Henderson's body is warm and firm. He's strong under that casual exterior. What's best about Henderson is he doesn't know who I am. He's not with me for the star power. He's not after me for something. Hell, he even paid for dinner like a true gentleman.
I think, if he likes me at all, it's for me, and not because I am famous.
Or used to be famous.
All these things make Henderson quite attractive in my book. I hope wherever we're going has some intimate, dark corners.
"Here we are."
I look up to see clean glass doors with the word "Oppa" above the opening in neon pink. It's a bustling pub.
"This place can be a lot of fun. It's pretty quintessential New York. Eclectic and funky and traditional all at the same time."
It's definitely not LA.
It's also not Gymboree or Mommy and Me Yoga.
The main room is surprisingly full for a Thursday night. Henderson steps in front of me to navigate the crowd, taking my hand in the process. It feels so warm compared to the popsicle at the end of my arm. "Let's try downstairs."
I nod, not attempting to yell over the noise. It's been a while since I was anywhere this crowded. Clad in Angie's coat, I don't feel as confident as I normally would if I were in my own clothes. How was I to guess that Angie would be setting me up on a blind date? I'm kicking myself again for not packing appropriately.
I'm also regretting my hair color. No one even recognizes me, except for a bum on the street.
Though, I guess that's the point, right?
But still, I don't feel like myself right now.
Not that I know who that even is anymore. Am I still a pop star? Am I a pre-K mom? I don't have a career right now, but I feel like I should. On the other hand, I'm not qualified to do anything other than be a performer. I barely got through high school. My skill set is definitely … lacking.
"Hey—you okay over there? You look stressed. Is it this place?" Henderson squeezes my hand gently as he leads me to a small square table on the far side of the basement bar. "Let me go get a drink. What do you want?"
I probably should stick to something light. "Maybe wine?" I crane my neck to try to see what they have on display. "How about a …"
Henderson's already making his way up to the bar.
Okay then. I glance around. This place is actually pretty cool. The walls are black with white doodles and sketches all over them. There's a drawing of a picture frame around the quote, "Trust me, you can dance. -Vodka."
It makes me smile because dancing has never been my forte until I've had a few shots. That was sort of problematic with the Sassy Cats because our concerts requiredtonsof dancing. Eventually I got it, but I hated every minute of it. Mostly because, like school and stable relationships, it doesn't come easily.
I look around some more. This is a karaoke bar. I haven't been to one of these since we were in Tokyo.
Man, that was a crazy night.
This will be totally different, being here with a complete stranger. I probably won't even get up to sing.
"One cab sav. Hope it's all right.” Henderson places the glass in front of me as he sits down. He's got another beer.
"This is a karaoke bar."
"Yeah. It's usually a bloody good time here. Amazing energy from the crowd."
"Do you sing?" Maybe he's a performer. He's involved in a theater, right?
He shrugs. "I'm fair. My mate is a performer, so he really kills it. I don't sing if he's gone up first. I'm used to being on the other side of the stage. Why? You sing?"
He really doesn't have a clue who I am. Yet, he's here, buying me dinner and drinks. Are we here because he actually wants to get to know me for me?
Nah, he probably just wants to hook up.
