“That’s a shitty thing to do.” He says.
“What?”
“Break up with someone over the phone.”
“It was a voicemail, so technically he didn’t even talk to me.”
Griffin shakes his head. “That’s fucked up.”
I shrug, not wanting his words to penetrate the champagne fog I’ve been operating under for the past few hours. “But I’m here now. Having fun.”
My phone rings. It’s Jess.
“Where are you? The shows going to start in a few minutes.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” I drop my phone back in my clutch.
Griffin glances at his watch.
“Shit. I’ve got to go.”
We make our way over to the door and I wait while Griffin unlocks it.
I hesitate. Would asking what he’s doing later be too forward? It is my night. I should be celebrating the success of my new line’s launch. And then there’s the fact that it’s my birthday and I’m newly single. Griffin seems like a nice guy. The kind of guy I could have a little fun with. Before I can get the words out, he turns to say goodbye.
“Have a good night, Emma,” his deep voice is smooth, like a caress.
“You, too.” I finally call out when he’s at the bottom of the stairs, but he doesn’t look back.
On my way back into the theater, I try to muster up the enthusiasm I previously had for the show. No matter how hard I try, as I walk through the lobby, my head is on a swivel looking for Griffin. Maybe he’s one of the doormen and was taking a break on the roof? Maybe he’s into half naked men and he’s here to watch the show? Could he be gay? Oh, no. Maybe I’ve been out of the dating scene for so long my ability to tell a straight man from a gay man has failed me.
After weaving through the tables, I make it back to our table where Jess is waiting with our drinks.
“Geez, I thought you’d ditched me.” She hands me a flute of champagne, but I’m still buzzing from my interaction with Griffin.
The theater lights dim and a loud techno beat starts, drawing our attention to the stage in front of us.
“No, but I met a guy.”
“What? Where?” She glances around the theater, but it’s pointless because the audience is dark now. The only light is the spotlight pointing down on the center of the stage. “This place is filled with estrogen.”
“Welcome to Rainin’ Men. We hope you enjoy tonight’s performance.” The speaker announces overhead.
I take a sip of champagne. I feel antsy. Should I leave the show and go look for Griffin? Is it crazy that I want to?
I’m debating what to do when the curtain lifts to reveal five men onstage, fog billowing around them, their bodies shadowed by the lighting backstage. Their heads are bowed. The music stops for a beat. The audience is quiet, with the exception of a few cat calls in the back, everyone is poised on the edge of their seat, waiting for the action they know is coming.
A second later the music drops back in, the spotlight pops and the men’s heads’ lift. It takes me two seconds to recognize him. There in the middle of the pack, rolling his hips to the music is Griffin.
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Thank You
Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking the time to read my book. I know there are a gazillion books to choose from, so readers like you who take a chance on an indie author are so appreciated. THANK YOU!
Thank you to my husband, Eric, and our kids for supporting me in my passion for writing. I couldn’t do this without your love and support.
To my family, Mom, Dad, and Jenny, John and Linda, Adam and Debbie, Jill and Paul: Thank you for your continued love and support. It means the world to me!
Thank you to my friends who have supported me on this journey; asking how writing is going, buying my books and spreading the word. Thank you for your friendship and love: Amanda, Ashley, Courtney, Erica, Hadley, Kate, Sam, and Sara. Special thanks to Amanda for sharing photos of her naughty bachelorette cake that inspired the one Chloe got for Lauren’s party.