office.” His smirk grows into a wicked knowing smile. Normally this would embarrass me, but with Jonathan, I am not ashamed and it makes me feel good. “Ok, I really gotta go now” and he kisses my forehead and gets up.
“Later Gator” I say. Geesh I am a geek sometimes.
He just chuckles at me and leaves our cubicle. I finish the glass I was drinking before he barged back in. I know he is not coming back this time. I gather my things, take a look around, and leave.
When I walk out of the champagne room I am assaulted with loud music and swirling lights. It is a busy night and there are bodies everywhere drinking and dancing. I’m not sure what to do next, but the champagne room manager comes over to me and leads me back to the cashier. “Lenox, my dear good score!” He smiles a cheesy yellow smokers toothed smile at me. “So Mr. Ellis,” he continues, “has taken good care of you.” I smile to myself and wonder if the creep watched Jonathan pleasure me.
“Here is your tip,” and he thrusts an envelope into my hand. “You are done for the night, he paid you off, and he wanted you to take this with you.” He then hands me a bottle of the Perrier-Jouet Rose Belle Epoque 2004 we had been drinking.
“Do I tip you?” I ask creepy champagne manager.
“No, Mr. Ellis did.” Good.
“Ok then, good night.” I head back to the locker room. It is empty, except for Samson who is reading Time magazine on the make-up chair.
“Oooohhhh girl you’re a hot mess, but I can tell you had a good time. Am I right?” Samson asked. I blush as if he can see right through me. “Yeah, I did.” I mumble. We look at each other and grin big grins. I want so badly to confide in Samson, in someone about Jonathan and what is going on. Is something going on? I don’t even know. Common sense takes over and I say nothing. I open my envelope and there are too many twenties to count, so I just hand Samson three of them.
“Thanks Doll. You look beat, are you going home?”
“Yes,” and I hold up my bottle of champagne to show him, “going home to have a drink.”
“Oh girl nice pull.” Samson replies. I walk over to my locker, just pull over my dress, and put on my jeans and t-shirt over everything else. I am too tired all of the sudden to do anything. I grab my new bag, and say goodnight and leave the locker room.
When I get to the front doors, the doorman holds it open for me, and says goodnight. I stood there for a moment decided about which direction to head for the best cab pick up.
“Miss Lenox.” A voice I recognize says and I turn to my right. Marcus.
“Hi” and I walk over to him.
“Mr. Ellis sent me to take you home.” Marcus opens the SUV door.
I smile at Jonathan’s thoughtfulness, and climb in. We arrive quickly at my place, Marcus opens my door, says goodnight and I get out.
Once inside, I decide to draw a hot bath. I feed the sweet kitty I am caring for, and press play on the answering machine. “You have no messages.” I know. I grab the bottle of champagne, and a coffee cup since I have no idea if my sublet-landlord has any kind of flute or wine glasses packed away somewhere. Taking off all my clothes, I climb into the warm lavender bubble bath and relax. I reach over to the toilet where I put the champagne, pop it, but not as gracefully as Jonathan had earlier, and pour some into my coffee cup.
The warm scented water and bubbles encircle me as I lean back and drink. I close my eyes and immediately think about Jonathan. I replay the night, every part, over and over in my head. I am so enthralled with this man. He is strong, sexy, bold, and at the same time tender and gentle with me. What is going on with us? I have no idea. Is this a kind of relationship, are we in a relationship? No, not after two nights. Could we be? Is that possible? Is this something that could actually turn into something? I have never been great at dating, or understanding men. The only thing I
“Later Gator” I say. Geesh I am a geek sometimes.
He just chuckles at me and leaves our cubicle. I finish the glass I was drinking before he barged back in. I know he is not coming back this time. I gather my things, take a look around, and leave.
When I walk out of the champagne room I am assaulted with loud music and swirling lights. It is a busy night and there are bodies everywhere drinking and dancing. I’m not sure what to do next, but the champagne room manager comes over to me and leads me back to the cashier. “Lenox, my dear good score!” He smiles a cheesy yellow smokers toothed smile at me. “So Mr. Ellis,” he continues, “has taken good care of you.” I smile to myself and wonder if the creep watched Jonathan pleasure me.
“Here is your tip,” and he thrusts an envelope into my hand. “You are done for the night, he paid you off, and he wanted you to take this with you.” He then hands me a bottle of the Perrier-Jouet Rose Belle Epoque 2004 we had been drinking.
“Do I tip you?” I ask creepy champagne manager.
“No, Mr. Ellis did.” Good.
“Ok then, good night.” I head back to the locker room. It is empty, except for Samson who is reading Time magazine on the make-up chair.
“Oooohhhh girl you’re a hot mess, but I can tell you had a good time. Am I right?” Samson asked. I blush as if he can see right through me. “Yeah, I did.” I mumble. We look at each other and grin big grins. I want so badly to confide in Samson, in someone about Jonathan and what is going on. Is something going on? I don’t even know. Common sense takes over and I say nothing. I open my envelope and there are too many twenties to count, so I just hand Samson three of them.
“Thanks Doll. You look beat, are you going home?”
“Yes,” and I hold up my bottle of champagne to show him, “going home to have a drink.”
“Oh girl nice pull.” Samson replies. I walk over to my locker, just pull over my dress, and put on my jeans and t-shirt over everything else. I am too tired all of the sudden to do anything. I grab my new bag, and say goodnight and leave the locker room.
When I get to the front doors, the doorman holds it open for me, and says goodnight. I stood there for a moment decided about which direction to head for the best cab pick up.
“Miss Lenox.” A voice I recognize says and I turn to my right. Marcus.
“Hi” and I walk over to him.
“Mr. Ellis sent me to take you home.” Marcus opens the SUV door.
I smile at Jonathan’s thoughtfulness, and climb in. We arrive quickly at my place, Marcus opens my door, says goodnight and I get out.
Once inside, I decide to draw a hot bath. I feed the sweet kitty I am caring for, and press play on the answering machine. “You have no messages.” I know. I grab the bottle of champagne, and a coffee cup since I have no idea if my sublet-landlord has any kind of flute or wine glasses packed away somewhere. Taking off all my clothes, I climb into the warm lavender bubble bath and relax. I reach over to the toilet where I put the champagne, pop it, but not as gracefully as Jonathan had earlier, and pour some into my coffee cup.
The warm scented water and bubbles encircle me as I lean back and drink. I close my eyes and immediately think about Jonathan. I replay the night, every part, over and over in my head. I am so enthralled with this man. He is strong, sexy, bold, and at the same time tender and gentle with me. What is going on with us? I have no idea. Is this a kind of relationship, are we in a relationship? No, not after two nights. Could we be? Is that possible? Is this something that could actually turn into something? I have never been great at dating, or understanding men. The only thing I
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