5
RAVEN
“Where to, Miss?”
“Back to the hotel.”
The door to the limousine falls smoothly, sealing me inside, before the driver strides to his side, takes his place behind the wheel, and steers the car away.
The house stays in the background like a gray, unpleasant memory.
That’s not how I thought this evening would go. But things are good. I keep repeating that to myself, convinced that they are, although resentment floods my heart.
It doesn’t take long, and we arrive at the hotel.
The driver climbs out first before holding the door for me, so I exit the limousine.
I linger in front of the hotel for a few more moments, waiting for him to turn around and leave, making the trip back, perhaps, when a cab pulls up in the front, depositing a few guests.
That’s my chance. I rush to the car, ask the driver if he’s free, and slide into the back seat.
“A club, please,” I say. “The more popular, the better.”
The man looks at me.
“I’m sure you know a place like that,” I say.
“Sure,” he murmurs.
“I want to dance,” I add.
“Of course. There’s dancing,” he says before giving me a swift once over and focusing on the road.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, crashing back into my seat.
The lights unfurl all around me, glowing in the water as we take the road to the respective venue. Before long, the car stops in front of one of the most popular clubs in Miami.
They have around-the-clock entertainment, aerial dancers, rooftop lounging, a great restaurant in the house, and state-of-the-art lights and sound systems/
Perfect.
I thank him, and minutes later, I’m inside, navigating an ocean of moving bodies, the music blasting, lights sweeping over me, getting me sucked into a surreal spiral of energy, blocking out my mind chatter.
It’s hard to talk and be heard, but people do it, having a fantastic time. I’ve never been to a venue like this, and it takes me a few minutes to adjust to the loud music, the phenomenal performances, the sea of sparkling club dresses, and the people shaking their bodies in a frantic rhythm.
I love it.
I love it so much I grab a drink from the bar, sip half of it, and then the next half before spinning on my heel and heading straight to the middle of the crowd.
I start dancing.
I dance like the world is about to end. Arms in the air, my empty glass dangling from my hand, my little purse tucked in the other.
I sway my hips, shake my butt, and become one with the rhythm, sweating in my dress and not caring.
I get so swept into the rhythm I lose the notion of time, shaking off all my thoughts, even the ones that have brought me here.
A burst of cheering comes from a group of women behind me. Like many other dancers, I turn around and look.