Once back inside, Annalise lined glasses of champagne on a tray, preparing to circle the room with them. She lifted the tray, then suddenly, a pair of hands appeared from over her shoulders and removed the tray, setting it carefully back on the bar in front of her. She spun around, finding herself nose to nose with AJ. He stepped back, grinning slightly when she demanded, "What are you doing?"
"You're going to dance with me now," he simply stated.
"I can't...I'm working," she said.
He shrugged and lifted the tray again, pausing to drape a white towel over his arm. "Okay then," he said, "let's work." He drifted off into the crowd, leaving Annalise to follow behind.
"You can't do this," she called to him over the music, watching him hand out glasses of champagne.
"Yes I can," he argued, "it's easy...I think I'm in the wrong line of work."
Exasperated, she said, "No...I mean you really can't do this."
"I can do whatever I want," he shot back, "it's my party."
"Your party? But I thought...I mean...wait a minute." She stopped dead in her tracks, he faced her, waiting patiently to hear what she had to say, balancing the tray with ease.
"Then...you're Backstreet Boy!"
"Yeah...no duh," he stated, "thanks for pointing that out."
At her dumbfounded look, he shook his head and grinned, "You mean you really didn't know that?"
She shook her head, "I don't listen to your music...and you...I...um...well, you don't exactly look like the cheesy pop, boyband type."
"Ah...the boyband thing again," he said in mock annoyance.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, struggling to find the right words, "um...uh...."
"It's okay," he said, "no biggie. But now you have to dance with me."
"I really can't AJ...I'm working."
The tray was empty now, he passed it to another member of the catering crew who was walking by.
"Look...we hired you right?" Annalise nodded. "Okay then...you can dance if I say you can. And right now...you're going to dance." He dragged her out onto the floor before she could protest.
Mark Morrison's "Return of the Mack" was blaring loudly, and she easily let her body move to the beat. She watched him dance, moving closer and closer to her, until finally she was clinging to his shoulders and moving right along with him. His arms settled around her waist, drawing her even closer to the heat of his body. His mouth was just inches from hers as he sang along to the song, his hot breath fanned across her cheeks. His hands were resting against the bare skin of her back, and she shivered at the contact of his warm skin. Her heart was beating an erratic rhythm, pounding against her ribcage. She went along with it, wrapping her arms around his neck, trailing her fingers across the nape of his neck. Their gazes locked brown eyes stared into green ones. It seemed as if they were the only two people left in the world. Something big was happening, she knew, but she couldn't explain what it was. It was over too quickly. When the song ended, she pulled herself away from him reluctantly, breaking the weird tension between them. "I need to get back to work," she said shakily, then ran off before he had a chance to reply.
Back at the bar, Jade raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"I don't want to hear it," Annalise snapped, "why didn't you tell me who he is?"
"Does it really matter?," Jade asked, unable to wipe the smirk off her face.
"Yes it matters," Annalise replied, "I don't flirt with clients...and I definitely don't dance with clients." Jade just shrugged.
Annalise maintained her distance for the rest of the night, remaining cool and collected whenever AJ showed up for
drinks. It was getting extemely late, Annalise was dead tired. Finally it was time to pack up and head out. She closed the
bar, wiping a towel across the marble top. She knelt down behind the bar to gather her things, scooping her backpack up
off the floor and settling it on her shoulders. She stood up again, noticing a stray napkin sitting on the bar.
She picked it up, intending to throw it away, then she noticed. Written across the napkin in broad, black ink was a phone
number, and a room number. It was addressed to "Cate." Sighing heavily, she stuffed the napkin into her backpack, not
having a single doubt about who it was from. She dug her keys out, calling her goodbyes to Jade and the crew. Her
muscles ached as she slid into her car. She couldn't resist examining the napkin again, reading it over and over. She lit a
cigarette and started the car. How had a simple, harmless flirtation developed into a full blown proposition?
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