"From the gentleman at table four." the waiter said.
Danny sipped at the drink, and glanced around the club. He tried not to grimace noticeably at the fruity cocktail's overpowering sweetness. A distinguished looking man in expensive but subdued garb nodded at him and smiled. Danny felt himself smiling back before he looked away.
After the singer's next set was over, the waiter returned.
"The gentleman at table four wondered if you would honor him with a dance."
"Yes, certainly," Danny said impulsively. His heart raced even faster. "Please ask him to join me."
The gentleman in question proved to be about 45, graying at the temples, and with an athletic build. His name was Armand de la Courte, he told Danny.
"Mine's Amanda," Danny replied.
The rest of the evening was passed either in Armand's muscular arms or at his table gazing into his deep blue eyes.
It was clear that Armand was quite enchanted with Danny, and also that he found something mysterious or intriguing about him he couldn't place.
Danny had immediately regretted the spur-of-the-moment acceptance of the stranger's invitation. He allowed himself to be led out onto the dance floor that first time intending to make his departure as soon as it was completed. Once it became clear that even at close range his deception was succeeding, Danny discovered comfort ant a pleasant securint in the handsome man's gentle but powerful grip. He was conscious, too, of the midnight curfew approaching and told Armand firmly he soule make his own way home by taxi, thak you very much.