At first I didn’t think much of it, since he’d invited other coworkers in the past. But I never could have predicted what happened next.

On Friday night, I pulled on a little black dress and my sexiest tall black boots— the shoes that became my secret weapon during my single era— and picked up my friend on the way to the club. I was ready to meet someone new and do something I’d probably regret. At least I accomplished one of those things.

Our first mistake was getting to the club at the beginning of the night. When we walked in and we were the only two people on the dancefloor, we got so embarrassed that we left and decided to pregame. We got some tacos and a couple drinks, and as LA traffic would have it, we were back to the club an hour later. We walked back in to find a lively crowd and a new DJ at the booth. Oops. I’d missed my coworker’s entire set. Regardless, my friend and I were there to make a few mistakes, so we ordered some drinks and hit the dance floor while a few guys circled us like sharks. I just hoped they’d hide me from my coworker, because I was afraid he’d confront me about missing his set. But ten minutes later, he saw me.

He smiled at me from across the room and started making his way over. When he got to me, he asked how I’d liked his set and I lied and said it was “tight.” I was relieved he didn’t notice I’d gotten there late. But looking back, I don’t think he would’ve cared— he’d had different intentions all along. He bought my friend and I a drink, and gave me some of his Adios— basically a variation of Long Island. That’s when things got a little blurry. The music was bumping, the drinks were hitting, the moonlight was doing that thing that makes everything feel more exciting, and I had no excuse not to do something crazy. So when he sat on the couch and patted the seat for me to sit next to him, I scooted in a little closer than I should have.