Broken Dreams(87)

He turned the key, and looked over at me. “You know, you’re taking your life into your hands riding with me,” Henry said with an impish grin. I laughed, then buckled my seat belt. Maybe I should have started praying. I watched him drive, and I could see that he was nervous. He was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, and bouncing his free leg at the stoplights. He repeatedly shoved his hands through his hair. I looked at the bruising and was curious, but it was none of my business so I didn’t ask.

We didn’t talk about much, just the usual nervous first date talk: the weather, the traffic, the night before with my car and the coffee. I thanked him again for his kindness.

We pulled up to this swanky bar, and the valet seemed to recognize him. Henry handed him the keys to his truck and slipped the valet some cash. They nodded at each other. When we walked in, the host also recognized Henry.

“Ahhh, Mr. Daniels.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Miss.” Then he took my hand and kissed it. I was a little taken aback by his gesture because this kind of place was so not me. I needed to be in a bar with peanut shells on the floor, where they served only non-microbrew domestic beers, and there was a bouncer named Bubba milling around at the front door.

“How’s it going, Philip?” Apparently, it was a bar that Henry frequented. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“Very well, sir. Thank you for asking. Your usual table, sir?” Henry looked at me. I looked up at him, thinking I was just going to be the next notch on his bedpost. Just great. I felt like such a fucking idiot! I knew he couldn’t be interested in me as a whole…just a small portion of me. I looked at the décor, trying to distract myself. I felt a little humiliated that I fell for his antics.

“You know what? Let’s change it up a bit.” I was wondering if that was a code of some sort, meaning don’t take me where I sit with my usual Barbie whores who give me blow jobs in the back room.

“Alright, sir, miss, follow me. I have the perfect spot available.” Henry took my hand and I jumped, as the iciness of it took me by surprise once again. We walked until we came to a small red couch. “Is this to your liking, sir?” Henry looked at me, and I shrugged. I didn’t care. I was going to try to find an out pretty soon. At the very least, I was going to get one drink out of the epic disaster.

I felt like such a fucking moron. There I was swooning over this oversexed, obviously far too up on the social ladder douchebag, only to be looked at as his next notch.

“Yes. Thank you, Philip.” Henry casually pulled his other hand out of his pocket and slipped Philip a tip. I wondered how much the tip was. In such a swanky place, I suspected it was at least a hundred.

I looked around a little more, as he chatted it up with Philip. The lighting was dimmed with a purpose. The floors were dark, along with the walls, but the couches were blood red leather. The tables were all glass, and there were fresh white orchids at each table. The music was low, but sexy. It was not the usual “get up and dance” kind of bar. As I looked around at all the fancied out couples, I wondered if it was some sort of swingers club. I was not doing that!

“Thank you, sir. Miss.” Philip nodded at me. “I will notify Mr. Williams that you are here.” Then Philip walked away. Henry waited to sit until I sat down. Such a gentleman. I could hardly contain my eye roll.

“Bring all your dates here?” I said in my full blown “I can’t believe I fell for your tricks” attitude.

“No, not really. I have a couple times. This is usually a third or fourth date kind of place for me.” He smiled. Good god, his smile was stunning.

“So should I feel special I made it here on the first date?” I hoped, with every fiber of my being, that he was being truthful.

“I do think you should feel that way.”

A middle-aged man with a small potbelly in a fancy suit approached us. “Mr. Daniels, pleasure seeing you here this evening. It’s been a while.” He chuckled. Henry smirked. Great. He was probably there the previous evening with some floozy whore making out, and then fucking her unwalkable in the back room. We stood up to greet Mr. Fancy Pants.

“What’s going on, Cam?” They did the quick man fist, grip shoulder, hug thing.

“On a date?” Henry nodded. Mr. Cam Fancy Pants glanced over at me and gave me the old up and down. “Lucky man to walk in here with such a fox.” I blushed and looked down. He held out his hand to me. “Cam Williams.” Henry looked at me and smiled.

“Elaina Cooper.” I took his hand, and he gently squeezed mine. I tried to be confident and powerful.