Page 73 of A Dark Melody

Wes and I talk about music in the back seat of the car as Sue sits up front.

“Should our song be a fast song or a slow song?” He asks.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“No? It’s all I can think about. Doing a song with Abbey Dark is like a dream come true.” I blush. “You haven’t done songs with anyone. It’s like an honor that you’d even think about doing a song with me.”

“I think our voices will go together well.” I shrug.

“I think so, too.”

We pulled up to the hotel, and Sue went to get our keys. Wes and I head to the bar to grab a drink. I order a vodka martini, and he gets some kind of scotch.

“Have a sip.” He holds out his glass with a light brown liquor in it.

“No. I am not a scotch person.”

“Just try it. It will burn for a second, but then you’ll get a hint of smokey wood flavor.”

I take the glass from his hand, lowering my mouth to it. The smell alone burns. I make a face, and he laughs. “Trust me. It tastes better than it smells.” I take a sip.

He is right. It does burn, but as I swallow, I get hints of smoke and wood. It actually doesn’t taste all that bad. I take another small sip before handing him his glass back.

“See, not all bad, is it?”

“I still prefer vodka.” I say. “We should get to the room. I need to change.”

I check my phone. Sue texted me the room number. We finished our drinks and headed up to the fourth floor, where my room was.

I knock on her door. She opens it. “You’re directly across the hall.” She points to the room 405. “I got a key so I can check on you. Do not use the deadbolt.” She says sternly. “I’m trusting you. Don’t make me regret it.” She hands me my bag and a key.

“I won’t.” I say and turn toward my room.

Wes follows me into my room, and I shut the door after he enters it. I sigh and look around the room. It’s your average five-star hotel room, but to me, it felt like heaven, like freedom.

“I’ll change real quick, then we can go.” I say, setting my bag down and bending over to unzip it.

“Okay.” He sits on the couch. “Do I get to watch or?” He smirks.

“I’ll change in the bathroom.” I say, pulling out my dress. “How nice of a place is it?” I ask again.

“Five stars. Waitlist for months.”

“Fancy. Going to let the label pay for it?”

“I’m not cheap. I like to pay for my own dates.”

“Is it a date?”

“You know what I mean.” I look over at him. “A friend date.” He waves his hand in the air. “Formalities.” He shrugs.

“How did you bypass the waitlist?”

“I’m Wesley Whitmore.” He shrugs again. “They booted some lesser known, I’m sure.”

“Seems a little much for a friend date.” I say playfully.

“Best friend date.” He smiles at me.

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