Her heart nervously fluttered as she cruised into town. She wanted to go back to Blue Velvet the day after she poured her heart out to the so-so looking bartender with the kind face. But she was confused about her marriage, about what going back to the club would mean. It had now been almost three weeks, and divorce papers were on the way from her attorney's office to Mark's. They decided it was time to call it quits. No more lies. No more phony front. Just two people ready to move on amicably for the sake of their children. She was surprised how easy it was to walk away. Mark had lost her trust so long ago, it was really just formality at this point. But he was taking it well too, probably anxious to live his playboy lifestyle without the guilt. He offered her a fair settlement to help care for the kids and get back on her feet. There was some decency left in him after all.
The light turned red, and she stopped to touch up her lipstick in the rearview mirror. The lights from the car behind her cast a glow over her hair and made her lips shimmer. Suddenly she wondered if the bartender would be as happy to see her as she would be to see him. She hadn't come by the club or tried to contact him since the night they met. She didn't want to lead him on, and she didn't want him to be the reason her marriage broke up. That's no way to start a new relationship. Relationship? she thought. Listen to me already. You'll be lucky if he even remembers you, she thought to herself. Who was she kidding? Of course he would remember her. The black silk dress? No one could forget that black silk dress. The car behind her honked and she realized she was talking to herself. The light was green and she anxiously stepped on the gas.
She pulled right up to the curb where the valet rushed up and opened her door. He handed her a ticket and she made her way to the front of the club. It was busy and there were blue velvet ropes keeping the crowd in line against the side of the building. Before getting in line she tried to sneak a peek through the door to see who was tending bar. She hadn't even given any thought to the possibility he might not be working tonight. The bouncer asked her if she was meeting someone and she smiled. She sort of was meeting someone, but before she could reply he let her in. It must have been the dress. She left the black silk home that night and instead wore a second skin, black strapless. It was definitely the dress.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped in and scanned the room. She looked to her left and then moved her eyes around in a wide circle from one side of the room around to the other, never stopping to look into any of the faces. There was really only one face she was searching for. When she completely circled the room, her eyes led the rest of her to the bar on the far right. There he was. He hadn't noticed her yet, but she could feel herself heating up as she moved closer. Her skin flushed, her heart rate elevated, she wondered if he could sense her presence like fire spreading. Either he didn't see her, or he just pretended not to. She walked closer, hesitant but resolved. He was pouring a couple of drinks, a cocktail and a glass of red wine. She looked at the drinks and then at him. He hadn't looked up, but she noticed the sides of his mouth turned up. When she stepped up to the bar she noticed he had poured a vodka tonic with a twist and glass of Merlot. He noticed her. He remembered the two drinks she ordered the night they met. She smiled, and he asked, "Which one will it be?" He winked and she took a seat at the bar.
"I'll take the Merlot."
"That's a good sign... I think," he responded.
"If you mean that I don't need to drown my sorrows in a stiff cocktail, yeah I guess you could say it's good."
"That old fool wised up and quit stepping out on you, did he?"
"Maybe, I'm the one who wised up. I'm here, aren't I?"
"Yes. You. Are. So you threw the son of a bitch out?"
"Something like that. I don't want to talk about him though. Let's just say we're both moving on." He couldn't argue with that. He was just glad to see her. And if moving on meant coming here, well then he was all for it. He checked his watch wishing he didn't have to work. With her purse clutched under arm and her Merlot in hand, she danced backwards over to the band inviting him with her eyes, never breaking the deep gaze. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was radiant. She was happy, and that made her even more attractive than the last time he saw her. He only hoped she'd stick around until closing again. He wouldn't chance it. When the after midnight crowd slowed down, he asked the owner if he could take off.
She had worked up a pretty good sweat on the dance floor, and she was startled when he came up behind her. "How about some French toast?" Details. He remembered all the details of the night they meant. She ordered French toast at the diner.
"I'm ready for something different. I think I'd rather have Belgian waffles with ice cream." He grabbed her hand, and resisting the urge to kiss her right there he practically dragged her to the door. The air was still cool but they hardly noticed. On the way they talked about the weather and school and her kids and that night.
"I'm glad you came in tonight."
"Me too."
"You really are beautiful." She blushed and bit her lip. He leaned into her wantonly but stopped himself savoring the moments. Instead he opened the door and asked for a table for two. He pointed to one in the back by the window. They ordered one Belgian waffle sundae to share and two coffees. While they waited for their food he stared at her. She was so free to feel that she stared right back at him. By now, neither one of them cared about the food. They were only thinking about being alone together. Their food came, and they humored each other with small talk about how his classes were going, what she was going to pursue for work. They took obligatory bites of their food, but they were anxious to be somewhere more private. "I think I better take you home."
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