He has never seen her so much as take a sip of an alcoholic drink – though she drinks a soft drink every so often - yet she's at the club almost every Friday (or Saturday) night for 3 and a half months. He's the bartender.
She knows she has made the bartender curious. Him and the dozen guys that have tried to buy her a drink (she refused them all).
He watches her dance. She has commanded the dance floor from her third week. Everyone gives her the space she needs for her dances. But whenever someone asks her to dance she replies that if they know the quick jive she will.
She was waiting for him to serve her. She was leaning on the bar, out of breath. When he approached her she looked up at him with a smile.
"Apple martini – on the house."
She smiled at him, "Sorry, but unless you want to take me to hospital I would rather stick to Coca Cola."
"Hospital?" he leaned towards her, resting his arms on the bar. "I'm intrigued. May I ask why?"
"I'm allergic to alcohol. Not severely but I've never tested how far I can go before I need to be hospitalised. I would rather leave it that way."
"How about a Coke on the house then?"
"Are you allowed to?"
He shrugged, "Let's just say I'm buying you a drink."
She smiled, "Well then, thank you."
She hands him a business card, "You should come."
He flipped it over to find the number and address of a dance school, and written under it Saturday 27th 10am-2pm. He decides to go.
He goes – it's an 'open day' at a dance school. She teaches everyone the quick jive. She asks him to dance.
Next Friday night she is at his club again. "I would ask you to dance but I'm guessing you are not allowed to."
"I don't want to get you in trouble with your boss."
"I don't have a boss."
"But-? You own this place?"
"You own one of the top night clubs in this city and you haven't hired enough bartenders that you don't have to work?"
"Yeah I have – I like working though. And I learn which people treat the bartenders like crap so I don't let them back in and which people should be allowed back in."
She slid her arms around his neck and worked her fingers into his slightly shaggy hair. "And I'm treating the bartenders nice enough to come back?"
"You treat everyone nicely," he said only just loud enough for her to hear it over the music as he put his forehead against hers and put his hands on her hips. "Sometimes I'm not sure whether I'm special or not."
"I'm dancing with you aren't I?"
He kissed her lightly, fleetingly. "And you let me buy you a drink. I must be really special."
"Am I special?"
"I told you the truth and I kissed you; two things I haven't done for a girl in a long time."
"So you've kissed guys before?"
He pulled away quickly and found her eyes sparkling and full of mischief.
"You really are one of a kind," he muttered into her ear before he kissed her.
He is the owner of a top nightclub. She is a part-time dance teacher that is doing medicine in Uni. They found love.