Charming doesn’t begin to describe this place.
Our flight down a steep staircase brought us to an intimate club. No more than two-dozen people could fit in here at any time, but tonight it’s almost empty.
There’s a bartender in a flowered patterned vest and matching bowtie behind a sleek glass bar. Her red hair is tugged up into a tight ponytail. Her eye makeup is dramatic.
On a stage that lines the wall opposite the bar are four men. All are dressed alike in black vests and bowties. White dress shirts and black pants complete their muted look.
The quartet is playing a soft jazz tune. The dance floor directly in front of them is vacant. Every small circular wooden table is empty except for one. There’s a man with salt and pepper hair sitting next to it in a chair. An amber colored liquid fills half a glass tumbler on the table in front of him.
I glance back to see if the man who ope
ned the green door is behind us, but he’s not. He must not have followed us down the stairs after he locked the door once we entered.
“Billy,” Dylan calls out. “I didn’t think you’d hang around.”
The man at the table turns and smiles. It’s so wide and genuine that it’s disarming. Crow’s feet pinch at the corners of his brown eyes.
“Dylan Colt,” he says, rising to his feet. “You made it.”
“Was there any doubt I would?” Dylan reaches for Billy’s hand as he approaches us.
Billy takes it for a quick shake before his palm is pointed in my direction. “You must be Eden. You’re more beautiful than Dylan described.”
I shake his hand, smiling at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You’re a dancer.” His tone is soft. “I hope you find our dance floor acceptable.”
I glance past him to the parquet wood floor. Every inch of this club is exquisite. It’s obvious from the detailed woodwork on the archways that it was built more than a lifetime ago.
“I think it will be perfect,” I say sincerely. “I can’t wait to take a spin.”
Billy’s gaze centers on me. “I won’t keep you. Drink as much as you like. Dance until your legs give out. Everything is on the house.”
Dylan raises his hand in protest. “No, Billy. I’ll cover the cost of your staff. You closed down the place tonight just for us. I know that’s costing you a pretty penny.”
He brushes Dylan’s comments off with a shake of his head. “You saved my marriage. That’s priceless. Consider this my thank you gift to you.”
Just as I look up at Dylan, he looks down at me. “I’m not always the bad guy. Sometimes a marriage is worth saving.”
He read my mind or my expression. He knew that I would wonder what Billy was talking about.
“Mine was worth saving.” Billy wiggles his ring finger at me. The lights above us catch the diamonds in the thick gold band that circles his finger. “Our twenty-eighth anniversary is next month.”
“Congratulations,” I offer with a smile. “That’s amazing.”
“It’s a gift.” Billy glances over his shoulder at the stage. “I’m cutting into your time together. I’m going home to the Mrs. You two enjoy your night.”
“We will,” Dylan says quickly. “Thanks again, Billy.”
“No thanks are necessary. It’s the least I can do.” He reaches for the glass from the table, raising it in the air. “Here’s to the next great love story. I think I may be playing a small part in it as we speak.”
***
Neither of us reacted to Billy’s comment about his part in the next great love story even though we knew he was talking about the two of us.
Dylan walked Billy to the staircase and then ordered us each a glass of white wine from the bartender.
We’re on the dance floor now enjoying a slow song with a soothing melody.