“Yes, let’s check out the top level and we’ll come back down to have a cocktail here.”
“Okay.”
He leads me up the crowded stairs, and when we get to the top I am completely flabbergasted.
A huge dance floor, filled with beautiful women in hardly any clothes.
“This must be the model floor.” Daniel smirks as he watches them.
I tug the hem of my dress down, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Jeez.
“Okay, back downstairs,” I say.
Daniel’s eyes stay fixed to the girls. “Can we not stay here for a while?”
“I’m not drunk enough for this floor.” I grab his hand and lead him back down the stairs.
“We’re coming back here as soon as possible.”
“Fine. Cocktails first though.”
The stairs are busy and a group of men are coming up, and I lock eyes with Elliot and flick Daniel’s hand away like a hot potato.
“Kate.” He tries to hide his smile and fails miserably. “What are you doing here?”
“Cooking lessons,” I reply, to try and be witty.
His eyes drop down to my toes and then back up to my face. “And I can see that you’ve got that stove smoking hot.”
Oh . . .
My eyes go to Daniel and he smiles broadly. “I would say on fire.”
Elliot’s eyes flick back to Daniel. “What was your name again?”
“Daniel.”
“Daniel who?”
Daniel smiles. “Daniel who lives with Kate, that’s all you need to know.”
Elliot stares at Daniel; his face is emotionless but he’s clearly unimpressed with that answer.
I look from one to the other. Oh . . . jeez, awkward.
“Um, we should go. It was nice seeing you.” I smile as we continue walking down the stairs.
“Goodbye,” Elliot says as he continues walking up.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “Daniel who lives with Kate . . . what the hell was that?”
“He wants to google me.”
I screw up my face in confusion. “Why would he want to do that?”
“To see if I’m a threat.”
“What?”
“I’m telling you this guy has got it for you. The other night when you were out of it, he nearly didn’t leave.” We approach the bar on level three. “Can I have two margaritas please?” he asks.
“Sure thing.” The waitress turns to make them.
I stare at Daniel. “Why?”
“Said that he didn’t know if he should leave because I might take advantage of you.”
“Elliot?” I frown.
“Yes.”
“He actually said that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“He didn’t want to leave you with me. Why not?”
“Here you go.” The waitress hands over our drinks.
“Thanks.” We clink glasses.
“Obviously he doesn’t like his stuff being touched.”