Page 113 of The Import Slot
This is so awkward. I don’t even finish my dessert; my appetite is completely gone. I make eyes at Jani on the table opposite and point down at my bowl; he takes about five seconds to come and grab it from me.
Once the plates are cleared, and everyone is done eating, the music starts.
“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?” Rochelle says, batting her eyelashes.
“No,” I say as I excuse myself and head over to Jenna.
“Ryan!” Vicky’s yell finds my ears, stopping my progress.
“What?” I say, spinning to face her.
“Remember, you need to dance with some of the ladies. I don’t mean Jenna.”
I don’t reply. Instead, I head over to Jenna’s table and nudge Bettsy on the arm before taking Jen’s hand.
“Rochelle is a fucking snake,” I say to Bettsy.
“I told you. Keep away!” he says before disappearing toward the bar.
“Hey, you want to dance?” I say, pulling her toward the dance floor.
I stop at the DJ booth and indicate that I have a request. I pull a twenty out of my wallet and hand it over, giving him my choice. He gives me a thumbs up, and as soon as the current song ends, The Beach Boys - Don’t Worry Baby plays through the speakers.
“You sod!” Jen says playfully.
I can’t help but laugh. This is her guilty pleasure song. She loves it, but she doesn’t want to admit that she does. This song is always on a playlist that we share on Spotify.
She’s smiling, and it’s a moment I want to remember forever.
“Dance with me?” I say, pulling her into me.
Other couples fill the dance floor, but it’s only us two right now. Nothing and no one else matters.
“Have you had a good evening?” Jen asks me, her chin resting near my shoulder.
“Not really. Why did you have to sit with Bettsy?”
As soon as it’s out, I realise I sound like a child who didn’t get his choice of toy for Christmas.
“Ry, I couldn’t take up all your time. Your fans adore you!” she laughs but knows I’ve never been big into schmoozing with the fans.
I do it because I have to. Johnny, on the other hand, loves it, and he loves it when they swoon all over him.
“Looks like Bettsy is getting close with Rochelle again, anyway,” Jen says, nodding toward the bar.
Bettsy is leaning against the wood counter, drink in hand, laughing. It’s his fake laugh, though. Any of the guys would know it.
“Ready to go?” Jen asks me.
“One more song,” I say, like the love-sick puppy I am, keeping her pinned to me.
We stay for four more songs, and I’m so in love it’s ridiculous.
Chapter 30
Jenna
Vickyisscowlingather screen.She taps away at her keyboard and then abruptly closes the open window on her display. “These fucking boys,” she says under her breath before sliding her chair back and standing up.She leaves her heels under her desk and pads off toward the corridor leading to the boardroom, kitchen and GM’s office.
