Page 24 of Love From the Ashes

“I told you the dress was perfect, and you look gorgeous,” Della said, laughing. She seemed highly amused by the usher’s sudden change of heart.

“I agree, as long as Sofie doesn’t bend over. She is a bit taller than you,” Adam said, pointing at my hemline.

“I told you the dress was too short!” I pulled on the stretchy fabric, trying to bring my hemline down.

“Oh, stop it,” Della said, pulling my hand away from the dress. “You look fine. Adam is acting like a mother hen, that’s all. Now can we go inside? I want a drink.”

Adam looked at me and rolled his eyes. “We better go. The queen is thirsty.” He let out an exaggerated shriek when Della swatted him. Then he took my arm and escorted me to the coat check area, leaving Della staring at our backs.

I tried to suppress my laughter, failing as giggles escaped from behind my palm. Hanging out with these two was like being in a comedy skit.

We checked our coats. Then I followed Della and Adam up a staircase and into the club. Unsure of what to expect, I scanned our surroundings, taking in every detail. A disc jockey was performing on the stage, the music energetic and loud. The lighting was dim on the dance floor and surrounding VIP sections, and there was a bar and open area off to our left. Glancing up, I spotted another level above us, several people standing at its glass wall, looking down at the people below. The place was busy, with standing room only, except for the VIP seating.

Adam showed our tickets to one of the ushers standing at the top of the short staircase leading to the dance floor. The man led us down the stairs and through the crowd to a leather-covered booth-like seat with a small coffee table fronting it.

“What do you want to drink?” Adam said after getting situated in our booth. He motioned to a server as she hurried by our table.

The woman mouthed that she’d be back.

“I want a margarita on the rocks,” Della said. “Sofie, how about you?”

“A Coke, that’s all.”

“You’re not drinking?” Della raised an eyebrow at me.

“No, I feel completely out of place right now, so I’d rather not.”

“Suit yourself.” Della shrugged her shoulders, turning to study the crowd.

Adam ordered our drinks when the server returned. I sat there, eyeing the dance floor, shocked at the number of bodies crammed together in such a small space. I was turning away when someone caught my attention. It was Alice from human resources. I shifted in my seat to tell Della that Alice was here, but she’d already seen her.

Della nodded toward Alice. “I don’t know any of the people Alice is with, but I know they’re not from work. It looks like she’s part of a bachelorette party.”

I nodded at Della, not caring either way. My immediate concern was getting through the night without having bodily contact with a floor full of strangers.

The disc jockey sidelined my concern a moment later when he played a popular song I happened to love, the beat making it impossible to stay still.

Adam jumped up and pulled me to my feet. “We have to dance to this one.” He motioned for Della to join us.

The three of us went out to the floor. Della and Adam danced while I stood there, trying to keep from getting bumped and pushed.

“What’s wrong?” Adam called out, trying to make his voice heard over the music.

“I don’t know how to dance,” I called back, my cheeks burning while I eyed the people around me, hoping no one heard what I said.

“That’s nonsense. Just move your body to the music.” Adam grabbed my hand and danced with me. He sang to the music while making faces at me, spinning me around as he executed some hilarious dance moves. He was clearly trying to put me at ease.

Della was hysterically laughing as she danced with the two of us. After several songs, I had to admit I was having fun. After a few more rounds of dancing, the three of us returned to our booth to take a break.

Adam wiped his forehead with a napkin and grinned at me. “I told you it would be fun. And I have no idea why you said you didn’t know how to dance. You looked like you were doing pretty good out there.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the VIP area next to the stage. “I wasn’t the only one who thought so either. A couple of those guys sitting by the disc jockey have their eye on you, and one of them is pretty cute. He’s the tall guy in the white shirt with the rolled-up sleeves.”

“They’re drunk,” Della said, watching the group. “The guy in the red shirt is obnoxious. I saw him bump into a couple of people on the dance floor. He tried to get overly friendly with some woman until her boyfriend pushed him away and told him to back off. One of the douchebag’s friends pulled him off the floor.”

“Seriously? I didn’t see a thing.” Adam took another look, scrunching his nose when the guy in the red shirt jumped up and down to the music and bumped into people. “Della’s right. A couple of them act like they’ve had too much to drink, especially the guy acting like a human jumping bean.”

“I don’t believe it,” Della said, the surprised tone in her voice causing Adam and me to turn around and follow her gaze. “Reid Morgan is here. He went over to the corner table next to the wall. I told you he’s a player. He joined that sleazebag that comes in here from time to time.”

“Who’s the guy?” I said brusquely, disliking Della’s labeling of Reid. Although I’d heard her call him a player on several occasions, this time, it bothered me.

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