Page 11 of Playbook
High-profile. The thought makes me want to snort. This is the same guy whose diet consists mostly of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Which made it especially funny tonight when the chef came out to say hello and asked how the food was. I think he was expecting more than the one-word “Excellent” response he got. But he sent over dessert after so maybe he wasn’t too offended by our lack of proper foodie adjectives.
By the time we make it to Gaga, the hottest club in town, I’m full and happy and ready to do exactly what Alec planned for us—drink and dance with hot strangers.
The second we step into the door of the club, he runs into a girl who works for the local football team, the Mavericks. Or used to work for them. I missed the details, but we’re welcomed into the VIP area and I quickly find myself standing around, not quite part of the conversation.
Someone is celebrating a birthday, judging by the balloons and number of champagne bottles I’ve seen brought up in the thirty minutes we’ve been here.
We’re on the fringe of the VIP area, but I watch the people coming and going. Girls in short, sexy dresses and big guys that are probably football players. Most of them are dressed more casuallythan the girls, but many are wearing diamonds around their neck and wrists in that way pro athletes always do. Do they just run out of things to buy or did they always wish for a necklace that weighs five pounds?
I don’t really follow sports, much to Alec’s dismay. He played tennis and soccer all through high school and part of college, and because of his job, he’s always in the know about local sports teams.
The club itself is nice. I came one other time with Alec, but we only stayed for one drink because his girlfriend at the time found out that my very friendly roommate had slept with the bartender. Not while they were together or anything, but Vickie (the ex) still wouldn’t stay anywhere near, and I quote, “that fucking whore.”
The VIP area is on the second level of the club. Plush black sofas and chairs are scattered around, and crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Music pumps up from the dance floor below, but it’s quiet enough to talk if you yell or stand close enough.
Alec nudges me, pulling me back into the conversation he’s having with Laura, the one with the in with the Mavericks.
She smiles and leans closer to speak directly to me. “My friends are in the back corner. Do you want to come have a seat with us?”
Alec waits for my approval. He’s good about always looking out for me since I’m not as social as he is.
“Actually, I’m going to walk around, maybe hit the dance floor.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Alec offers.
“No, I’ll be fine.” I wave him off. These new shoes are a smidge too tight and my feet already hurt. Plus, I recognize the look Alec is giving Laura. He likes her and is hoping she’ll be coming home with us later.
I only make it as far as the bar before Alec rejoins me.
“I told you I was fine,” I tell him. “Where’s Laura?”
“VIP.” He settles in next to me. “I told her I was coming to check on you and she got all misty-eyed. Girls love my caring, sensitive side.”
I hum my disapproval at being used to pick up women. Not that he really needs a hook, I suppose. And he is caring and sensitive, so I guess it isn’t like he’s lying to get them into bed. Just playing the part a little too well.
He orders our drinks and before I know it, he’s found someone else he knows. He tries to keep me in the conversation but it’s too loud and too packed. Once I have my drink in hand, I fall back, people-watching.
Downstairs isn’t quite as interesting as VIP and it’s not long before I’m scanning the area we were just at. The girls are all gorgeous. The guys too. Even the ones that aren’t that cute, still look cute. It must be some sort of professional athlete magic.
My gaze snags on one in particular. Tall, actually one of the tallest, which is saying something, muscular, but not the freaky kind that looks like they wouldn't fit through a doorway. While most of the other guys are in jeans and T-shirts, he has on a white button-down with short sleeves rolled up to show off his big biceps. There’s something else about him though. He has a nice smile and warm eyes, and he’s animated. While he talks, everyone around him is giving him their full attention. I can’t hear him from here, I can barely hear Alec standing next to me, but as this guy talks, I find myself smiling in response to his facial expressions and wild hand motions.
When Alec is finally done making friends, we cheers, down our drinks, and then head to the dance floor.
Alec is a good-looking guy and he’s super fun, but there’s never been anything but friendship between us. Maybe it’s because when I met him I was still a mess over Chris and had no interest in any guy, or maybe it’s because shortly after that we started living together and we knew it would be too awkward if we crossed that line. Whatever the reason, I’m thankful we can dance and have fun. I can be completely myself without worrying. I know he’ll look after me and he knows I’ll do the same for him.
After we’ve danced to several songs, never leaving each other’s side to make good on our dance with strangers’ plan, we head back to the bar. Alec leans over after he orders our drinks. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Be right back.”
I manage to snag a spot at the bar that isn’t crowded and set my drink down. I pull my hair off my neck to cool down and get sucked into the conversation of the two girls standing next to me. They are facing each other, wide-eyed and grinning, in that typical girl-talk pose that makes me miss my best friend. I hope she’s having fabulous sex tonight.
“I don’t even care that he probably wouldn’t remember my name tomorrow morning,” the girl closest to me says. She has long brown hair that touches her ass and almost the hem of her skirt.
The other girl has short blonde hair. They’re proof that opposites attract and that you can be hot with any hair color or length because they’re both gorgeous. “I gave him my number.”
“What? When?”
“I wrote it on a napkin and handed it to him while you were buying our drinks.”
“What did he do? What did he say?” Her long brown hair swishes around her back and I get a whiff of her shampoo. It’s nice.
