1 Night (A Time for Love Series Prequel)

Chapter 2

I stopped a few feet away from the table in the corner Ginger was leading me to, pausing to take in the man slumped down in the chair. His eyes were staring off toward the door, not paying the least bit of attention to the half-naked dancers or scantily clad waitresses who surrounded him.

He was cute, with dark messy hair and a five o'clock shadow, but even in the dark room I could tell he was young. Not jailbait young, but young enough to still have an air of recklessness about him. Yet, even though he was a young, very good-looking man in the middle of a strip club, he looked sad.

"He better not be a mean drunk," I bit out to Ginger as I followed her the last few steps.

"Not at all," she promised, then bent over to place her hand on the dark-eyed stranger's shoulder.

His head whipped around and he looked confused for a moment, then must have recognized Ginger, because he smiled crookedly and said, "Hey, there you are ... Did you find my friends?"

His words came out slowly, and were slightly slurred.

"No, honey, I'm sorry, but we're going to get you back to your hotel, and your friends will meet you there, okay?" Ginger asked, her voice full of confidence, even though I was starting to regret our deal now that I saw him.

"Simone is going to help you out, okay? You can trust her to get you back safely," Ginger was saying as she put some pressure on his arm to urge him to his feet.

"You're a big one," I managed as the man got to his feet.

I was already pretty tall at five seven, but when you added my heels, I usually towered over most people. I liked it that way. It made me feel powerful. In my business, it was better to be powerful, than easily taken advantage of.

This man still towered over me.

"Um, Ginger..." I began, ready to tell her to forget covering me, forget Mexico, forget all of it. The last thing I needed was to be alone somewhere with a huge drunk guy who decides to get frisky. It wasn't worth the risk.

"You have nothing to worry about, Simone, I promise," Ginger said, guessing what I was about to say. "Cal here is a total sweetheart, and he's married to the love of his life."

"Shelly," Cal supplied with a nod, his smile going goofy. "We're about to have our six-year anniversary."

I let his words sink in as I took in his wedding band, then the dopey look on his face, and I pictured being on a white sandy beach on my favorite bikini.

"All right, loverboy, let's get you to bed," I said, coming to a decision.

I stepped forward and took his arm from Ginger, then started dragging him toward the door.

"See you when I got back," I called over my shoulder to Ginger, who was watching me like a proud momma, even though I was at least five years older than her. I rolled my eyes at her, and even though I didn't hear her twinkle-like laughter, I knew it followed us out of the club.

Once we were out in the stale night, I propped Cal up against the wall and looked up and down the street. I lived close by, so I walked to work, rather than fight traffic every day. Not that I would put a stranger in my car even if I did have it with me; I wasn't stupid.

"Cabs always come down here, so we'll be able to catch a ride in a minute," I told Cal as I watched him struggle to remain upright. "What do you remember about your hotel?"

Cal lifted his head and squinted his eyes.

"Um ... I saw the Eiffel Tower, and some big fountains, and then TJ made us stop and look at some fake statue of someone he liked from a movie ... We ate at a buffet and played some poker."

"Okay," I said, thinking that could still be any number of places. "Do you remember anything specific about your room? The view maybe?"

"Well, I know we saw the pirate show, and when we walked into the hotel we crossed over water ... on a bridge," he replied, biting his lower lip as he concentrated.

If I wasn't so frustrated at the whole situation, I would have laughed. He was cute in a disarming kind of way. A real guy next door kind, the exact opposite of the guys I usually went for. I was always more the bad boy, player type.

Which has obviously been working out so well for me, I thought dryly, then started looking at Cal in a different light. He was tall, sexy tall, and the scruffy look was totally working for him.

Then what he said clicked and I guessed, "You're at The Venetian."

Rather than agreeing like I'd hoped, Cal shrugged and started to slide down the wall.

"Easy there, killer," I said as I reached out to steady him. "Don't worry, I won't just throw you in a cab and hope I'm right. I'll see you safely to your room, just like I promised Ginger."

His answering grin had my blood warming. Now that my mind was seeing him differently, my body was happy to get on board. It had been months since my weekend with Micah, and I was ready to bring my vagina out of retirement.

This guy might be just the one to do it, a sort of pre-vacation fling, fling.