Free Take a Chance on Me by Debbie Flint

thing.’
    â€˜What’s the thing?’
    â€˜It’s all been really intense lately, and … I’d rather have a night off from thinking about business.’
    â€˜That’s the thing?’
    â€˜That’s the thing.’ Sadie looked at him hopefully. It would mean she could totally forget about everything else and just let her hair down – literally and metaphorically. She tossed her hair and her blonde silky tresses played over her bare shoulder.
    â€˜Mmm, well, I’m not sure,’ he replied. She felt a flash of nerves, wondering if he was going to quiz her all night long about her trip. ‘After all, that’s my whole repertoire gone if I can’t do my “a funny thing happened at the office” routine!’ he said.
    Sadie nudged him playfully.
    â€˜No, seriously,’ he continued, picking up his drink. ‘Great idea.
Wonderful
idea. Deal. No job talk, then. No moans. No anything relating to the daily grind. Tonight we can be whoever we want to be.’
    â€˜Yes, absolutely!’ She beamed, picking up the iced water.
    â€˜In fact, let’s go the whole hog. No last names. Just Sam and Mac. And one night in Monaco. How ’bout it?’
    â€˜Well, mystery can be very exciting.’ She smiled at his enthusiasm for her suggestion to make it all incognito.
It’s like he understood her …
    â€˜Mystery, eh. Sure, why not. Cheers to mystery!’ he said, and raised his glass.
    Mystery it is,
she thought,
right down to the mystery of whether I’ll be strong enough to end this ‘one night’ early enough to be fresh for tomorrow.
    â€˜Cheers!’ she said, clinking glasses. Then she sipped through the straw and smiled
.
    If Mac’s plan tonight was to get lost in her, he was already halfway into the forest. He swallowed, realising the implications of what he was setting up. No telling her who he really was. Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? She seemed to think it was a very good thing. Maybe she had secrets too …
    God her mouth was so kissable
.
    Seeing her tongue toying with the straw while she watched him, he felt his pulse quicken a little.
    He was enjoying the anonymity – buying ordinary drinks, paying for them in cash, being in ‘mufti’ clothing, and not having to sit in the fenced-off VIP area being ogled, and occasionally approached for photographs. Keeping totally incognito would make this a night to remember – and a bit of a fantasy. An inverted fairy tale, where it was more fun to be poor than rich. And he was more like Shrek than Cinderella.
    â€˜Cheers to mystery, romance and adventure!’ He raised his beer glass again, and this time she lifted the cocktail glass. ‘Here,’ he said, linking his arm through hers, as they brought the glasses to their mouths. Their faces were just inches apart.
    â€˜Chin, chin!’ She laughed, her face beaming.
    Never a sweeter sound than that laughter,
he thought. She was enchanting. Ordinarily he’d opt for safe, disposable arm candy with absolutely no chance of reeling him in. But there was something so refreshing about her realness, her womanliness. Her authenticity. It was filling the heart of him with a yearning to get closer. They relaxed back into their seats together.
    â€˜And what else are we drinking to? End of an era you said earlier?’
    â€˜Oh, it’s nothing much,’ he said. ‘Just a decision I’ve been toying with for ages about … a job.’
    â€˜You got a new job? Won’t the Captain be mortified?’
    â€˜No – he’d be going, too. But not even he knows that yet. So that’s all I can tell you, or we’ll break our pact before we’ve even begun!’
    â€˜Well, cheers to new directions!’
    They linked arms again and this time the straw got in the way and flicked a little of the cocktail onto her cheek. She giggled and he wiped it off, and