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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2047805-Entranced
Rated: E · Novella · Romance/Love · #2047805
A short story about a single moment that can't be defined.
The vodka spill was big enough to begin dripping over the edge of the bar and onto my standard leather slip's on. I stepped back and sighed but had to force a smile as the drunk guy gave a chuckle and hiccupped 'whoops, sorry sweetie'.
         I struggled to stifle a scowl and hastily gave an insincere laugh as I fumbled for the rag stashed underneath the bar. The spill dealt with, I reluctantly returned my attention to the guy.
         "I'm guessing you'd like another?" I said too loudly to be heard over the thumping music. He shot me with what he probably thought was a flirtatious smile.
         "You tell me:" I just gave him a nod and fixed him another fire engine. It was late enough that only a couple people were gathered around the bar, drinking more than they should. Everyone else was dancing, the strobe flight flashing stark, white light on their red, black, blue, green dresses. I hated Saturday nights. Because I had to be here at 'Entranced' nightclub in my too-tight uniform with my too-tight standard leather slip-on's.
         "Taylor!" I looked to the side of the bar to see my manager, Rod, standing there. I flew to him immediately and he gestured to the VIP lounges buried at the fringe of the club.
         "I need you on glass collection. Tom hurt his foot again."
         "Sure thing." I forced another smile. I collected a gleaming silver tray from beneath the bar and left, holding it high in the air above the thrashing, sweating dancers. The first lounge was crowded, a single, red rope separating the raised area from the dance floor. I ducked underneath the rope and made my way through the chatting people with alcohol on their breath and began collecting all the sticky glasses.
         "Here." I looked up to see a man I didn't know handing me a couple of glasses he'd obviously collected from the other tables in the lounge. I gave him a genuine smile of gratitude and reached to take the glasses from him and he moved closer to make it easier for me. The strobe light flashed then, throwing brilliant light onto his face and I dropped the glasses.
         "Ah." I'd pulled a Tom, my foot was aching but before I could bend down and retrieve the glasses which thankfully hadn't smashed, the man bent down and stacked them carefully on my tray.
         "You alright?" He asked and I looked at his face again.
         "My foot only aches," I quipped clumsily and he gave a little laugh. He stepped closer to me to be heard over the music and I suddenly didn't mind that the music in Entranced was always too loud.
         "Aren't you waitresses meant to have otherworldly balance?" he smirked. I shrugged and didn't say anything. I was in no hurry to pick up my tray and leave. I wanted to stay with him.
         "What do they call the clumsy waitress of 'Entranced'" he asked again, still with that stupid smirk on his face. I laughed.
         "Taylor at your service, sir."
"I hate being called sir. To you, it's Vance, are we clear?" He asked in a mock stern voice. I pretended to salute him and he laughed again. I was close enough to feel his breath on my neck. He stopped laughing and we were just both staring. I felt warmth in my cheeks and bit my bottom lip. I wanted be around him.
         "Is Taylor like a name that was picked out before you were born, like for a girl or boy thing, just in case?" He teased.
         "Maybe. Was Vance a name that was picked because your mother's favourite literary hero bore the name?" I teased back.
         "Maybe." He echoed.
         'Actually, I'm thinking that's where you get your inspiration to rescue damsels in distress."
         "I'd hardly call you a damsel in distress. The look on your face when that guy spilt his drink on the bar did not belong to a girl who couldn't handle her own." I smiled and he seemed to realise what he'd just confessed to because he fell silent and the light from the strobe light flashing again showed off the flush on his face.
         "My shift's almost over. Then I go home." I told him. He gave a nod, still looking at me. I didn't want to go home. I wanted to stay here with him. I wanted this night to go longer, the music to keep playing, the people around us to keep talking and dancing.
         "Maybe I'll see you again then." Is all he said. I bit my bottom lip again and picked up my tray.
         "I hope so." I told him.
         Outside of the club, the night was perfect and I felt warm for the whole walk home.




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