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“Yes—I mean, no. Not really. I just... didn’t expect it to be you.”
“I can’t say I expected you either.” And yet, I find I’m intensely pleased to have run into her, completely by coincidence, after all this time. I’ll have to remember to thank her friend for forcing me into whatever allthatwas about.
“Well, fancy meeting you at a place like this,” she gushes with a breathy laugh, her eyes taking in the long bar littered with delicate martini glasses of all colors and confections.
“You mean, not a strip or sex club?” I tease, cocking an eyebrow at her.
The beautiful rose color of her blush and the way her eyes drop tell me she’s just as shy and modest as I remember. And once more, I find my curiosity piqued.Where has she been all this time?It’s not like I didn’t move heaven and earth to try and find her.
“Actually, I meant it more as I wouldn’t have pegged you for a martini kind of guy.” The apologetic smile she offers up makes my stomach tighten. No woman should be this beautiful without even trying.
Raising my tumbler of vodka on the rocks, I swirl the glass and take a sip. “Well, I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Her melodic laughter awakens something in my chest that I have long thought dead. A flutter of excitement at knowing a woman might find my company enjoyable—without me offering them compensation first. And that slight Southern twang that accompanies her sass has me hooked as easily as it did during our private dance.
“In truth, I come here more for the convenience of the location than their particular brand of specialized drinks,” I add, leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially near her ear.
I just catch the quick intake of breath that rushes past her lips at my proximity.
“You live around here, then?” she breathes before taking a generous sip of her dirty martini. A sure sign that I’m making her nervous.
Good. I like the thought of making her tremble.
“About a block south.”
“Oh, so you’re livin’ in high cotton,” she states and purses her lips playfully.
Her facial expression would indicate that’s something to be impressed by, but I have no clue what the words mean.
“Sorry?” I say, hoping she’ll elaborate.
“Oh, no need to apologize tome.” Then she gives a wink that tells me she’s giving me a hard time.
Baffled, I pause, taken aback by the fact that this woman has destabilized me so easily. I’m not used to anyone leaving me short on comebacks.
“You live in The Pacific, then, I assume,” she says as a way of explanation, pointing down the street toward my penthouse. “And that means you’re doing more than just fine. Though I do recall that being true when we first met.”
“You seem to be doing well for yourself too,” I observe, giving her an obvious once-over.
Angel crosses her legs nervously and smooths her dress over her knees, but I can’t quite read the expression on her face.Embarrassment? Gratitude? Guilt?I wonder if she feels I’m trying to take credit for her success. But I highly doubt she’s been coasting on my gift to her all this time. She carries herself like someone who has worked hard to make something of herself.
“Thank you” is all she says as her lips twitch into a soft smile.
She really does look incredible, and I wonder if she might not be up for another night together. Because I know I would be. But I won’t make the same mistake I did before—I’ll be sure to ask for more time.
Still, she didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would accept my offer back then, and now she looks like she’s made it in the world. I doubt she needs the money any longer.
“Are you still dancing?” I ask casually.
Angel laughs. “No, I quit four years ago.”
“I thought as much, seeing as you vanished after our night together.”
“And how would you know that?” The twinkle in her eye suggests that she’s about to catch me in a lie, but what I have to tell her is the God’s honest truth.
“Because I went back to Lady Venus and asked for you. But they said you’d quit, and they wouldn’t give me your personal address. So, try as I might, I couldn’t track you down. Turns out there are more women named Angel in San Francisco than one man can meet in a month. I’m remembering your name correctly, aren’t I? Angel?” Not that I could forget, but I don’t need to give her the wrong impression. I already came dangerously close to sounding like a stalker.
Delicate, feminine hands press against her cheeks as she blushes profusely in apparent embarrassment. “Actually, that was just my stage name. I’m Heidi.”
