Good lord he was sexy. His muscles bulged under his suit. His dark hair against tan skin, like he’d been in the sun.
I had forgotten about the stage and the dance floor. The man kept looking at me and smiling, and I couldn’t help but smile back. It was sincere and so simple, that I turned away from the room and towards him, my elbow on the bar, as if I was the bartender.
“May I help you?”
“You might.”
It was at that moment that I decided that whatever happened after this, the night wouldn’t be wasted. Just this small interaction with this absolute hottie was better than anything I’d had in month. I already imagined going out with him. Going on a romantic picnic somewhere in the country, away from the busy city, from all the noise and the troubles. We could spend a nice weekend at a resort or on the beach, if the weather allowed…
A girl could dream, couldn’t she?
I wasn’t sure why he was here. His suit was fresh, but it would’ve looked more at home at a business meeting than at a nightclub. I caught a glance at his watch, and it was an expensive one, but not ostentatious, and he didn’t make a point of showing it to anyone.
Was he here for the auction? It didn’t seem like it. He certainly didn’t look like the type to bid on a girl, he could have anyone in here.
And then, like it always happened with me, I began convincing myself not to get my hopes up. How many times have I fallen for a nice guy who had turned out to be just another asshole?
Now, I fully expected him to deliver some cheesy pickup line. What’s a fine girl like you doing in a place like this? The oldest one in the book.
Yet, he didn’t. He was still smiling at me, as if I was the one who had called for him, and he was all ears.
It took me another moment to finally shake the spell, and I said, “So, Mr. Blue. You want to buy me a drink or something?”
He only narrowed my eyes, looking straight into mine. I felt like we were talking without saying a word. He was drumming my fingers on the bar, thinking.
“Mr. Blue?”
I laughed. “Yes, Mr. Blue in the club with a drink. Probably a good start to a murder mystery don’t you think?”
“Interesting.” He was silent for another moment and my palms started sweating. What the hell was I talking about?
Finally, he said, “I don’t think so. Do you want to buy me a drink?”
Ha! Ballsy. I bit my lip. What was my play here? If this was some trick, I had to admit I was falling for it. I was intrigued.
I laughed. “Okay, I’ll buy this round. What’s your poison?”
“Whiskey rocks. A finger.”
“Just one?” I uttered out of nowhere, feeling my cheeks turn red.
“Let’s start with one,” he winked. I wasn’t sure if he was playing along with the dirty subtext or didn’t catch it. Either way, I waved the bartender over and recited the order. When it was delivered, I handed him the glass.
“Your whiskey on the rocks, sir.”
I took my own glass, there was still some wine in it, and we toasted.
“I’ve never served drinks before. How did I do?”
He licked his lips, swallowed his first sip, then responded. “Pretty good. Minus the fingers comment.”
I laughed out loud, and he joined me. “Well, thank you for your feedback!”
“You’re welcome.” He winked at me and I felt like my skin was on fire. What was I doing? Having a drink with some random millionaire, him not knowing that I was nobody special.
“I’m Owen, Owen Hayes, and you are?”
I offered him my hand to shake it, but instead he brought it to his lips and kissed it lightly. A shiver went through my body. “Sydney.”