Dinner Club

I thought it would be better if I separated my posts from Amber's, so that's what I'm going to do. If you haven't read the first 12 posts that I made over there, feel free to jump over and read them all. I might end up re posting them here at a later date.

I wanted to post yesterday about my evening with Devon at the club but I just couldn't find the time.

A couple hours had passed since I had gotten the flowers and I still didn't know what to do about them but I knew I wasn't going to be taking them home with me on the off chance that Devon saw them and got stupid about it.

I thought I was safe leaving them at the office, Devon never visits me at work but what do you know? The one time I don't want him to show up, he comes waltzing through the door, whistling. "Hey there baby," he sauntered up to my desk and rested his bum on the corner, the smile on his face not faltering until he noticed the flowers on my desk. "Yours?" He leaned over to grab the card that was sitting next to them.

I tried to grab the card before he could but my reflexes were slower than I hoped. "Thank you for last night," his brow arched as he lowered the card, his eyes devoid of any emotion as they met mine. "What did you do last night that deserved flowers Janie?"

"I don't know," I grabbed the card from his hand.

"You don't know?" He repeated slowly before asking, "How drunk did you get last night that you don't remember?"

"I didn't get drunk," I snapped. "I don't know why they were sent to me nor do I know who sent them."

He was quiet for a moment. "Are you sure they were for you?"

I never even thought about that. "The delivery guy said they were for me, he said my name." Before I could stop myself, I blurted out. "I thought they were from you."

"Me?" His lip twitched. "Why would you think that? What did you do for me last night that I don't remember?"

I can't even describe how my heart sank. I was holding on to a thin thread of hope that for some crazy reason, he actually did send me the flowers. I wanted him to be the one.

"You're right, that was a crazy thought. You don't have a romantic or thoughtful bone in your body."

He chuckled, "Ah Janie, you know all this negative talk isn't doing you any favors." Picking up the card I had placed back on the desk, he read it again. "Thanks for last night..." he reached across and grabbed the flowers roughly. "I didn't think Cary could afford dinner, let alone something like this."

"Hey!" I glared at him. "Just because Cary isn't rolling in dough, doesn't mean that he can't buy nice things when he wants too. He just has to work hard for his money. There's nothing wrong with working hard Devon."

Instead of saying anything, he shrugged.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ah yes," he put the flowers down. "I wanted to see what your plans were for tonight. Another flower deserving date with Cary maybe?"

"Maybe." I really didn't have any plans.

"Well then," he held out his hand to me as he stood up. "I won't expect to see you around 7 at the club then." His arm slipped around my waist as he pulled me to him. "And I won't stop by your house around twenty to seven to pick you up either."

"There would be no point."

"Good," he smiled. "I'm glad that we agree."

Wait. What?

I wanted to ask him if we were making plans or not but he had released me and was on his way to the door before I could.

"Bye Janie," he waved and then he was gone.

I wasn't about to take chances that evening. I had debated it over and over in my head, I figured that he was doing it again, telling me what we were doing instead of asking. I was on half a mind to make plans and stand him up if he came.

But I didn't. I talked myself in to believing that he was going to be there at 6:40 and he was going to take me to the club for dinner.

And of course, I was right.

"I thought I'd swing by on my way out," he told me when I opened the front door for him at exactly 6:40 - what can I say? the man is normally always on time, I've learnt to be ready because he wasn't that patient when it came to waiting for me to finish getting ready.

"Good timing," I told him. "I was about to head out."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled. "Were you going some place special?"

I have to say now, this little exchange and the one we had at work was very new to me; Devon never spoke like this ever. I didn't know whether to go along with it or what.

I decided to go along with it, maybe because I was too shocked to do anything else.

"Oh you know," I gave a small shrug. "I was thinking a nice dinner at the club."

"Here," he held out his hand when I retrieved my jacket from the hall closet. "Let me help you with that."

I hesitated briefly before handing over my jacket and turned around. This is so weird! Where the hell is the real Devon? Where's the overbearing, 'my way or the highway' brute that I'm use too? Who is this guy?

"So the club..." I could feel his breath on my neck as he spoke, it was giving me goosebumps! "...it's funny that you should mention it because I was heading there myself."

I turned my head towards the sound of his voice, his lips were just a breath away from my cheek. My 'Were you really?' came out huskier than I anticipated.

"Mmmhmm," the sound came from somewhere deep in his throat. It made me want to say the hell with dinner and go upstairs. "I could give you a ride if you like," his voice was low and seductive, any longer like this and we wouldn't make it to dinner.

I was going to tempt fate, I wasn't going to break away. I've been wanting this from him for a while now. I thought I was dreaming and I didn't want to wake up at all. "I would love that," I purred as I gazed up at him from under my lashes.

Hot, smoldering, that was the look he gave me.

His hands moved at my waist, drawing my jacket close. "We-ll," his voice cracked so he cleared his throat. And then the moment was gone. He backed off. "Let's get going, shall we?"

I wanted to scream and cry. I wanted to tell him he was a bastard for playing with me like that but then he held out his hand and I thought that maybe all wasn't lost. He didn't normally volunteer to hold my hand when we went anywhere.

"Lead the way," I grinned as I slipped my hand into his.

God, it felt so good. His hand wrapped around mine, his thumb softly stroking the back of my hand. The whole walk to his car, I felt like I was floating.

How mess up is that? That having him hold my hand means so much to me?

Dinner was great - well the food was great at least. And Devon was great too - he was paying attention to me and touching me - until he excused himself to the bathroom and came back to find that Colin at our table.