okay.”

I slide into my seat and look around the spacious room.

Two walls of glass let in the view of the entire valley.

I’ve heard stories about these hotel rooms and the naughty things happening in them.

“I asked for dinner to be brought here when I trailed you to the front of the building.”

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