I’m sure I was blushing profusely by now from the embarrassment. And why was I talking to her like she was my boss or something? I didn’t even know her.

“Why don’t I walk him back there instead. I’d like to ah…” She paused and looked me over once more. “Talk, with him in a more quiet setting. Would you like that, dear heart?”

“Yes, please.” I don’t know why I said that. I guess it just felt right at the time. I grabbed my guitar and followed her around the bar towards a door, watching the gentle sway of her hips as she walked. I’ve never felt more like a puppy on a leash, to be honest, but she seemed so pleased with it that it was just too hard for me to be angry about it.