A Silken Thread - Brenda Jackson [31]
She remembered the receptionist at the front desk had mentioned that Stockholm’s most popular restaurant/night club was in walking distance of the hotel. Maybe a night out on the town was what she needed. When was the last time she’d done such a thing? Probably last year when she and her best friend, Lori Spencer, had gone out for Lori’s fiftieth birthday. She hoped there wouldn’t be nude men dancing in front of her face tonight.
She smiled when she thought of Lori. Her best friend topped the list of those who felt she was wasting a lot of her years not having a man in her life. Of course that would be a natural assumption for Lori to make, since she seemed to breathe men. Divorced by choice, Lori thought men were put here for women to enjoy. But Rita knew that, even as open and brazen as Lori was, she’d never become involved with a married man.
But then, Rita wasn’t talking about an involvement with Wilson. Things would never go that far. She was having issues with the fact that she was attracted to him in the first place—something she knew Lori would say was normal. Maybe Lori would be right. The attraction was harmless. In fact, when they saw each other again, which probably wouldn’t be until the actual wedding, whatever vibes they’d felt earlier would probably be out of their systems. Gone and forever forgotten. She certainly hoped so. Otherwise, seeing him again could prove to be an uncomfortable situation.
A short while later, after she had showered and dressed, she checked herself in the mirror. She didn’t look bad for a woman her age.
She grabbed her purse and headed out. The night was young and alive and she intended to enjoy it.
“What are we having tonight, sir?”
“Let’s start with scotch on the rocks. You can bring a menu later.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wilson leaned back in his chair while watching members of the band he assumed would be performing for the evening set up their musical equipment onstage. He then glanced around at the club from his table in the back where the lights were dimmed.
This club had come recommended by the staff at the hotel where he was staying. After dealing with business all week, he needed to unwind and thought coming here would do the trick. Besides, he needed a drink.
It didn’t take long for the waiter to return with Wilson’s scotch. He wasted no time taking a swallow of it.
He needed the night alone and the drink to think about what had happened earlier with Rita. She had done the right thing in not accepting his invitation to dinner. Although he’d meant it sincerely, they both knew there was more between them than either of them wanted. It wasn’t a good situation for either of them to be caught up in. They were adults, and expectedly, a lot wiser. Smart enough to ward off any circumstances that could lead to a mistake.
Rita was a beautiful woman, and as a man who could not only recognize beauty but appreciate it as well, he couldn’t help finding her desirable. His being married had nothing to do with it. Beautiful women attracted normal men.
But in his case there was more to it than that. Sometimes he wondered just how “normal” he was. He’d been married for thirty years yet he hadn’t made love to his wife in over twenty. She had turned him down each and every time he had made an attempt. He’d tried to romance her, entice her with getaways, and every time she had flatly refused him, saying she didn’t need sex in her life.
He knew his wife was too selfish to care about the possibility that he did need sex and might go where he could to find it. But he had never given betraying her that way any thought, although he’d had had several opportunities to do so.
Last year his younger brother Marshall had asked him how long he would remain in a loveless marriage. Unlike