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I noticed somebody when I went that way. He was familiar looking. He was a perfect-looking guy—preppy and handsome with fitted clothes that were designer but understated. He had a lean but substantial form, and he looked like someone you'd see in a clothing commercial. I felt like I knew him, but I could not figure out how. I tried to think if I had seen him here before. He watched the stage, and I racked my brain as I stared at the side of his face, trying to remember how I knew him. I decided to head his way to solve the mystery.
He looked my way when he saw me coming, and it hit me right when his eyes met mine. His eyes were hazel. Mine were a similar color, so I remembered him right when he made eye contact with me.
"The stairwell," I said to him. "The guy from the dance school."
"Oh, are you…" he hesitated, looking at me. "Whoa, are you Holland?"
"Yes!" I said, feeling relieved that he remembered my name. "Beau?"
"Yes. I didn't recognize you with your hair like that."
"Like what? Oh, I probably wore it curly that day. It takes more effort to do that, so I usually just wear it like this. What are you doing here?"
"I'm seeing Sam Wells," he said dryly. He grinned after he said it. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Same," I said. "I love Sam. And I used to work here. Last weekend, I would have been watching the band for free—I mean, I still watch the band for free tonight, but I would have been getting paid to be here."
"Not as an audience member, though. It's probably more fun this way."
"No probably about it. It's way more fun out here on the dance floor," I said.
He sat on a barstool near the edge of the room and I stood next to him. He was taller than me, and I sided up next to him since the music was so loud.
"I love Sam," I continued. "I've been in the front this whole time."
The band was on a set break, but other music was being pumped out of the speakers. People were still dancing. "Who are you here with?" I asked. since he was sitting on a stool by himself with his back against a wall.
"Nobody. My friend was supposed to come, but she got into a car accident."
"Oh, my gosh."
"She's okay. She broke her collar bone."
"Whoa, I hate that. Was that today?"
"Yeah, earlier this morning. I didn't want to miss it tonight, though, and I didn't feel like hanging out with any of my other friends who like Sam."
I knew it was nearing the end of the break, and I had been about to make my way to the front. I looked that way and saw the drummer was about to come onto the stage.
"Hey, since you're here alone, do you think you can do me a gigantic favor?"
"Yes, what?"
"I work here, or I did. I'll probably come back when I get back from Arkansas. I hope not, but I might. But that's beside the point. What I'm saying is that… there's this guy. First of all, do you have a girlfriend or wife?"
"Me? No."
"Good. Because she probably wouldn't like you doing this favor."
"What is it?"
The emcee came onto the stage, and the two of us continued our conversation.
"I don't date," I clarified, first off. "I don't date at all. I got hurt a couple of years ago, and I'm just not interested in doing that again. Not now or ever. I have work to focus on. And a dog. I don't have time. I have enough going on, and I don't want a relationship. I'm not evencloseto wanting a relationship."
"Okay," Beau said innocently, raising his eyebrows in a way that assured me he didn't care.
I smiled at his facial expression. "It's not about you. There's a guy over there," I said. "He's a friend of a friend, so I see him all the time. And he comes in here when I'm working. We're in the same social circle. Anyway, he keeps trying to talk to me, and I told him I have a boyfriend. Now every time I see him, he checks in with me about it. He's nice and everything. On paper, maybe we'd be a match. But I'm just not interested, like I was saying."
