When You Know

Chapter Two

Music spilled out of the open doors of Heatstroke as Marion and Hope walked in.

"This is supposed to be one of the most popular dance clubs in Dallas right now," Marion said, pitching her voice so Hope could hear her.

Hope nodded, smiling in return. Her head was beginning to throb, her feet ached, but she wouldn't spoil Marion's fun for the world.

This was their third stop of the night. The other two clubs had been the usual: a tight crush of bodies, the hint of unpleasant heat and stench from too many people in one place.

Heatstroke was different. It was cooler for one thing; Hope could feel the blessed air wash over her as they edged their way inside the building. It was two stories, with a large bar taking up the bottom left corner. A dance floor dominated the rest of the bottom floor.

"There's a smaller bar upstairs," Marion told her, "plus tables and a smaller dance area. Let's get a drink. How about a dirty martini?"

Hope nodded again and followed Marion to the bar, accepting her drink when the bartender handed it to her.

Marion clinked her glass against Hope's, sipped, and began to move her body in time to the music. "This place is great," she announced. "Let's finish these drinks and go dance."

Hope dutifully downed the rest of her martini and let Marion drag her to the dance floor.

She followed along with Marion as best she could, but laughingly begged for a break two songs later.

"I just don't have your rhythm or stamina," she admitted breathlessly.

"You do fine," Marion responded with a grin. With the instinct and knowledge that came from knowing someone for years, she ran a hand down Hope's arm. "You have the beginning of a headache," she said, "and you're ready to go."

"Not at all," Hope objected. "This is your night. I go where you go."

Marion laughed. "Why do you try to lie to me? I've had fun. Give me," she consulted her narrow-banded gold watch, "another hour and we can go. Is that okay?"

"Whatever you want," Hope agreed. She started at the tap on her shoulder. Turning, she saw a tall, fit man with an engaging smile.

"Excuse me for interrupting," he said. "I noticed you two on the dance floor and wanted to introduce myself. May I buy you ladies a drink?"

His smile and question may have included both of them, Hope noticed, but his eyes remained fixed on Marion.

"That would be nice. Thank you," Marion replied.

His smile widened into a grin. "I was hoping you'd agree. I sent my buddy upstairs to try and snag a table for us. Shall we?"

He fell into step behind the two women, following them up the short flight of steps to the upper level. He spotted his friend waving at him and veered right. Marion and Hope trailed after him, Hope giving Marion a slight nudge and an approving wink.

"Ladies. My name is Duncan. This is my friend, Frazier."

With introductions returned, Marion sat, and Duncan immediately claimed the chair next to her.

Hope shot a grin at Frazier and sat in the chair he pulled out for her.

"I think she's bewitched him," Frazier murmured. "He caught a flash of red on the dance floor, saw her face, and came to a dead stop. I thought he was going to get trampled."

Hope laughed. "Marion seems to be enjoying his attention."

It was true. Marion had turned to face Duncan and appeared to be totally immersed in their own private conversation.

***

An hour passed, then another, as Hope and Frazier made small talk and were mostly ignored by the others. Finally, Hope decided she was going home.

"Marion," she said gently.

Marion started. "Yes?"

"I'm going to go home. It's been fun," she said to the group at large. "Duncan, Frazier, it was great meeting you. Thanks for the drinks."

"Wait. I'll come with you," Marion decided.

Hope caught Duncan's crestfallen look and shook her head. "No; you stay. Have fun."

Marion bit her lip. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Hope gave her a quick hug and whispered, "Be careful though."

"Text me when you get home," Marion ordered.

"I will. Have a great rest of the night."

With a wave, Hope left. Frazier tactfully waited fifteen minutes, then took his own leave amid Duncan's weak protests.

Duncan watched him go and turned toward Marion, a slow smile sliding over his face. "Alone at last. What should we do now?"