Chapter 16
Nightwear
Seraphina walked into 7 with low hopes. She didn’t even dress up as elaborately as she normally would. Instead of high heels that showed off her lengthy legs, she wore knee-high boots in brown leather. Instead of a spaghetti-strapped, low cut, tight dress, she wore a loose, long-sleeved one. Still impossibly short to wear in the day time; it was the most conservative dress she owned for nights out. Her hair flowed down her back, unadorned and, frankly, not brushed. Her waves coiled down her back instead flowing smoothly. Even her makeup wasn’t as exaggerated as it normally was.
She smiled and pulled out her ID for the man who was not Lance in the bouncer’s seat. He gave it a cursory glance then nodded before his gaze scanned up and down her form, his eyes giving a look of appreciation.
Well, at least someone thought she still looked good.
Walking into the main room, she watched dancing bodies writhe against other dancing bodies, reminding her of the second circle of Hell. Lust scented the air, along with alcohol, sweat, and desperation. Smoke circled around the dancing couples’ feet, pouring in spurts from the fog machines. The colored strobe lights reflected off faces, making them there one minute and gone the next in a kaleidoscope of colors. It made it impossible to discern one person from another.
She walked to the bar and sat, feeling despondent. Within minutes, men made their way over to her, offering a drink and small talk, but she lacked enthusiasm to keep them around for long.
He had an hour tops. If he was a no-show … well, she didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t want to go back to her one-night stands. She didn’t want to share herself with anyone else. She just wanted him. She had finally found someone who could give her what she had been looking for.
She turned toward the dance floor to watch the couples just as someone slipped up to her other side. She ignored them, holding her martini in one hand as she watched one couple who looked like they thought they were the only ones in the room, in the world. She wanted that. Had seen it often. She wished she could go over there and tell them they were fools. However, she held on to the hope that they weren’t.
Her back went taut when someone slipped their hand around her waist, mimicking her lover of the darkness. Then she felt the brush of fingers move her hair away from her cheek. Seraphina started to turn her head toward the unknown person when he halted her movement by pressing his lips against her ear and whispering, “You look nice tonight.”
It was that voice. The one she had longed to hear for weeks now. She melted back against him.
“Sweeter than the blue dress. And the black one with the ruffled hem. And the fiery red one. And the green one that sparkled.”
At that, her back went taut again. He had seen her. He had been here yet hadn’t approached her. She felt her face flame with the heat of anger and embarrassment. Ashamed that she had probably looked desperate, coming here night after night, waiting for him, looking for him, pining after him. Yet, he was doing what? What he had done to her with other women?
She started to turn around again to question him, but he again stopped her, gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and holding her head forward.
“Were you looking for me?”
Refusing to answer, she sat still, not even trying to turn her head again, her back ramrod straight.
He chuckled darkly. “Such pride.”
She bristled at that, her back growing tauter, straighter. However, she refused to respond.
“Tell me why you do it,” he started. “Why all those men?”
Now she did try to turn her head, to no avail. Just how long had he been watching her?
“Was there an agenda?”
She tried to nod, not missing his use of was.
“So, it wasn’t because you are just a dirty girl?”
He loosened his hold enough to let her shake her head.
She wondered what they looked like to everyone else. Her sitting straight in her chair, martini glass still in hand. Him leaning into her. Could they see he was gripping her hair? Did they think it was aggressive or like a lover?
“I’m glad I have some understanding now.”
He released his grip then pressed a kiss to the back of her head, smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo.
Seraphina waited for something more, for him to say something else, but nothing came. Confused, she spun the chair around. He was gone.
~~~~~
Nathan slipped into the kitchen, slapping hands with the cook he had befriended a few weeks ago. It was amazing what listening to someone’s woes and letting them borrow money could buy you.
He leaned against the counter and talked to him as the man prepared finger foods for the alcohol-laden patrons.
“Did you talk to her tonight?” Jeffery eventually asked, only knowing that Nathan had an infatuation with her.
Sticking to the kitchen, Jeffery didn’t concern himself with the regulars. There were waiters who did, and they told stories. Jeffery either didn’t bother himself with their gossip, or he acted ignorant. Either way, Nathan got the impression he didn’t know Seraphina, nor her reputation.
Nathan nodded. “Yeah, just small talk. I told her I would be up here again later this week, so we’ll see how it goes,” Nathan lied as he yawned. “It’s late. I don’t feel like hanging out here all night.”
“Why don’t you take her to a fancy dinner or some shit?” Jeffery grinned over at him.
Nathan gave him a small, tired grin back. “Maybe I will next time.” He pushed himself off the counter. “I’m out. We still meeting up for beers Sunday night?”
“Yeah, six o’clock, that wing place,” Jeffery called back.
Nathan nodded, though Jeffery had already turned back toward the fryer. “I’ll text you when I come back.”
“Roger that. Night, man.”
Nathan pushed open the back door. “Night.”
Walking toward the employee parking lot, he yawned again. Then he looked around to make sure she wasn’t around before turning toward his car.
When he got in and pulled out, he circled around to the customer parking lot. Her car was already gone.