Better Than New Ch. 02

"Yes. They do sound good, don't they? Do you like to dance?"

"I do. Care to join me?"

She gave me a winning smile and began to rise. "Let's go."

She really did like to dance. "You're really good," I offered.

"Thanks. It's been too long since I had a chance to enjoy myself like this. Thank you for suggesting it."

"Thank you for coming with me."

"I wouldn't have come with anyone else," she said, looking at me with a serious gaze."

"Well ... now I'm flattered."

"I mean ... I trust you. Trust is a big thing with me."

"Yes ... I can see that. It took you a while, but I'm glad we've reached that plateau."

She changed the subject. "What did you think about Carolyn and Paul's engagement?"

"I'm happy for them both. Paul called me after they got back from her parents' place. I wondered if he would ever find the right woman for him. I think Carolyn's super. They're going to be great together."

Doreen smiled and seemed to pull me closer. "Yes. I think so too."

I don't know how long we danced, but holding her in my arms was becoming very comfortable, almost natural.

"I think I'd like to rest for a few minutes, Val. We've been out here for quite a while," she said with a smile.

"I didn't notice. I was too busy enjoying myself."

The band took a break and I went to the bar to buy Doreen another glass of wine while I switched to soda water.

"Can I tell you something ... something private?" she asked as we sat at the little table.

"Of course. I don't gossip."

"I know. This past six months has been the happiest time I've had in many, many years. You've given me an opportunity and supported me as I learned a business I knew absolutely nothing about. I'm very grateful for that. You can't know how much."

"I'm glad you're happy. I can tell by how you act each day. Now and then I see a dark cloud pass by you, but it doesn't seem to last. The guys like and respect you, and that's critical. They do the real work. You and I just organize things. I'm very proud of what you've accomplished so far."

"Thanks to you," she said. She paused for a few moments and I waited to see if there was more.

"That dark cloud you mentioned. It's part of my past; a past I'm trying to forget. Someday I'll get up the courage to tell you the story. For now, I'm just thankful for what I've been given. I'm excited about the future for the first time in a long while. You're responsible for that, and I'm very grateful."

"Come on, let's dance," I said, trying to break the serious mood. She almost jumped to her feet.

As midnight approached, the obligatory champagne was distributed to each table.

"We could get pretty silly with this much for ourselves," Doreen suggested.

"Yes, we could. That wouldn't be all bad, would it?"

"I thought you were the designated driver?"

"I can always call a taxi instead."

"And leave that beautiful car here all by itself?" she asked in mock horror.

"Yeah ... I guess you're right. But don't let me hold you back. Celebrate. This is the beginning of a whole new year and you're on a roll. Good things are coming your way, I can just tell."

"You know ... for the first time in a long time, I think you're right. I am going to celebrate."

As the countdown began, I put my arm around Doreen's waist and held her close. She didn't flinch, and didn't protest. We had made another step forward. Of course, a few glasses of champagne had loosened up her inhibitions. She was having fun, and I was having just as much fun watching her.

"Happy New Year, Val," she yelled over the noise of the crowd at the stroke of twelve. She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a wonderful, soul-searing kiss that I was completely unprepared for.

"Happy New Year, Doreen," I finally responded as I recovered from the surprise.

We stood there, looking at each other for what seemed like minutes, but was likely only seconds.

"I shouldn't have done that," she said at last.

"I'd have been pretty disappointed if you hadn't," I said.

"I think I've had too much to drink."

"It's New Years Eve, Doreen. It's part of the tradition."

"I'm going to hate myself in the morning," she moaned.

"I hope not. Besides, the band is back in business and I would love to dance with you again."

"Oh ... yeah ... dancing. I think I remember how," she giggled. Now I knew she was going to be okay.

I took her in my arms and we began to slowly move together. We had no destination in mind, just holding each other and rocking slowly back and forth.

"I was right. You are the most beautiful woman here tonight."

"When did you say that," she challenged. She had pushed back from me slightly and was looking up at me with a questioning, but unfocused stare.

"I guess I've been saying it to myself ever since I saw you at your apartment."

"Are you trying to get me into your bed, Mr. Keating?"

"I decline to answer that question. If I say no, you'll be insulted that I wasn't sincere with my comment. If I say yes, you'll think the worst of me."

"You're trying to confuse me."

"How am I doing?"

"I think we should go now. I think I'm drunk. Did you do that to me, Mr. Keating?"

"No ma'am. You did it all by yourself."

"I don't believe you. I'm never drunk. I don't even drink ... much."

"Well, you did have a little champagne to celebrate tonight. That must have been what did it."

"Yes ... you're right! That's it! It's the champagne. I knew there would be a reason. Are you going to look after me, Val?"

"Yes. I'm going to take you home and make sure you're safe in your own apartment."

"Oh ... yes. Safe. That's good. Safe. I want to be safe. You're my knight in shining armor, Val. You make me feel safe. You're so good to me. Will you marry me?"

"Uhhm ... not tonight. Maybe later, when you're feeling better."

"I feel fine. Why won't you marry me? You're my hero. You saved me."

"You can thank me tomorrow. Right now, I think I should get you home."

It was a struggle. Doreen was obviously not a drinker. She hadn't had that much, but she was clearly inebriated. I managed to get her coat on and guide her to my car, but within seconds of closing the door, she was asleep. When I got to her apartment building, she was only partly conscious as I helped her to the elevator and finally to her door. I fished around in her purse to find her keys and let us into the room.

"You're so kind, Mr. Keating. You always try to help me. You're very kind. I'm very lucky that you are my husband."

I chuckled at that. "Your husband wants you to go to bed, dear. You're very tired and need your rest. Let's get you into bed."

I didn't attempt to undress her. I pulled back the duvet and placed her on the bed after removing her shoes and loosening her dress. I pulled the duvet up and left the apartment, hoping she would be all right until morning.

As I drove home, I wondered about that strange conversation she was having in her drunken state. How much of that was imagination, and how much was something else. In vino veritas?

To be continued...

Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their assistance and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.