Sweep Me Off My Feet

She handed Angela a cocktail.

“We are going to have these and I just ordered some hot wings. So we are set.” Candy frowned. “Or should we maybe start the night with shots?”

Angela took a long sip of her drink.

“No shots. Cocktails and wings are fine,” she said quickly.

The last thing she needed was the hangover that came with shots. It might have been a long time since she went out, but she still remembered what kind of damage shots did to her.

As the night went on, Angela loosened a little more. It might have been because of how many cocktails she’d had or perhaps it was that being there with Candy made her forget every care she had, but she was finally having fun, and a lot of it. She had not realized just how much she had missed dancing until she actually got on the floor,

She sipped on what felt like her hundredth cocktail and looked around wondering if she still had the strength or sobriety to get back to the floor. She hardly had enough time to process her thoughts when Candy rushed to where she was.

“So, those guys just told me that they will get us a bottle of Cîroc if we go dance with them,” she said, and Angela looked at the direction Candy was pointing at.

“I would much rather dance with them,” she said as she looked at a tall, muscular Caucasian man in a dark suit. He looked like he was there for a business meeting or something and she could not help but wonder why a man of his caliber was not in the VIP section. Candy was still talking, but Angela was no longer listening. She walked to the guy and took his hand.

“Dance with me,” she whispered in his ear.

“This night is getting so much better,” the man said as he followed her to the dance floor.

She held the back of his neck and began dancing for him. The man was just looking at her, marveling at her s*x appeal. She turned around and leaned against his body. She was grinding on him, twerking on a stranger, and the best thing was that for once, she had actually chosen a gentleman because he was not fondling her as they danced. Instead, he was just holding her waist, dying for the chance to move his hands higher to her bre*sts or lower to her well-rounded hips.

Candy and Angela were at the club until it closed down.

“When was the last time we partied until last call?” Candy asked as they waited for their Uber.

“A long, long time ago,” Angela said, laughing. “Back when I had more tolerance for alcohol… seriously, I feel like I have just had thirty bottles,” she added as their Uber approached.

“Come on, drunk Sally,” Candy said as they got into the car. “I still have a hard time understanding how you can make such perfect sentences while you cannot even walk two steps without tipping over.”

“That’s what I do. I drink and talk and stagger,” Angela said, giggling. She reached for her phone as the car pulled out into the road. “What the fu*k…how did it get so late? I have to be at work in four hours!”

“Don’t worry, I can crash at your place and watch Brandon tomorrow. No problemo!”

“You are a sweetie!” Angela flung herself at Candy to give her a sloppy hug.

“Yeah… yeah… just as long as you give me the details of you and the hot white guy you traded my Cîroc for,” Candy said as Angela leaned on her shoulder.

“What happens in Rehab, stays in Rehab, Miss Thing,” she said without opening her eyes, making Candy smile.

“Yeah, we will see about that, darling.”