Those words made Smoke shift a bit in his seat. The idea of Amira ending up naked at the end of the date was a little too good to be true. It was going to happen. There was no way he was giving up without that happening, but he was sure it wouldn’t be on this night.
“We all want to get married someday,” Seinfeld continued. “That’s the reason we date. We want to have sex, then get married, then maybe make a baby or two. But have you ever noticed that a wedding is all about the woman?” he asked, making the men groan and the women clap.
“Yeah, the idea behind the tuxedo is the woman’s point of view that men are all the same. So, we might as well dress them that way. That’s why a wedding is like the joining together of a beautiful, glowing bride . . . and some guy. The tuxedo is a wedding safety device, created by women because they know men are undependable. So, in case the groom chickens out, everybody just takes one step over, and she marries the next guy.”
Smoke gave Amira a wink when she gave him a satisfied grin. She seemed to like these jokes being thrown at the entire audience, and specifically focused on Smoke and her.
“Then after the wedding is finished, you realize that marriage is like a game of chess except the board is flowing water, the pieces are made of smoke, and no move you make will have any effect on the outcome of the game.”
“True, very true,” Amira said as she gave Smoke another sassy smile. Damn, he was falling hard for this woman.
“You’ve been amazing tonight, Seattle. I hope to see you again soon,” Seinfeld said, then left the stage to a rowdy round of applause.
Smoke stood, helped Amira to her feet, and they exited the club together. Their night was just beginning, but it had begun in a spectacular way. What came next was soon to be determined.
Chapter Four
Amira took a deep breath as she stood in front of the intimate jazz club. Her night hadn’t been what she’d expected. Smoke wasn’t who she’d anticipated either. It confused her. She considered herself very intelligent so to be so wrong about someone wasn’t something she liked.
Smoke had taken her out for a very nice dinner, and then he’d answered her questions without hesitation. He didn’t seem to be hiding anything from her. Sure, he was confident, and a bit overwhelming for her. But, at the same time, there was a tender side to him that completely threw off her logical brain.
She’d expected Smoke to be nothing more than a man who worked out non-stop with no brains and even less personality. She’d realized in Fiji he was smooth, but it was easy to lay on the charm for a night. Yet he hadn’t shifted what he’d said to her in Fiji to what he was saying to her now.
Did that mean he was being honest?
Ugh. Amira didn’t know what to do about any of it. She’d excused herself from their intimate space at the bar at the club. They were still waiting for their table, and he hadn’t seemed to mind being crammed into a small space with her where their legs and hips brushed together. They’d left the comedy club and he’d brought her to a jazz lounge for the proposed dancing. She was nervous.
She’d needed to get a breath of fresh air. He thought she was in the bathroom. She was sure if he knew she’d come outside, he’d be right there. The man was a tad overprotective. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she actually respected that in a man.
“Okay, you can do this,” she said as she pulled her mirror from her purse and looked at her image. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes unusually bright. She looked . . . excited. What was this man doing to her?
She shook her head as she put her compact away and took a deep breath. Maybe a dance or two would help loosen her up. Then again, if it was in Smoke’s arms, she didn’t think anything would loosen. No, he already had her body on fire. What she really needed was a very, very stiff drink.
She’d agreed to go on the date with him because her patient had pretty much painted her into a corner. Now that she was on the date and having a good time, she might as well enjoy herself. She didn’t take enough time to do just that.
Amira loved to work. It was her driving passion in life, the thing that put a smile on her lips. There was nothing wrong with feeling that way. Since she was so infatuated with work, she didn’t have a whole heck of a lot of fun. If nothing else, hanging out with Smoke would bring some fun into her life.
Did that mean she’d want to see him again after it was all over? He’d come in from out of nowhere and now that she knew him, she had a feeling it was going to be very difficult not to know the man.
Before she could step back inside the bar, a family came around the corner, a man with his arm around whom Amira assumed was his wife, and their three children who circled them as they ate ice-cream and talked nonstop. The father threw back his head and laughed at something the littlest girl said, then the mother looked up at her husband with pure adoration.
A small pang shot through Amira. She’d given up on the idea of a family long ago. She believed a person could either choose family or a career, and she’d made her choice long ago. She didn’t think she could work as much as she wanted and still have children. Her parents had done that, but they also hadn’t been the ones to raise her — the nannies had. She didn’t want to have children only to have them raised by someone else. For Amira, it was better to not have a family at all.
Amira quickly swept those thoughts from her brain as the couple passed. She firmed her shoulders, knowing she’d been gone too long. She stepped back inside the bar, feeling the rhythm of the smooth jazz slide straight through her as the live band did a saxophone solo. It was loud, yet intimate. The bar was dim, making it difficult to see too far ahead. Smoke had certainly chosen a prime spot for romance.
As Amira moved forward, brushing past people who either smiled at her or acted as if she wasn’t there, she realized this was where she wanted to be in that moment. She needed to socialize once in a while, and if she had a few drinks and then a few dances, she’d probably feel better about everything in her life. She vowed to let go a little more often so she wouldn’t be so flustered by a man the next time someone like Smoke showed up in front of her.
Someone bumped into Amira and she nearly fell over. He apologized and held out a hand to steady her. She laughed it off, then moved past him as the crowd parted. Amira stopped, her breath caught in her throat, her eyes going wide as she gazed at the scene before her — and then she tried to figure out how she felt about it.
Smoke was no longer alone as he sat at the bar where Amira had been ten minutes earlier. That had been fast.
When Amira realized jealously was flowing through her, she was shocked. She couldn’t ever, not once in her life, remember feeling that emotion. She’d never been so attracted to someone that she’d feared losing them. She certainly had never been in love with anyone. If you weren’t all that attracted, and you weren’t in love, there was no reason to feel such a messy emotion as jealousy. She knew, intellectually, that jealousy was a selfish emotion, but it sure was a strong one.
She had a right to feel the emotion now, didn’t she? Yes, she did, because he was supposed to be on a date with her. She’d only been gone for a few minutes — ten at the most. So, for him to replace her in the blink of an eye was ridiculous.