AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She laughed again. “Yeah, for all of a split second.”
Grant smiled. He was starting to like the way this evening was going.
Chapter Three
Chelsea stood in the ladies’ room letting cold water from the faucet run over her wrists. She needed to cool down—in every sense. She was overheated from dancing with Grant, and from simply being around Grant. There was something incredibly sexy about the guy. He was tall and built with dark hair, long enough to be wavy. She giggled to herself at the desire to run her fingers through it. Oh dear. That might be another reason she was overheated. She may have had a little too much to drink. But the champagne was going down so easily.
She dried her hands and fished her phone out of her purse. She dialed Mary Ellen and waited.
“Hey, girlfriend. Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you ever since I left. It seemed like the right thing to do at the moment, but since then I’ve been tormenting myself, imagining he’s a serial killer and that you’re going to turn up dead tomorrow. Should I come back and rescue you? I will.”
Chelsea laughed. “No. You’re fine. He’s not a serial killer. He’s a really nice guy. I was just calling to let you know I’m okay. I knew you’d worry. Oh, and I talked to Rodney …”
“Who?”
“The Maître D’. He told me that Grant’s a friend of Antonio’s, so I know he’s okay.”
“Oh! Okay then. Good. Thanks for putting me out of my misery. So, go on, tell me, are you going to go home with him?”
Chelsea pursed her lips.
“You are! Aren’t you?”
“I’m a big girl. I can spend the night with him if I want.”
Mary Ellen laughed. “You sure can. But if you do, you have to tell me if he’s a big boy. He seems to me like he’d be a big boy.”
“You are so bad!” Chelsea couldn’t help laughing.
“I bet you I’m right.”
“I can’t take that bet because I already know you are.”
“What?! How?”
“We were dancing, slow dancing, and there was no hiding the fact that he was happy about it—or that he’s a big, big boy.”
“Oh my! You know, it’s not the size, it’s whether they know what to do with it that matters.”
“And you know this because …?”
“Because I read it in a magazine. Honestly. That’s all.”
Chelsea laughed. “Yeah, right. I’m not sure I believe that.”
“Whatever. The point is, what are you doing talking to me when you should be finding out the size of things?”
“I should. And on that note, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Okay, have fun, and be safe. Call me tomorrow, please?”
“I will. Thanks, Mary El.” She hung up and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked good. The dress was perfect. She loved to play with clothes, she saw her closet as a big dress-up box, and she had clothes to suit different characters. Tonight, she looked like one of those girls who went out every weekend looking for a guy to go home with. She looked the part; she was going to play the part. Grant was a nice guy—a decent guy, she could tell—but she wasn’t as interested in that right now as she was in the fact that he was an incredibly sexy guy who was totally hot for her. She was going to get back out there, drink some champagne, dance with him some more, and then let him take her home—and she was looking forward to it.
Grant was still sitting on the sofa where she’d left him. He smiled when he saw her and poured them more champagne. She plopped herself down beside him and took the glass he offered. He didn’t let go of it, and she looked up into his eyes. In a different lifetime, a different world, he would be the kind of guy she could fall for. She shook her head to clear it of such craziness.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
