“Okay. But you’re missing out. If you think the crowd at The Lounge is wild, you should see us after a few drinks.”
“Maybe next time,” Mel said.
James grinned. He wasn’t a bad guy. For a manager, he was extremely laid-back. James was in his late twenties, and he treated his staff like friends. This included Mel, despite her constantly knocking back his invitations to come out for drinks. She hoped he didn’t have an ulterior motive. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy didn’t realize that he was barking up the wrong tree.
James pushed a tray toward her. It held a single glass of whiskey. “Can you take this to table six?”
“Sure.” Mel grabbed the tray and edged past the crowd. Table six was at the far corner of the room. As the crowd thinned in front of her, Mel’s heart skipped a beat.
It was her.
She sat alone, upright in her chair as if it were a throne. She wore an ivory silk dress that clung to her slender curves. Her jet black hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose, perfect waves, and her blue eyes were framed by long, dark lashes.
The woman was a regular at The Lounge, coming in around once a week. She always came alone and sat at that table by herself, watching the crowd but never speaking to anyone. Unlike all the other regulars, none of the staff knew anything about her. Not her name, not her job, not how she made her riches. And she had to be rich to afford to come to a place like The Lounge. All that Mel knew about her was that she always drank the same brand of top-shelf whiskey.
As Mel walked toward the woman’s table, she was cut off by a sharply dressed man in a suit. He’d had more than a few drinks. He leaned down toward the woman and flashed her a pearl-white smile, then said something to her that Mel couldn’t make out.
The woman gestured for the man to lean down closer. She whispered something into his ear. Slowly, his face turned redder and redder. Then without another word, he stood up and scurried off.
Mel watched the man depart. What did the woman say to him? When Mel turned back to her table, the woman was staring straight at her.
“Enjoy the show?” the woman asked.
“I…” Mel trailed off, flustered. She had never spoken to the woman before, beyond taking her orders and serving her drinks. “What did you say to him?”
“He tried to impress me with his name and his job. And he had some rather vulgar words for me. I told him my name, and that he should pray that we never cross paths out in the corporate world, because after speaking to me like that, I would make sure that no one does business with him again.”
Who was this woman that she could intimidate a man with nothing more than her name and some harsh words? Mel remembered the tray in her hands. “Your drink.” She placed the glass of whiskey on the table.
“Thank you.” The woman’s velvet voice sent a shiver careening down the back of Mel’s neck.
“Can I get you
anything else?”
The woman didn’t answer immediately. She picked up her drink, swirled it around and took a sip, leaving a red lip print on the rim of the glass. She placed it down on the table before her. “No. Thank you.”
Mel lingered at the table. She was intrigued by this woman. It wasn’t just that Mel found her irresistibly attractive. There was something different about her. On the surface, she undeniably belonged to the elite. From her stylish clothing down to her short, manicured fingernails, everything about her pointed to someone accustomed to a life of luxury. But she made no effort to flaunt her wealth and showed none of the entitlement of the other customers.
“Is there something else?” the woman asked.
Mel paused. She felt compelled to ask the woman something, anything. “Why do you come here?” The words tumbled out of Mel’s mouth. “It’s just that… you’re always by yourself, and you don’t seem to want to talk to anyone.”
The woman leaned back in her chair and studied Mel’s face. “You’ve been watching me.”
Mel’s face grew hot. She tucked a stray lock of her brown hair behind her ear.
“I like to watch people too,” the woman said. “That’s why I come here. And to enjoy the fine selection of whiskey that The Lounge has on offer.” Her eyes never leaving Mel’s, she picked up her glass and took another long sip.
Mel stood there, held captive by the woman’s gaze. Her heart raced. There was something in her eyes that Mel couldn’t quite decipher. Flirtation? An invitation?
A command?
A raucous shout from somewhere behind her broke Mel out of her trance. “I should go. Let me know if you need anything else.”
The woman nodded, her expression inscrutable. As Mel walked away, she swore that she could feel the woman’s eyes on her back.
Mel pulled herself together and made her way back to the bar. She was probably imagining things. Mel doubted that the woman even remembered her, considering how many servers worked at The Lounge.