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“Oh, for sure. Anyone in your position would be cautious about starting to date again after an abusive relationship. It’s all about the baby steps. You have to start somewhere.”
“I agree with Jessica. You’ve started with coffee, and now you’re just taking that next step. Just go with it and see how it goes.” James eats some more popcorn while Jessica takes a drink of her wine.
I finish up my beer and start to head inside for the night. I pause before I close the sliding glass door. “Thanks, man.”
James tips his head. “Anytime.”
As I get to the top of the stairs, I run into Sky walking out of her bedroom. “Have a good night, Bug.”
“Goodnight.” She tries not to look at me and closes the bathroom door.
Shaking my head, I wonder what’s up with her. She’s been acting weird today, aside from the conversation at dinner. Dinner was as usual. I lay down for bed and pull out my phone. I highlight Julie’s name under my contacts, and her smiling picture pops up. Honestly, she’s pretty cute, and I do need to get back out there. A masked club doesn’t sound too bad. I haven’t heard too much about it. Most people say it’s better to experience it rather than hear about it. What’s the worst that could happen?
Chapter Nine
SKY
Uncle Davey is getting ready for his date. He seems excited and nervous, but he has no reason to be. I know she’s not for him — they won’t last. All I see right now is red, and I don’t quite understand why. It’s just a date. It’s not like he’s going to marry her. His words from last night keep ringing in my ears.
“…Julie seems nice, so I’ll try. What’s the worst that’s gonna happen? We might click even more and start dating.”
Nope. Not gonna happen. I shake my head and close my book. He comes down the stairs as I stand up from the couch. Holy shit.
“Damn, Uncle Davey. You clean up nice!”
There goes that thunderous laugh that warms my heart. “Thank you, Bug.” He winks, then adds, “Don’t wait up!”
I roll my eyes and head upstairs to get ready for the night. Little does he know, I wouldn’t be waiting up. I’d be following him to make sure she isn’t stealing him. I slip into my dress, which is as red as I feel. Is it anger or jealousy? I can’t quite pinpoint what I’m feeling, but I just know I have to follow him. I put the finishing touches on my makeup and grabbed my mask. I had stopped at the costume store on my way home from school today and picked out the dress and mask.
This red scoop-necked dress clings to my curves and billows out toward the bottom. It stops just an inch above my knees. I pair it with my favorite silver wedge pumps. Clutching the mask against my side, I walk downstairs and head for the club.
* * *
Well, now. What kind of club is this? I’m intrigued as I step into the club. Getting in was easier than I thought; I paid the cover fee, flashing my fake ID, and the bouncer nods, barely paying attention. Most people avoid causing a lot of trouble here in Crimson — as long as the trouble stays outside of the clubs. There’s music jamming but not thumping loud enough not to be able to carry on a conversation without yelling. The women are in varying types of dresses, and the men are all in suits. Everyone’s wearing a mask that conceals the identity of who’s in the room. This is the kind of place to take a date to if you’re looking for a slower, intimate type of place but still want the feel of a club.
I walk up to the bar and order a glass of water. My ID would get me in, but it wouldn’t buy me a drink. After I take a sip, I slowly look around the room. To my left, there are tables and chairs where couples are mingling. Behind the tables, there’s a decadent dessert bar filled with chocolate cake and different types of pastries and cheesecakes. Across from the tables is a dance floor, illuminated by soft lights on the stage. Couples are either slow dancing to the beat of their own music or dancing to the DJ’s beats. Off to my right, there’s a stairway surrounded by the red ropes seen at movie theaters. Another bouncer stands in front of the stairway, next to a sign: Over 21 Allowed. Thousands of twinkle lights hang from everywhere, giving off a soft glow to the room.
The dessert bar’s calling out my name. Starting to head over there, I stop mid-walk. I spot Uncle Davey to my right on the dance floor. It’s easy to pick him out of the crowd; I knew what he was wearing before he left the house. He was swaying with his date, who was dressed in a long black dress. She whispered something in his ear, and he smiled, whispering something back to her. His hand slid down to the small of her back, causing me to look away. Julie isn’t hard on the eyes, but I can’t bear to see him touching her in such an intimate way. I grab a plate of cheesecake drizzled with caramel and perch down at the nearest table.
My fork dips into the cheesecake and makes its way into my mouth, making me moan. By the time I finish the dessert, I have lost track of Uncle Davey and Julie. I stand up from the table and turn around, smacking my arm right into Julie’s hand, spilling her drink down the front of her dress.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! Here, let me help.” I hold out an extra napkin to Julie.
Julie grabs the napkin and speaks quietly, “It’s okay. Please excuse me.” She rushes in the direction of the bathroom.
I keep my head down and try to spin in the other direction, but Uncle Davey grabs my arm and rips off my mask.
“Bug? What are you doing here?”
I freeze. Shit, he isn’t supposed to see me. “Uncle Davey, is that you? I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.” A small laugh escapes me.
His grip on my arm tightens, and his face scrunches up. “You’re too smart for this bullshit. Let’s go. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“But Uncle Da—” I wince and try to pull my arm away. “Ow, you’re hurting me.” He turns an inch and glares at me. I quicken my pace to match his, and we head out of the club. “Let me go.” I jerk my arm, and he lets go.
We reach his car, and he spins around, shooting daggers at me with his eyes. “Get in. I’m taking you home.” He opens the passenger door for me like he always does. I climb in and buckle up.
Sitting down in the car, my dress rides up a little higher. I stretch out my left leg, showing my thigh more, and shift in my seat. This red dress already makes me feel lucky. Uncle Davey doesn’t say one word on the ride home, but I did catch him glancing over at me quite a few times. Does he like what he sees? I uncross my arms and fold my hands in my lap, sitting up straighter. He clears his throat. I don’t have to look over to know he doesn’t like me being on display.
