“Get off me cat,” Heather shouts as her furry companion rubs against her leg. She gently pushes him away with her foot. “I can’t get dressed with you constantly humping me, now scoot, Fred.” The cat scuttles off and hides under the dresser.

She was supposed to be ready ten minutes ago but she got sidetracked with the folder Jim gave her and there was tons of information to review. After attaching some of the photos on the wall, she went through the financial reports and what she found was that this owner of the club was loaded. Not your average everyday millionaire, as if that’s normal, but loaded. Based on the financial records, the paper trail went on for years, so old in fact that some of the records appeared to be scanned from microfilm. More pictures of the owner were included in the report, but these were from an entirely different time period. In fact, some of them were actual scanned copies of paintings. This baffled the hell out of her because even if the same family owned a business, there was no way that this person could look the same throughout that long period of time. Other inconsistencies such as Jim mentioning in his report that there were no marriage or death certificates further gave her a feeling of confusion. She thought about the night that Kylie disappeared and how she had looked scared at certain points during the night. At the time, Heather chalked it up to her being anxious about school, but the more she thought it, the more she believed that it was something else. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but before she had the chance to think more on it, her clock reminded her that she was late in getting ready.

She runs to her closet and frantically searches for the corset Jess convinced her to buy a couple of months ago. Success. Heather fell in love with the deep red color of the garment and its delicate lace overlay. It definitely went perfect with her black mini and thigh high suede boots. A jet-black leather jacket completes the outfit. Not wanting to apply an excess amount of make up to look like a street walker, Heather gives herself the natural look, but takes a bold step, making her lips red.  Steve won’t know what hit him.

Glancing in the mirror, Heather doesn’t recognize herself. She hasn’t dressed up for a date in years, and is pleased with the results. Still having some reservations about going out, she pushes the thoughts out of her head and decides to make the best of it.

“Dammit, cat,” she growls. “Will you leave me alone? You’re getting hair all over the place.” Grabbing her water spray bottle, she squeezes a few spurts, causing the animal to scurry in the direction of the living room. Heather puts the bottle down, grabs the lint brush and cleans the cat hair off her boots.

Heather’s anxiety is at an all-time high. Not only does she have a blind date to push through, but now that she knows how to possibly find Kylie. To top it off, when she does find her friend, she has to figure out how to go about getting her out. She considers involving the police, but quickly squashes that idea because of how they treated her before.

So totally screwed, she thinks to herself as she finishes up getting ready. Setting down the lint brush on her dresser, she makes a final attempt to shake off all the tumultuous thoughts in her mind. Tonight’s focus will be on the date only because she promised Jess and Kat that she would.

Heather hears Jess’s FaceTime tone, Push It by Salt-n-Pepper, and rushes to the dining room to grab her cell because she knows Jess will call her one hundred times until she picks up. Heather rolls her eyes before answering the call, preparing for whatever annoying dating wisdom she knows Jess plans to impart. The girl can’t help herself but be preachy, but Heather will take it in strides since she realizes that it comes from a good place.

After pushing the answer button, the screen on her phone lights up, though Jess’s face is not visible. What Heather does see is a pair of feet wearing shoes that look very familiar. In fact, they went missing a month ago and neither Jess nor Kat claimed responsibility. She makes a mental note to have a word with both of them about borrowing her stuff. She still hasn’t gotten back her red lip shaped earrings that Kat borrowed last Halloween. Kat wanted to dress up as a “Hershey’s Kiss” but really, she wore a skin tight chocolate colored dress and called herself sexual chocolate the entire night.  

“Umm Jess? You there?”

“Hey, baby,” she slurs while shaking the phone. “Don’t I look hot?”

“Well, dear,” Heather exhales, running one hand to smooth out her hair, “I wouldn’t know because all I see are your feet in my shoes that you previously claimed to have never borrowed.”

“Oops,” Jess mumbles. “Well I sssee you, so you should be able to see me. Why can’t you see mee? I don’t understand this contraption.” Heather rubs her temples as Jess’s words continue to merge together.

“Uh, babe. We’re on FaceTime so you need to turn your phone to selfie mode in order for me to see you,” Heather patiently explains. “Now tap the button that looks like a camera in the top right corner, and it will fix everything.” Jess tries and fails to suppress a giggle.

“Oh, that makesss sensse. I forgot how my phone works.” The picture suddenly flips around and shows the smiling, smeared lipstick faced Jess whose eyes are barely open. Oh boy.

“How drunk are you girl?” Heather asks. You’re slurring your words and it’s only …” she checks her watch, “seven.”

“Well Kat, that bitch, bet that I couldn’t drrrink two glassssses of wine, a shot of tequila, aaand a beer in a 30-minute time span. I won.” She nods briskly, but the phone wobbles in her hand causing Heather to experience the nod as well.

Heather raises an eyebrow. “Did you really win, Jess? Because I’m pretty sure your current slurring of speech and wobbliness is an example of losing. You do realize that most of the words you’ve spoken to me for the last few minutes made no sense.”

“Humph. You’re no fun,” Jess grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah so I’ve heard. Where is Kat by the way?”

Jess smirks. “Currently dancing on the bar next to some really hot sailors. Wanna see?”

Before Heather responds, Jess turns her phone in the other direction and points it at three smiling figures. Kat is sandwiched between two navy officers dirty dancing to Livin La Vida Loca on top of the bar. What in the actual …?

Jess flips the phone back around. “Can you believe it’s fleet week?” she shouts. “How the hell did we miss this announcement?”

“Calm your tits, Jess,” Heather sighs. “You’re acting like this is the second coming of the Beatles or something.”

“Who?” Jess’s eyes squint. “I was born in 1993 you know.” Is she serious?

Heather mumbles under her breath, “I swear this girl has the worst taste in music.”

“What ya say?”

“Forget it. What bar are you at? I can come by after my date since it won’t be long.”

“Nope, not telling.” Jess giggles. Before Heather gets the chance to question her further, the drunk girl hangs up Why in the hell did this girl call me anyway?

Heather’s phone pings a minute or so after Jess disconnected the call.

Jess: 4got to wish you lick with Stve. Wanted sumtin else, but drunk and can’t remember

Heather: Aw that was pretty heartfelt… for a drunk girl.

Jess: Yeah. I tend to be a sensitive bitch when i’m wsted. have fun, bcus you deserve it ☺

Heather: Thanks...CYA ;)

Checking the time on her phone, Heather lets out a sigh of relief because it’s only seven-twenty in the evening. Thank fuck she’s not as late as she thought, her nerves are most likely the culprits that caused her earlier clock confusion. Though she does needs to leave in ten, she has a few minutes to spare, so she decides to delve a little further into Jim’s files. To her surprise, she learns that Kylie is staying at a farm not far from the city. From what she can tell based on more pictures and other security logs, it appears as if she is never left alone, but Heather does see records of outings with her and another woman. Kylie looks a little happier in those pictures as opposed to the ones with the dark-haired hulking figure. In every photo with him, she seems withdrawn; her face appears pale and her expression grim. Heather believes he strongly resembles the man from her dreams and it unnerves her to know that he’s always that close to Kylie.

There are even more documents that make no sense, so Heather places a quick call to Jim to inquire, but it goes directly to voicemail. She decides to leave a short message in the hopes that he’ll call her back soon.

Immediately after ending the call with Jim, her text message notification pings and she checks it.

Unknown: Hi, this is Steve. Jess gave me your number.

Heather: Oh hey!

She quickly keys in Steve’s contact information.

Steve: I’ll be the guy with a red rose in my hand. I know, a bit cheesy.

Heather: Ha! Not cheesy at all! I can’t wait to meet you. See you in about 30 mins.

Steve: Great! I look forward to meeting you as well.

Heather places the phone in her purse and cleans up the mess of files on her desk. She laments about the upcoming night and decides to shove Kylie related stress and blind date nerves on the back burner for now. He seems like a nice guy, so maybe I’ll give him a chance.

* * *

Heather arrives at McRangel’s via taxi promptly at eight p.m., immediately walks up to the bar and takes a seat at the stool furthest from the entrance. She signals the bartender for a beer and is served moments later. Taking a slow sip of the amber ale, she closes her eyes and savors the taste in the hopes that it will relax her. Heather is a beer lover, but doesn’t indulge as much as she used to, so tonight she’s taking it all in. She’s nervous as hell, but at this very moment, with crowds surrounding her, she feels slightly at peace. She chuckles to herself. Perhaps I do need to go out more.

Losing track of time due to her deep thoughts, Heather checks her watch and realizes that Steve is fifteen minutes late. She doesn’t worry until fifteen turns into twenty and then twenty morphs into thirty. Where is this jerk?

She’s officially been stood up and Heather is pissed. She spent a decent portion of the evening getting ready for this date when she could have been at her house reviewing more of the new information. Frustrated, she abruptly stands, causing the stool to slide back a few inches. She pushes her way through the crowd and almost makes it to the front door when she hits a brick wall of muscle. She scans his body, slowly zeroing in on his lips for a moment and then locking eyes with him. At first, she thinks they are light brown like his hair, but upon closer inspection, she realizes his eyes are amber. The yellow specs in his irises draw her in even more, and it makes her feel like he can see right through her soul. He smiles and she’s so mesmerized that she doesn’t hear what he says next.

"Hi there,” he says, showing her a confident yet playful smirk.

She doesn’t respond because she’s so enthralled with this man … his smile … his eyes. It’s like he has her in some lust filled trance that she sees no escape from.

He stares at her for a beat, smirking and continues. “By your hasty exit, I assume you must be Heather.”  

As soon as the sexy man grabs her hand, very gently she notices, a sense of warmth and comfort come over her and after he places a single red rose in it, that warmth for some reason turns into a heat that she can’t explain. Still unable to formulate a coherent thought because she is caught in the spell of this man, she again says nothing.

He furrows his brow in concern. “Uh, are you okay?”

Heather shakes her head, pulling herself out the daze enough to say a few words that will hopefully make sense.

“I, um Steve …” she whispers. What am I saying?

“Of course.” To her annoyance or possibly glee, his lips curve to a knowing smile. “Who else would I be?”

Letting her nerves get the better of her, Heather abruptly extends her hand. “I’m Heather.” He grabs it, but instead of giving her a friendly shake, he pulls it to his mouth and places a soft kiss on her knuckles.

Heather blushes, not knowing what her next move should be, but Steve makes the decision easy.

“Want to get out of here Heather? It's kind of loud and I'd actually like to hear our conversation.”

She doesn’t answer immediately because her lady hormones have momentarily scrambled her brain. Sheesh, His eyes and that hard chest are just so … why does this man have to be this damn gorgeous, and why the hell is she acting like a bitch in heat?

Hold on, didn’t he ask me something? Yup. He definitely did. Why am I talking to myself?

Answer the damn question Heather because now you look crazy.

“Sure,” she squeaks out, because with a body like that, she’d go anywhere this hot man told her to. Seriously who wouldn’t and what’s the worst that could happen?