Rob stands still, lifting his eyebrows as if asking me what I want to do.
I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around his neck. “I don’t want to sit down yet.”
His arms wrap lightly around my back. “Whatever you want. It’s Lexi’s fun night out.”
I laugh and sway to the music. About half of our group is dancing and the other half is at the table talking. Sylvia is dancing with a local guy in the crew, the same one who was paying her attention last night. I look up into Rob’s amused face. “What’s so funny?”
“You. It’s like you’re a different person when I ply you with a bit of alcohol. Or maybe it’s that sexy black wig.” He lifts his fingers to caress a few strands of the wig. His gaze lands on my lips. “I like this Lexi.”
He’s right. I do feel like a different person. More confident. I felt this way the previous evening but even more so tonight. Is it the alcohol or the wig? Maybe it’s both. “I like this Lexi too.”
“Then we definitely need to let this Lexi out to play more.” His hands tighten at the small of my back, but it’s feels good…not threatening. We’re still loosely connected with only my linked hands on his neck and his at my back.
We finish the song and another fast song plays. Rob leans into my ear. “I need another beer. Do you want another drink?”
Safe, reliable Lexi would say no. But tonight I’m tired of being that way. If I’m ever going to get drunk, tonight is the night. “Sure.”
He keeps his arm around my back as he walks me back to the table, then heads to the bar.
Sylvia slides into the chair next to me, her eyes shining with happiness. “You look like you’re having fun.”
“I am.” I try to remember the last time I had fun and come up short.
“At the risk of sounding like your brother, I feel the need to say that you’re fast on your way to getting drunk. I have no problem with that, but I need you to tell me when you want me to cut you off. Okay? Tell me how far is too far.”
Her words are sobering.
“Lexi.” Her tone is direct, which startles me. “I’m not telling you to stop. I don’t want you to stop. I just want to know where that line is for you. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret what you did.”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself.” My eyes widen. “Oh, God. I already have.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I dragged Rob onto the dance floor and made him dance with me.”
“How the hell was that embarrassing? Trust me, that boy is loving every minute of it.” She grabs my hand. “Newsflash. Sometimes guys like it when we take charge. There’s nothing embarrassing about it. You’re a pretty girl, Lexi, and there’s nothing wrong with using your looks to attract a member of the opposite sex. And trust me, Rob is very interested.”
“But he told me he wasn’t looking to get laid tonight.”
“Well, I’m sure that was a hard thing for him to say, because that man wants you and he has a reputation for moving fast. But did he say he wasn’t looking to get laid tonight?”
I nod.
“I think tonight is the key word. He’s totally interested in you. I’ve known the guy for a while and I trust him. He may get around, but he’s not conniving. Tonight he seems more intent on getting you to let your hair down than anything.”
I reach up to my head. “You mean my wig.”
“Hair, wig. Whatever. He just wants the same thing I do. He wants you to enjoy yourself.” She drops her hold. “So, what’ll it be? What’s your limit?”
“If I do anything that will make me want to die of humiliation, you have to promise not only to cut me off, but to drag me out of the bar.”
“Done.”
“And don’t let me get so sloppy drunk I can’t walk.”
She grins. “Call me crazy, Lex, but I seriously doubt you’d ever let yourself get that drunk.”
I suspect she’s right.
Rob is at the bar, flirting with the female bartender who was here last night. She glances in my direction and I hurriedly look away, which is when I see the other bartender, the guy, at the table full of rowdy women next to us. He sets a pitcher of what looks like strawberry daiquiris on the table just as the band starts to play “I Like Big Butts.” The women release a collective drunken squeal and rush for the dance floor, leaving one of their group behind. She’s slightly overweight, but her clothes make her look even more so. She’s not wearing makeup and her thin hair needs a good trim and style. I can’t help thinking that Caroline would love to get her hands on the poor woman and give her a makeover to show her how pretty she is, even if she doesn’t see it herself.
The bartender sits in the empty chair next to her. She looks down at her lap and he leans into her ear and talks to her for several seconds before tilting his head toward the group of guys watching a basketball game in the corner. She shakes her head, but the bartender gives her a warm smile that lights up his face. He takes her hand and helps her up, then gives her a gentle push toward the dance floor.
He stands in place for several moments, watching her with a worried expression before heading for the guys, stopping next to the chair of a guy who’s sitting quietly by himself. He looks close to the same age as the woman—early thirties. When he glances up, the bartender squats next to him and starts talking intently, gesturing toward the dance floor. The guy grins and nods, his face red, and then the bartender slips behind the bar, quickly pouring a glass of wine before he returns to the shy man. The guy hands him a napkin and the bartender moves over to the women’s table to place the napkin and the wine glass in front of the woman’s seat.