Page 52 of Fraud
“Um, sure.” she answered, looking as awkward as I felt. “I’ll be right back.”
“Fantastic,” I grumbled.
I’d been reduced to the table bitch while my date danced with another guy.
From where I was situated, I could still see the dance floor as Brian led Kate toward it. She looked lighter, a happy smile on her face as she reacquainted herself with the tall stranger.
His hand brushed the small of her back, and I felt a growl rumble in my belly.
“Fucking asshat,” I mumbled.
Brian spun her around, and she laughed. Soon, their bodies were so close, there was no doubt what intentions he had for the evening.
Of course, he was an excellent dancer, twirling her with precision at all the right times, only to return her exactly where she’d started.
Fucking right on top of him.
“That’s it,” I growled.
“Sorry?” the waitress asked as she approached, drinks in hand.
“Can you bring me a shot of tequila?” I asked.
She nodded before I added, “Actually, make it two. Oh, and do you see that guy over there? The one with his hands all over my fucking date?”
She turned to where my hand was pointed.
“Does he have a tab open?”
She nodded.
“Good. Put our drinks on his tab.”
She gave me a knowing smirk, making haste back to the bar. Within a few minutes, she returned, tequila shots in both hands. Obviously, she had an interest in how this would all turn out for me.
Guessed I owed her a show.
Taking both amber-colored shots, I downed them one after the other, feeling the cheap liquor burn all the way down.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go reclaim my date,” I announced before adding, “On the dance floor.”
Dance. I was going to go dance.
For a woman.
Damn it all to hell.
