Chapter 17: The VIP Room
Cassandra’s POV
He was holding my arm very firmly. His breath reeked of whiskey, hot on my cheek.
“Let go of me,” I demanded.
“Not until you pay me back for that drink,” he hissed. “And I only accept ONE form of payment.” He chuckled at his own joke. But I didn’t find any of this the least bit amusing.
“I mean it,” I warned. “Let go of me immediately. Or I’ll call the bouncer and get you kicked out of here.”
“Oh come on, honey. All I want is a little action.” He slurred his words. He was drunk. Much drunker than I’d initially realized. And before I knew it, he was grabbing the back of my head and trying to force his lips on mine.
“You creep!” I cried out. “Stop it!” I pushed his face away from me. And I was just about to punch him, when I was pulled backward into someone’s arms. It all happened so fast, I was a bit confused at first. But the drunk man was aggressively pushed right off his bar stool.
I turned around to see…
“Dillon?”
“Hey there, Cassandra. Thought you could use a little help,” he smiled.
“Thank you,” I said. He’d saved me from that awful, aggressive drunk man. Dillon waved his hand and two bouncers appeared.
‘Get this man out of here. He’s drunk out of his mind and he’s bothering the ladies.”
The bouncers nodded. The drunk man was still on the ground after his fall. The bouncers hooked his arms under theirs and pulled him away, his feet dragging behind him.
“You’re the last person I expected to see here tonight,” Dillon said. He fixed me with his eyes and smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not complaining.”
“I’m here with a friend. She’s….” I looked out at the dance floor. I found Stella. “She’s over there.” Stella was dancing seductively with the same guy. She didn’t look like she had any plans to leave the dance floor any time soon.
Dillon saw this too. “Tell you what,” he said, offering his arm. “I know a private room here. I can take you there. He can hang out. Relax. Enjoy a drink without being groped by sleazy, drunk men. How does that sound?”
I linked my arm in his. “Sounds fantastic,” I said.
Dillon weaved us through the crowd with ease. Then he led me into a big room towards the back of the bar. The room was behind a velvet rope. Two security men stood on either side of the rope. Dillon nodded at them and they opened the rope.
This caught me off guard.
As did the room…
It was done up lavishly, with leather couches and mirrored coffee tables. The light was low and it must have had some sort of soundproofing because once we went in, the thudding music almost completely disappeared.
“Is this a VIP room?” I asked, already knowing the answer. It had to be. The security guards, the velvet rope, the lavish decor….
There was a small bar towards the back. High end bottles of liquor were lined up with a bucket of ice beside it.
“What will you have?” Dillon asked.
1/3
“Vodka martini?” I asked.
He began making us drinks as I looked around.
“This is a really nice room,” I told him. “But Dillon, how did you get this room? You just seemed to waltz right in.”
Dillon hesitated for a moment. I saw him tense up.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You’re obviously a regular here. Hence the VIP room and open bar. I won’t judge,” I teased. Dillon relaxed and brought us our drinks.
“Yes, you got me. The gig’s up. I spent a lot of time here. My job as a lawyer is so stressful sometimes. I come here to unwind.”
That made perfect sense. I didn’t know much about Dillon’s job. Dillon and Cameron had been friend’s since childhood. And I used to hang out with them a lot. But after I got married, well, Dillon and I hadn’t kept in touch.
I knew he was a lawyer, but I didn’t know much more than that. Clearly, though, he was very successful. It made sense that he came here to blow off steam, or unwind. Just as it made sense that all the employees treated him well.
He probably dropped boatloads of money here.
We smiled at each other, but neither of us said anything. We just sort of sat in this bizarre, awkward silence. After a bit, I went to reach for my drink. But I guess it was actually Dillon’s drink because he did the same.
Our fingers touched. I quickly pulled my hand back.
“Sorry. You can have that drink,” Dillon said quickly.
“No no. I’m sorry. This one’s mine.”
I grabbed my drink and took a big gulp. Too big of a gulp. I started choking.
“Are you okay?” Dillon asked, concerned.
“Hm hmm,” I smiled, trying to suppress my coughing. He reached over and patted me lightly on the back.
It was awkward. This whole thing was awkward. The silence. The accidental hand touch. My choking. And now his hand was patting my back.
Why was this so awkward? It was Dillon! I’d known him almost my whole life.
My coughing subsided and once again, we sat in mutual silence. The music pounded faintly outside the room.
“Hope your friend is having a good time,” Dillon smiled.
“Me too,” I said.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
I could hear the seconds go by on the clock.
“How’s your drink?” Dillon asked.
“Good. Yummy,” I replied.
“Good,” he said.
Tick tick.
“So, you’re almost a free woman. I’m sure you have men lined up at your door, just waiting for the divorce to be final. Are you looking forward to dating again?” he asked.
2/3
I shook my head. “God, no,” I said, “I have no intentions of dating anyone right now. I just want to be alone for a bit Fones on my career.”
I chuckled but Dillon was silent. He fixed me with a strange look, then he looked away.
“I see,” he said, his voice low. Then he held up his glass. “I need another one. How about you?”
I watched him as he fixed our drinks. His demeanor had changed. I had the strange feeling that Dillon seemed a bat tahappy
“Here you go.” He handed me my drink.
No. Not a bit. I saw the sadness in his eyes.
Dillon was DEFINITELY unhappy.
But over what? I had absolutely no idea… (1)
3/3
