I glance at Dante.
It would be a lie to say that I wasn't aroused by this, just like everyone else in the room, but still my thoughts come back to him, who's just sitting here without saying a word.
I want him to invite me into the back, or better yet out, I want him to ask for my real name and my real phone number.
Suddenly I feel like such a fool, an idiot for thinking that he wants anything more than what we had before.
I have to put him out of my mind. I have to get away from this place. It’s no longer for me. Without saying a word, I get up and start to walk away.
"Hey, where are you going?"
It takes Dante two big steps to catch up to me in my high heels.
"I have to go," I mumble.
There's no one at the coat check, so I just reach over and grab my jacket and walk out the front door.
A gust of wind blasts my face and I struggle to zip my jacket.
“Wait!” he yells after me as I rush down the street.
23
Dante
I watch them dance and play a game onstage.
Everyone watches. Everyone huddles around and waits for the next dress, next shirt to come off.
But they don't hold my attention. My gaze returns to Jacqueline.
I can feel her. I want her to feel me watching her, me wanting her.
We sit in silence, and in those few moments, I forget about everything else in my life.
It's just her.
I want to hold her. I want to touch her. I want to be with her.
The faint scent of her perfume excites me, and just as I'm about to say something, she storms off.
I follow quickly behind.
She grabs her jacket and runs out the door.
"Wait up!” I yell after her. "Wait."
But she doesn't, and she runs fast. Something drops out of my pocket and I turn back when I realize that it’s my wallet. By the time I turn back and pick it up, she’s gone.
No, no, no, I say to myself.
I walk briskly past one street then another, praying that she didn't hop into a car, and then just before I decide to turn around to check the other side, I see her on the other side of a narrow alley turning the corner.
Picking up my feet, I run fast, catching up.
“Jacqueline!”
When she turns around, her face is flushed. There's a little light illuminating us and the dark brick behind her looks wet.
"What do you want?" she demands to know, crossing her arms in front. She takes a step away from me, and when I take one forward, she takes another one back, her shoulders colliding with the wall.
"Why did you leave?"
"Because I wanted to."
She slides along the wall and starts to walk away. I'm tempted to reach out and grab her hand, but I don’t want to scare her.
"Weren't you having fun?"
"Does it look like I'm having fun?" she snaps, her finger in my face, crinkling her nose. Two little lines form right in the middle of her forehead.
"What do you want?" she challenges me.
"I wanted to see you. That's why I came."
"Please.” She tilts her head, rolling her eyes.
"Are you mad at me?" I ask.
I take a step away. My dress shoes make little clinking noises as I shuffle them against the asphalt. Suddenly, it begins to rain and little drops start falling from the sky.
"No, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself."
"For what?"
She rubs her shoulders with her small, elegant hands, trying to warm up. Dressed in a short cocktail dress and slim heels, she shifts her weight from one foot to another to stay warm.
Her light brown hair was curlier and with a lot more body before, but after a jog and a little bit of moisture falling from the sky, the strands now fall flat around her face.
"What are we doing here?" Jacqueline asks. "Why did you follow me?"
Her nails are short, not acrylic, painted some sort of sparkly blue color. Though not exactly elegant, they show character and personality and I like that.
"I came here hoping I’d find you," I say.
Looking deep into her hazel eyes, I try desperately to convince her that I’m telling the truth.
“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes. "You came to Redemption, a sex club, to look for me? I don't think so."
She turns to walk away, and this time I do grab her arm.
"I'm telling you the fucking truth,” I hiss.
Her face falls just a little, and a small smile forms at the corner of her lips.
"After we met, I came back again,” I explain in a more reserved tone of voice. “I met two beautiful women who wanted to spend the night with me, and I couldn't do it. I kept thinking about you and how they weren't you."
"You don't even know me,” she says, raising one eyebrow and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I know. And I'd like to."
Jacqueline narrows her eyes, not exactly believing me, but not exactly not believing me either. "So what do you want to do now?" she asks.
"I want to ask you on a date."
24
Jacqueline
Dante is driving me home. He had followed me out of the club and he told me that he came back looking for me. I was so angry at him. I was so angry at myself for being an idiot for wanting him and for coming here and looking for him, and I had no idea that he felt the same way.
And now, I'm sitting in his Maserati, and he's driving me to my mother's house in Jersey City. I told him that I can take a cab or a ride share, but he insisted, and I wanted to spend more time with him anyway.
His slightly curly, dark hair frames his face as he drives a little bit too fast down the empty streets. I've never been in a car this expensive before, and if you thought that a Maserati or some other luxury vehicle looks good on the outside, it's hard to believe the features and the comfort that you experience inside.
The world ceases to exist, but not in any metaphorical sense. There's hardly any road noise at all, and you're just traveling in your own little sanctuary in total silence, unless of course you want to put on some music.
"How are you doing?" he asks, turning slightly to look at me.
"Good."
He smiles. His lips are luscious. His teeth are white and sparkle under the streetlights. He has a strong Roman nose and bright blue eyes that can be quite disarming and cold, but I don't feel anything but warmth right now.
I had already said yes to the date, but we haven't decided when or where.
"Tell me something true," Dante says.
"My real name is Jacqueline."
"My real name is Dante," he says, smiling.
I laugh and he laughs along with me. I put my hand on the hand rest and play with the buttons without actually pressing one all the way down. "What do you do for a living?" I ask again.
"Travel a lot. I work for a company that assesses risk and invests in high-risk endeavors."
"Isn't that dangerous?" I ask.
"Yeah. You can lose a lot of money, but you can also win big."
"So you didn't lie about that either?"