When We Dance

Strangely, the thought gets me hard. We had such great plans for tonight. A private party on a friend’s yacht. Watching the sunrise on the water.

She had other plans, though, and here we are, looking at a canvas of lights, trying to figure out in which building she might be, spending the night away… by herself.

Or with someone else.

“I’m going alone,” I say, looking around for the valet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Francisco mutters. “No fucking way. We’re coming with you.”

“She must be in one of the clubs,” I say when one of the concierge clerks exits the hotel, rushing in my direction.

“One of the bellboys saw her climb into a cab.”

“Uh-huh… Anything else?”

“He said they were headed downtown.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

The parking valet shows up behind him. I signal to him to bring me my car, and moments later, we hop into a rented Cadillac.

“Riding in style,” Alejandro says in a better mood this time, crashing into the back seat.

Francisco sits in the front, next to me.

“She’s going to pay for this,” Alejandro murmurs.

I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror while swerving the car away from the hotel.

“It’s not that easy. First, we have to find her. Then we have to grovel, and then we get to fuck her.”

Neither of them says anything.

They both turn their eyes away and look out the window.

We spend about an hour checking places, parties, clubs, and hotels.

Nothing.

We climb into our ride again before going down the list when my phone rings.

I pick it up fast, hoping that it’s her.

The concierge clerk talks quickly.

“Have you found her, sir?”

“No.”

“I have the cab driver here with me.”

“Put him on.”

I start to question him immediately, and he gives me the name of the club. It’s on our list, and now it’s at the top of our list.

I drop my phone in the cup holder and veer away.

“Let’s see if she’s still there.”