Jill glanced at her watch and smiled; she was early and her business associates weren’t scheduled to arrive for another twenty minutes. The nightclub they had chosen to meet at was strictly A-list. If you weren’t on the guest list and didn’t have proper identification, you were out. Jill was director of procurement at a major investment firm and they had coordinated a meeting at this club, a location that they were considering purchasing.
Exiting her car she checked herself; she’d just had her hair freshly cut for her cousin’s New Year’s party less than a week ago, and her new skirt and blouse ensemble was professional-looking, but the skirt was above the knee, making it a suitable outfit for wearing at a nightclub. Her shoulder-length reddish-brown locks had been loosely rolled with hot-rollers less than thirty minutes ago, and she wore a smattering of red lip gloss with just a hint of mascara and eyeliner.
As she entered the club she announced herself and was allowed entry without hesitation. Showing her driver’s license to the maitre’d she asked where the ladies room was and he directed her to the far right corner of the posh establishment. She checked her coat and nearly tripped on something on the floor.
Bending down she saw that someone had dropped their driver’s license. Picking it up she angled it towards the light and read the owner’s name: Peter Flannigan. The nightclub was sparsely occupied; it less than half full. Jill figured she would find the owner quickly, since most of the guests were at the bar.
She walked over to the large octagonal-shaped bar and looked closely at the people surrounding it. Spotting a familiar face she approached. “Are you Peter Flannigan?” she asked over the soft din of music playing in the background. Peter was sitting on a high-backed bar stool and swivelled himself around so he could see her better.
“Yes, can I help you?” he said, rising from the chair. He was dressed in a charcoal-coloured suit, contrasting his short blond hair. His deep blue eyes glinted in the soft lighting that surrounded him.
Jill lifted the driver’s license. “I think this is yours. I found it over by the coat check.” She motioned with her head.
He took the card from her gently and looked at it. His brows furrowed but his cheeks blushed as he reached into his breast pocket, removing his wallet. “That’s me.” he commented sheepishly. “Thanks for bringing it over instead of giving it to one of these clowns.” he smiled.
“I figured it would just be easier to find you since the place isn’t busy.” Jill said.
Peter cocked his head to the side; his eyes narrowing slightly. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he lifted his index finger. “Aren’t you Linda Cogsworth’s cousin?”
She suddenly wanted to crawl under the bar and hide. “I am.” she answered reluctantly.
“Weren’t you at the New Year’s party?”
Her eyes widened. “Yeah. That. Party.”
He laughed softly, sensing her discomfort. “They are getting pretty lame, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. I left like an hour after arriving.”
“I stayed a bit longer. Larry’s a good guy; he’s thrown a lot of business my way.”
“You’re a lawyer?”
“Ten years.” he confessed. “So what brings you here? Are you meeting someone?”
“Business associates.” Jill explained. “The company I work for is thinking of investing in this place.”
“It could use some help from what I see.” Peter volunteered. “Can I buy you a drink while you wait? It’s the least I can do. You saved me a lot of trouble.”
“Sure.” Jill said, taking the seat Peter offered her. He sat next to her and summoned the bartender.
“What are you having?” Peter asked Jill.
“White wine.”
Peter ordered her the drink and she looked around the room. It was finally starting to fill. She looked at her watch, thinking her guests should be arriving in about ten minutes. Grateful for the wine, Jill took a sip to calm her nerves.
“So what kind of lawyer are you?”
“Estate.” Peter answered, sipping his beer. “I’m supposed to be meeting a client here, but I’m a little worried about his choice of venue. Can’t complain though, at the rate he’s paying me.”
Jill lifted her glass. “Cheers to that.”
They both sipped and Jill lowered her wine glass onto the black-lacquered bar. “How long have you known Larry?”
“Since law school. Long time. Linda was best friends with my sister in high school.”
“Sherry. I remember her. How’s she doing?”
“Married. Three kids. She teaches at a different district than Linda though. I think they lost touch after Sherry moved.”
Jill asked the unavoidable question. “What about you? You married? Got any kids?”
Peter took another sip and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Divorced. Two years. No kids. You?”
“Never married. I almost got married once.” She answered, avoiding eye contact.
Peter cleared his throat and tipped his chin upward. “What stopped you?” Then he checked himself. “Never mind. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it. I don’t like talking about my divorce.”
“Na, it’s okay,” she waved. “It’s not a big deal. He couldn’t stand me being so successful. He was a car salesman. Dead end job, you know? Classic case of insecurity. I made triple what he did and that was on his high commission months.”
“My ex-wife comes from money. Her father is the co-owner of an architectural firm. We never had any problems with money or lack thereof. I don’t have to pay any alimony, which is nice. All the other divorced guys I know are always bellyaching about that. I sort of close my ears and mouth when they go off on a rant.” Peter checked his watch. “Looks like I was right about my client.”
Jill smiled, looking downward. “Have you been ditched?”
“I’ll give him another fifteen minutes for good measure. He is coming from the other side of town.”
“The weather’s not too bad, but you never know.” Jill offered.
A large group of people suddenly arrived, effectively swarming the bar. Jill had to shift slightly to avoid having her drink spilled. “Maybe I was wrong about this place.” She said, stiffening up as she entered Peter’s personal space.
“Do you want to go get a table? Or did you tell your partners to meet you at the bar?” Peter asked, sensing her discomfort.
She shook her head. “I didn’t really think that far. They’re pretty obvious people.” She explained. “In a place like this they’ll stand out like a sore thumb. One of my colleagues weighs about four hundred pounds and the other two are a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. In jest I say they look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy and the Popsicle sticks.”
Smiling at her joke, Peter rose and gestured for Jill to lead the way to a table. “Shall we?”
“Thanks.”
Watching her smooth calves as she walked, Peter’s eyes met her shapely yet petite rear end and he chided himself. It sounded to him like this woman was all business and not at all interested in getting involved with anyone. If he was truthful with himself, he knew he wasn’t even interested in getting involved. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever be again. But Jill was a confident, independent, sexy woman who knew what she wanted. To him, that package was a huge turn-on.
“This looks like a good table.” Jill said, placing her wine glass down. Peter pulled the chair out for her and she tipped her head in thanks.
Removing his suit jacket, draping it over the back of the chair, Peter offered to get her a refill. “No thanks. I’ll wait until the others arrive.”
He sat down and took a sip from his beer. “You ever been here before?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t really get out much. Normally I arrange to have business meetings either at the office or at a conference center. Sometimes I choose a restaurant depending on the nature of the meeting. This locale is an exception but only because the company is thinking about buying it.”
“I’m usually holed up at the office or working from home.” Peter supplied. “This guy, Buster Wakefield, just calls me out of the blue the other day and asks to meet me here to discuss his uncle’s will. I had my reservations about him to start with but I’m in between cases right now so I figured I didn’t have anything to lose.”
She nodded and emptied her glass. “Well if anything we’ll have a funny story to tell.” Jill said, feeling nervous about her pending meeting. She checked her watch again, noticing that they should have arrived.
“You okay?” Peter asked.
“Just a little nervous. These guys are loud and obnoxious and I’m not in my element at a place like this.”
Peter touched her hand. “You’ll do fine. You seem to know what you’re doing. How long have you been a director?”
“About seven years. I was a protégé for the first two years I interned and then my supervisor died suddenly and I filled the position. I’m the only woman in the department and that makes some of the men itch.”
Peter was about to speak when Jill’s cell phone rang. She pulled it from her purse and checked the display. “Shit.” Her lips pursed. “They’ve rescheduled at the last minute.”
Rolling his eyes, feeling her frustration, Peter said. “When did they reschedule for?”
“Tomorrow morning at nine in the conference room at the office.” She said, irritated.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, at least you’ll be in your element.” Peter offered.
“And I can at least say I saw the place personally.”
“Call it research.” Peter added. “How about that refill?”
Sighing, Jill placed her phone back inside her purse. “Sure. Why not.”
Peter rose and walked to the bar. Jill ran a hand through her hair and drew in a deep breath. Turning, she watched Peter at the bar. Without his jacket on she could observe his tight behind. It was round and firm-looking; the kind that made her weak in the knees. His back appeared semi-muscular through the linen dress shirt. As he stood in the line-up at the bar he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He had a fine down-like layer of hair on his forearm and soft-looking hands. Jill licked her lips and tried to avert her glance elsewhere.
The dance floor had filled up as the volume of music rose slightly. Jill peered back towards Peter and noticed he had thick blond semi-curly hair. She suddenly wondered what it would be like to run her hands through it. It looked so soft and inviting. It was long enough to grab between her fingers yet short enough to be out of the way and tidy. She was definitely out of her element at the club. Jill was never one to have such lusty thoughts.
As he turned back toward their table, he was carrying another beer for himself and a glass of wine for Jill. He passed the glass to her and sat back down. “Well I guess I can write this guy off for tonight. That’s the last time I agree to meet outside the office.”
“You should have met him at his place.” Jill suggested, sipping her wine.
He shook his head. “Cardinal rule: never do that unless you’ve already signed a contract. Lots of weirdos out there unfortunately.”
“I’ll bet.”
Peter loosened his tie and slipped it over his head. “What do you do when you’re not at the office?”
“I go to the gym, hang out with family, and I write a little.” Jill answered honestly.
He undid the first two buttons of his shirt, “Oh yeah? What do you write?”
Jill laughed, embarrassed. “Funnily enough I write legal thrillers.” Her face turned beet red.
His eyes bulged. “Really?” he asked matter-of-factly. A quirky smile appeared on his face and he gave her a sheepish look, like he was guilty of something. “So I’m probably a gold mine of material for you then.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe.”
Leaning forward, his hands almost touched hers. “Go ahead. Ask me anything.” He dared.
Put on the spot, Jill blushed. “I don’t know.” She couldn’t hide the smile. His eyes danced as he looked at her. “Um….you said you’re an estate lawyer, right?”
He dipped his head once, maintaining eye contact. She liked the fact that he was enjoying looking at her and all the attention he’d proffered to himself. “You ever read Grisham?” he asked.
She gave him a how-stupid-are-you look, “Duh. He’s my favourite.”
Peter laughed and looked away for a second, and then looked at her again. “Mine too. Now come on, ask me something.”
One of Jill’s favourite songs was suddenly being played. It was a slow eighties ballad that reminded her of high school. Her face dropped; she hadn’t heard the song in ages. “Want to dance?” she asked, feeling courageous, and glad she came up with a question.
“That wasn’t what I was looking for, but alright.” Peter answered, frowning with satisfaction.
He watched her legs as she led them to the dance floor. Drawing in a deep breath, Peter took her hand in his and placed it gently on his chest. His other hand rested on the small of her back as she nervously stepped closer to him. “It’s been a long time since I did this.” Jill said.
“You’re not alone there.” Peter said, resting his chin against her forehead.
The warmth of her body radiated through his. He was suddenly glad he removed his suit jacket and tie. Her breasts were soft yet firm and pressed slightly on his chest. Jill’s hair smelled like coconuts and felt soft and supple. He could feel her body rigid with nerves. “You can relax.” he comforted softly. “I’m just Larry’s friend. I don’t bite.” he gave her a reassuring rub on the back.
“Sorry,” she said. “If it weren’t for the wine I probably would never have asked you to dance.”
He laughed softly and rubbed her back again, feeling her arms loosen on his chest and around his neck. The hair on the back of his neck was so soft Jill had to stop herself from running her hands through it. It was nice of him to try and comfort her, she thought, although knowing he could tell she was nervous was unnerving. He smelled subtly of aftershave, which she liked, there was nothing that turned her off more than a guy bathed in unnatural scent. His body was firm; Jill guessed he worked out regularly. “Hey, I forgot to ask what you do outside of the office.”
Peter pulled back so he could see her face. “Not much. I go to the gym, too, and I have a motorcycle. Sometimes I go to car races and hockey games.”
She smiled and his eyes went briefly to her lips. “You have a nice smile.”
“So do you.” she said, letting her eyes linger to his lips.
Breaking the silence, he rolled his eyes, “Cheesy line, I know.”
She lowered her forehead onto his chest and snorted, embarrassed. It had been so long since a guy flirted with her she wasn’t sure what to do. Was he flirting?
“Are you flirting with me?”
He lifted a brow playfully. “Are you flirting with me?”
She laughed softly. “I don’t think I even know how to flirt.”
“That makes two of us.” he said, pulling her closer as the song finished. Another slow ballad followed. “Well if nothing else we’re catching up on our dance experience tonight, huh.”
She stretched her arms higher on his shoulders, loosening further. “And I haven’t had a glass of wine in ages.”
“Well then it wasn’t a loss.” Peter said matter-of-factly. Her body softened against his; he could feel every inch of her and became aware that she could probably feel every inch of him. Jill could probably tell by now that he hadn’t been with a woman in a long time.
Lifting her head from his shoulder, she glanced at him. “There’s something else I haven’t done in ages.”
“What’s that?” He asked, unable to keep his eyes from her lips.
Leaning in, she gently touched his lips with hers. When she pulled back, she allowed herself a stroke through his hair with her hand. “Just as I imagined.” She said, watching his eyes close from her touch. Her heart pounded inside her chest. She leaned in and kissed him again. A vibration came from her throat and he deepened the kiss. His head angled to her left as his mouth opened, enveloping her mouth.
As their tongues met, Jill’s legs went to jelly. Her hands plunged in his hair, mussing it up as his hands pulled her tight against him, so she could feel the hardness below his belt. The pull in her belly was overwhelming. It took everything in her to not rip his clothes off and straddle him on the dance floor. For the rest of the song they kissed deeply, as if they were the only two that existed.
When the song ended, they were both breathless. The music changed to a fast song and they suddenly felt exposed. “Can we just stand by the wall for a few minutes?” Peter asked, smirking because from the look on her face, she figured out why.
“Sure.” she said, taking his hand and leading them to the wall behind the dance floor. The railing that lined the floor was where they chose to stand. Jill stood facing the floor while Peter came from behind her and slowly pushed her hair away from her neck. His lips seductively kissed her from shoulder to ear. “I don’t think that is going to help you sit back down again.” she giggled.
“I don’t care.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her as he sucked her earlobe.
Her panties were damp and her heart was beating so fast she almost couldn’t catch her breath. She checked to see if anyone was watching, but luckily everyone was on the dance floor. Reaching back she felt the bulge against his zipper. “In that case.” she said, feeling courageous and drunk on lust. Jill began stroking his hardness from behind.
Peter moaned softly in her ear. He leaned his forehead into the back of her neck, as if in surrender. “God have mercy.” he breathed. “You have to stop that or I’m going to have to go to the bathroom for a while.”
She smiled, pulled away and turned to face him. Raising both hands she swept them through his hair as he leaned into her and enveloped her body in his arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this attracted to anyone before.” he said sincerely.
Jill turned her head to the side. “Me neither.”