The Bed You Make
Chapter 30
~ When I move, you move ~
As soon as Stefan opened the door, the hotel staff quietly moved in and began to clear away the dinner plates. Dara waited until they were through to approach her husband. “Stefan, would it be too short notice for your security staff if I were to go out tonight?” She showed him a page from the entertainment section of a week-old copy of the New York Times. “There's a jazz club that opened a couple of months ago. It's gotten a bit of good press. I'd kind of like to check it out.”
Stefan briefly perused the glossy article. “I see no reason why we cannot. I will see to the arrangements.”
Dara hesitated. “I didn't mean that you had to accompany me. I know you have details you need to finalize before we leave tomorrow.”
“Would you prefer I not accompany you?”
“No!” Dara realized her answer was the truth. Stefan could be an enjoyable companion when he wasn't being insufferably arrogant. “I just don't want to upset your schedule.”
“The details of our departure are all in place.”
“All right, then. I'd be glad for your company,” Dara nodded. “I'll just go freshen up.”
Stefan was already reaching for his phone when Dara turned away. Through the open bathroom door she could hear him speaking with his assistant, David. David was the grandson of the longtime Cassadine butler, Alfred. Alfred had been disappointed that his only grandson hadn't chosen to follow in their family's tradition of personal service. He could not be convinced that David was still in service to the Cassadines, merely service of a different sort.
“Is there a problem?” Dara came out of the bathroom brushing her hair. She hoped there wasn't. She was looking forward to the evening. She hadn't realized just how much she missed hearing young talent test their wings in front of generally supportive crowds.
“The establishment you wished to visit has no available accommodations,” Stefan explained. “Do you wish to go nonetheless?”
Dara shook her head. “No. It's not worth buying the club or whatever you had planned to get us in the door,” she teased. “Besides, there are other jazz clubs I know about not too far from here. I used to visit them back before I joined the District Attorney's office.”
“Very well.” Stefan handed Dara his cell phone. “If you will tell David the names of these places, he can begin coordinating the security for our visit there.”
With a growing sense of enthusiasm, Dara complied. She rattled off the names of several jazz clubs that had become favorite haunts when she visited the city. “My preference?” she echoed David's query. “My first choice would be the Hole in the Wall. They don't disappoint.”
Dara ended her conversation and returned Stefan's phone to him. “Have you ever been to a real jazz club?”
“I have never frequented the type of establishment that would designate itself the Hole in the Wall,” Stefan replied, drolly.
“Well,” Dara laughed, “despite the name, I think you are going to enjoy yourself.”
Stefan gave a slight tilt of his head. “We shall see.”
