This stranger wasn’t such bad company while I waited for my drink, which I watched Rick make from start to finish. I still checked it for any funny business and sipped slowly.

“Rick does a lot of questionable things, but he wouldn’t slip you a Mickey.”

“If it’s all the same, I’m sure I’ll get taken out first by all the cologne in here,” I said.

The currents shifted in the room as the door closed and people left in pairs. Closing time should be soon, and if I didn’t want to look too pathetic walking out alone, I had to wolf down this freebie and leave.

“Well, I should introduce myself officially if that’s the case.” He held out his hand. “Leon.”

“You sure you want to waste formalities on someone you’ll never see again?” 

“Even so, I won’t lose out on showing some kindness.”

I still shook his hand; it was firm yet genial. Considerate. “Darzsa.” 

Leon sipped his drink. “I’m kind of disappointed it’s not actually ‘cutie,’ but that’s just as fitting.” 

I didn’t have high hopes for the drinks, but a little added charm made this second round smoother. It beat sitting in my living room staring at the phone or watching that first-floor apartment's window. Maybe I wanted to forget it all for a few hours, venture out again, and not care where I landed.

“So, do you always come out in these high-end brands?” I asked.

“I admit I came here on a whim. A place like this is good for getting away from your troubles for a bit. The drinks are shit, but sometimes the conversation is good.” Leon called Rick over to refill his glass. “At least I hope so.” 

“I’d say it is.” The longer I sat here nursing a drink that by now was water with a splash of gin, I admitted to myself the very reasons why I entertained Leon for so long. “You must talk a lot if you and Rick are on a first-name basis.”

“There aren’t too many joints like this, so it’s not hard to put names with faces. The topics of conversation are limited here, and I don’t run my mouth with just anyone. I take it you’re the same way.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Something tells me this isn’t your first stop. You turned all these heads when you walked in but still chose the bar. It doesn’t take much to buy a drink, but you haven’t shot me down yet, and something also tells me you wouldn’t hesitate to do so. Also,” Leon tilted his head, “I’ve had my hand on your thigh for most of this little chat, and you don’t seem to mind.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t mind his hand; I was aware the second he placed it there. The warmth and gentle squeezes between his sentences. I wanted to see how high he would go, what more he would do. “Not at all.”

How he’d feel against my skin.

Leon looked at me, his brown eyes low like he was contemplating what I was too deep into with him to ask. His hand was still on my leg, but nothing came from those parted lips. It was too late to take back, so I had to own my forwardness while not breaking eye contact and slowly dying on the inside.

“Then I’ll push my luck a bit further and ask if you’d like to continue our lovely conversation elsewhere,” Leon said. 

I cupped my hand over his. Whether it was the gin eroding my stomach or the rush of imagining his clothes on the floor, I was ready to leave. “I wouldn’t mind talking a bit more. Or less.”

Leon freed my leg and reached for his wallet, saying, “I’ll see you outside.”

Rick winked at me and cleared our glasses. I took a deep breath and walked out of the bar, somehow shocked that Leon followed behind me a moment later. With the smoke cleared and a sobering cool breeze, he was a broad-shouldered dream come true—I lucked up. My keys pierced my hand again, but it was anticipation for what was next this time. And I was more than ready.

***

The universe needed balance because after agreeing to leave with Leon, I suggested we go back to my place. My decision-making skills were probably nonexistent at this point in the night, but if I ended up buried in the desert, I didn’t die choking on a tub of Rocky Road. 

I parked and forced myself not to look at Mathieu’s door or search for his car. I hadn’t thought about him for the past few hours, and I couldn’t start now. Leon pulled into the empty space next to me, thankfully blocking my view. We silently acknowledged each other, and he followed me upstairs. 

I left in a hurry earlier, so my bedroom had cut fabrics and discarded shirts I decided not to wear on the bed and floor. The alarm clock on my nightstand read that it was nearing midnight, and given why I let someone new see my room, it seemed a bit silly to tidy up.

“You sew?” Leon asked, trailing his fingers over the scraps I used for Lou’s dress.

“Yea, my friend performs at Catille’s.” I already goofed not opting for a motel, so I made up for it by not divulging any more personal details. And if he found the gowns in my closet or random makeup, I had an excuse. Damn, I was rusty.

I got antsy and gathered my bobbins and thimbles and threw them into the box with my sewing machine in the corner. Next was my shirts and an assortment of bowties I didn’t wear. Soon I’d run out of things to put away and face the bemused—and how did he become more good-looking?—elephant in the room.

 

Leon rounded the bed and grabbed the same piece of thread that I kept picking up and dropping. “If you’ve changed your mind, no hard feelings. I can leave.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just that I’m not… I—”

“You’re not used to picking up charming guys in bars and taking them home?”

“Something like that.” I was damn near giddy, and this wasn’t new territory for me. From the ride home until now, I tried to turn it down a notch to retain some of my dignity. But we were here now, and all my decorum flew out the window.

Leon situated the pillows and lay down, making himself at home. I sat on the edge of the bed and silently wondered what happened next. Well, what didn’t involve me unashamedly throwing myself at him.

“I swear I don’t have cooties,” he said. “You can get comfortable in your own bed.”

His candidness was almost endearing if it didn’t remind me of a certain someone else. But he was right—we had the same intentions, no point in acting shy now. I kicked off my shoes and lay propped on my arm beside him. Talking was within my current range—too bad I suddenly forgot how to do that.