Page 7 of Picture Perfect Love

Joshua

My phone was already blowing up with angry texts from Lucas and Camille before we even made it to the club. But they were the ones who told me to keep my drinking under control at the party, which I did. The time had come where in order for me to continue keeping it under control, I had to migrate elsewhere. Surely they preferred that over me staying at their snooty party and making a scene. I didn’t even think I was that much of a loose cannon, it was just that easy to disappoint and scandalize their crowd of people.

“Everything okay?” Abby asked from the other side of the backseat.

The sincere concern in her eyes gave me pause. I definitely wasn’t used to that with the party girls I usually hung around. They didn’t care how I was doing, as long as I kept paying for the drinks.

“Everything will be just fine now that you’re here,” I smirked, turning my phone off and sliding it into my pocket.

I didn’t know what it was about her, but something made me feel like that statement meant miles more than I even realized. She had a special je ne sais quoi, which must have been why she stood out to me from all those other waitresses and guests.

Once we arrived at the club, I led her to my private side entrance. The bouncers stopped us at the top of the stairs, but only to clear some private space for us in the VIP room.

“Wow, you’re like royalty here,” Abby noted.

“They’re counting on me causing trouble. And when I do, pictures get taken and put out there right along with the name of their club. They love me around here. It’s free publicity.”

“Oh, so is that why you can’t stay out of the tabloids? It’s how you earn your special treatment.”

“That could be one of the reasons,” I told her.

The VIP room was dark with strobing lights and speakers to blast whatever the DJ was playing on the main floor, which we could view from the balcony. And it had a dance floor that was far less crowded than the sweaty mess happening downstairs where it was packed with people.

I led Abby over to the bar and told her to order whatever she wanted. She chose a vodka martini while I stuck with my whiskey. After a few sips, she stared at me with a sly smile.

“So, Mr. Meadows. You got me here. Now what do you intend to do with me?”

“For starters, once you chug that, I’m going to ask you to dance.”

“Chug it?” she shrieked. “Slow down, buddy. I don’t go out all the time. If I start chugging drinks, you’ll have to carry me home.”

“I would be honored,” I winked.

She shook her head and paused for a minute. “I knew you were trouble.” And then she threw back what was left in the cocktail glass and held out her hand. “Alright. Let’s dance.”

A while later, with a few more drinks in between songs, we were sweaty and buzzed. Our dancing at first was awkward and rigid, but the more we drank and loosened up, the closer we moved together on the dance floor, with more ease. If we didn’t actually look good out there, we at least felt like we did.

But there was only so much grinding and gyrating against Abby’s body I could take before I needed a break to calm the erection that had been threatening to spring up.

“Wanna go somewhere more quiet and talk?” I shouted over the blaring music. She looked surprised. Her brow furrowed and she looked me up and down like I had just said the most absurd thing. “I thought you said you didn’t go out all the time,” I chuckled.

“I don’t. I just didn’t expect you to be the first one to ask to leave.”

“How often do I get to coax someone like you into hanging around me?”

“Probably more often than I’d like to know,” she quipped.

“While I have you, I want to get to know you.”

She seemed skeptical, but finally nodded and followed me out. The next private room we went to was at a restaurant and bar with a vintage Italian feel to it. It had Tiffany lamps and mahogany walls, and we were able to steal a dark corner booth where we could actually hear each other.

Maybe Abby was right to be surprised. I wouldn’t normally be one to beg to go off somewhere and talk, but that’s because I was used to being around shallow people who had nothing interesting to say. I could tell by her eyes that she wasn’t that type, and I wanted to enjoy it while I could.

“You said you’re in school?”

She took several gulps of water, then turned back to her freshly delivered cocktail. “I am. Pre-law.”

“Law? Wow, that’s impressive.”

---