Draw Me In

DANCING WITH THE DEVIL

ZARA

It takes a few moments for my brain to register how close we are. It was his eyes. His eyes held me in place. Pinning me against him. I forced myself to blink and step back. I needed space between us. Putting myself outside of whatever vortex surrounded him.

“You’re late!” I clip.

Now that I have my wits about myself. I’m instantly annoyed. His face is gorgeous but his sense of time is terrible. A look flits across his face for just a second. A combination of surprise and annoyance.

Yep, I knew it. He’s not used to having any opposition. He gets what he wants. Well not from me. I straighten my spine and meet his eyes in a challenge. I would like to know his reasoning. Or does he even feel as if I deserve one. No doubt he probably believes his presence is enough. I internally roll my eyes.

“I apologize” he begins. “It was not my intention, Bèl”.

Has he always had that slight accent? Why did I not notice it before? And why do I like it? That’s the important question. He is a client, sort of. Still a client though, no lines can be crossed.

“I will forgive it this once” I say with no heat behind the words.

I just need to get myself back on the barstool and off my feet, before my legs threaten to give out on me. The intensity of his stare is threatening their stability. I turn quickly to get back to my seat, but he catches my elbow.

A heated zap. That’s the only way I can describe the sensation that went through me. Like being shocked, but it’s hot and pleasant. My head snaps to look at him. I can’t decipher his expression. I can’t tell if he felt the zap. He doesn’t seem fazed though. Interesting.

“I would prefer to sit at a table”. He must see a look of irritation because he’s quickly adding “If you don’t mind”.

I actually don’t mind. I nod and let him lead the way to our table. He pulls out my chair for me to sit. Hmmm, a gentleman. On the surface at least. As he rounds the table to get to his seat, I take the opportunity to really take in the space. I was nervous and beelined to the bar when I first arrived. Now that I’m looking around, it’s actually really nice in here. It’s more of an upscale bar. A bar for those who don’t want to seem like they participate in the same things most people who go to bars do. Truth is, most times they’re worse. There’s a small dance floor with a DJ off to the side. There are few people on it, but most are standing around it or seated at the bar. The furniture is black leather with matching tables. Everything is trimmed in gold. The back lighting is a dull yellow. The vibe is intimate but open. This isn’t a place I would frequent, but it’s nice. I actually don’t frequent any place. I prefer being home amongst myself and my plants.

“Would you like another drink?” He asks once he’s seated, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Um sure” Is all I can respond.

I’m trying to pull my thoughts together and focus. This is a meeting after all. Business first.

There is tug to the side of his mouth. Giving him a half smile. I must be amusing to him. Although I have yet to do anything. Nor am I trying to be a source of entertainment.

“Why the face?” He questions.

“Because I’m trying to read yours” I reply.

He takes a moment to consider my answer. No doubt calculating his response. After a few more moments he responds.

“I’m realizing that every time I’ve seen you so far, you look like you’re concentrating on something really hard… I just wonder what it is” He explains while leaning in over the table.

I can feel myself just at the edge of his personal vortex. I want to lean into it. But there’s an instinct in the back of my mind that says it wouldn’t be a good idea. Tempting though.

“Honestly I’m always trying to make sure I stay upright” I answer with a half chuckle. “In this case though, I’m realizing this is a place I would not come” I look around nervously, making sure to look anywhere but directly in his eyes. But I am instantly pulled back to them when he speaks again.

“Where would have you preferred to go? Maxine said this would be a great spot for you” his face is serious now, as if he’d been wronged in some way.

“Ah” I laugh while nodding my head. “Maxine would suggest this place because she knows I would’ve never come here” I smile to lessen his frown. For some reason I care if he frowns or not in this moment.

“She is always trying to get me out, and she usually fails” I continue.

He is watching me as if he is making note of what I’m saying and storing it for later. As if the information is important to him.

“That would explain a lot” he says, almost absentmindedly.

“What does it explain?” I ask.

He does the half smile again before replying

“For one why you look out of place and uncomfortable”

He is now surveying me from top to bottom, at least the parts that aren’t hidden under the table. It makes me feel uneasy, and heated at the same time. I clinch my thighs a little tighter at the feeling. My eyes must be playing tricks on me, because I could have sworn I seen his nostrils flare and his eyes flash for just a second. There and gone.

“I’m going to go get our drinks” he says quickly while moving away from the table.

He is gone before I could remind him that I hadn’t told him what I wanted.

…

We spend the next forty-five minutes going over exactly what it is that he will be needing from me, in lieu of Maxine being gone. Throughout the conversation, I’ve had about three more drinks. I had to do something to keep myself busy while he spoke. In hindsight, it may have worked against me. Now I just want to end the conversation and go out on the floor. This is why I drink at home. I’m by no means a lightweight when it comes to drinking, but I do like to enjoy myself once the buzz kicks in. I’ve begun to bounce and sway in my chair. I’ve started to tune him out.

In the blink of an eye, he is standing in front of me with his hand outstretched.

“Would you like to dance, Bèl?”

His voice sounds a little deeper, and his eyes seem to be on fire. I dismiss it. I’ve been drinking. But I do not dismiss his outstretched hand. I hesitate for a second, biting my lip. His eyes zero in on the motion. Making me feel heated. The last time we touched it zapped me, I wondered if it will do it again.

Ultimately, I take his hand and let him lead me onto the floor. It’s not quite a zap this time, but there is a thrum in my veins. The tempo of the music is not slow, but it’s not too fast either. Falling to place with the dancers already on the floor, our bodies touch. I know instantly that a line has been crossed.