Page 46 of Taking A Chance

My closet is divided into very distinct sections. The left is where all my work attire hangs. Slacks, button-ups, polos, pencil skirts and the like. The middle and veering right are my after-work items. Leather, tank tops, halter tops, skirts that can’t be worn to work, and ripped jeans. All the good stuff. But right, way right…that’s a part of the closet I rarely go in. Slinky dresses, things with slits, and backless items I never get to wear.

I don’t ever make it to this level of wardrobe for dates. Or I haven’t, until now. Not in a long time anyway. My hand glides over the soft fabrics, stopping on a long black dress I’ve been dying to wear. It’s crushed velvet, with a slit in the side that runs high enough to make people look twice. The back is open, and there are some strings at the top that hold the whole thing together. It screamsplease take me off. In short, it’s perfect.

I re-shave my legs in the tub. This isn’t the sort of thing you wear with even the tiniest hint of stubble. I top off the look with smokey eyes, a purple stained lip, and soft curls in my hair. When I step back from the mirror, I’m actually more than pleased, which is rare for me. This will definitely redeem me.

There’s a knock at my door as I grab the clutch from the back of my closet door and stuff my things into it.

Declan has precise timing. I guess living across the hall has other advantages. Not that being on time is at the top of my list.

I swing the door open wide, excited and nervous to see his reaction to what I’m wearing, and I’m not disappointed. He goes from biting his bottom lip to mouth hanging slightly open almost immediately and I’m pleased with the impact.

“Jesus,” he says. “You’re bewitching.” His eyes float over me, inspecting and admiring.

Bewitching, huh?I’ll take that. “Thank you.” I smile, tucking my hair behind my left ear as I take in Declan’s appearance.

He’s traded his jeans in for black pants, a stark contrast to the pristine white button-up and skinny black tie. Instead of a jacket, he has on a black vest, and his sleeves are rolled to his elbows.Fucking yum.There’s something about a man wearing a vest that makes my mouth water.

“You look amazing,” I say. “I love a man in a vest.”

“I’ll make a note to buy more,” he says, before he leans in and brushes a kiss against my lips. As he pulls back, he inhales deeply. “Did I ever tell you that you smell like peonies?”

I giggle. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, you do. And they’re my favorite,” he whispers, kissing my cheek.

“I’ll have to make a note of that,” I say, using his own words against him.

“Oh, please do,” he says.

Walking through the lobby, hand in hand, I realize we’re like,dating. Not just that we’ve gone on a date, but we are continuing to go on more dates. Multiple dates. That’s the very definition of dating.Right?

I’m still asking myself,are you really dating Declan Walsh? Are you really dating the man you’ve loathed for years? Did he really defile you on your own couch?”

The answer is yes, and it hasn’t lost its shock value.

Declan holds the door open for me, and a brisk wind rushes in. I’m glad I grabbed a jacket before we headed down.

“So, where to?” I ask. “You didn’t tell me why we were dressing up.”

“Well, it’s nowhere we can walk to,” he says, strolling toward the black sedan near the sidewalk. He opens the door, holding his hand out to me to help me inside. It’s not a limousine, but it is one of those fancy town cars, complete with a driver.

Surely, all this isn’t for a date?

“Wow,” I say, sliding into the back, the plush leather seats already warm. A woman could get used to this. “What’s with all the fancy?”

“I hope you’re in the mood to socialize,” he hints.

I nod, unconcerned about public gatherings. The job I do doesn’t afford me the luxury of being nervous around new people.

We head downtown, the smaller buildings turning larger the deeper we go. The sky is already dark, but the city is lit up and alive. The streetlamps illuminate the sidewalks, casting a warm glow on everyone that walks by.

The warmth of Declan’s hand overtakes mine, his skillful fingers lacing between my own. Slowly, he pulls my hand away from my lap, into his. I turn from my people-watching out the window as he continues lifting my hand to his mouth. His lips slowly brush across my knuckles and a warmth fills my chest.Yes, we’re definitely dating.

The car pulls in front of a venue I don’t recognize, and there are people out on the street, all gathered around a path.

“What the hell?” I say, peering out his window.

“I have an event tonight. It’s all very high society. My work is on display and I have to rub elbows with fancy people.” He smiles.

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