Carlos turns to me, brown eyes widening, and believe me, I get it. “Whoa, what a fancy dress.” He tugs at the collar of his navy button down and shifts in his loafers. “I’m suddenly feeling underdressed.”
“You are,” Grandma Helen says, giving his distressed jeans a pointed glance, and I don’t know what to say besidesI’m sorry my grandmas are so overbearing. Since I can’t say that until we’re out the door, I tow him outside, cutting their interrogation tactics short.
Light fractals out from my dress as he helps me into the passenger seat of a sleek sports car that sits low to the ground, turning the interior into a discotheque. And in the handful of seconds it takes Carlos to round the elongated hood, I do my best to accept that my fate and Rita’s flaming red spectacle of a dress are now inextricably intertwined.
Step one of living out her regrets is complete.
Next up—God help me—dirty dancing.
Chapter Eleven
Whether it’s the chat with the grannies who’ve thrust this date upon us, my blinding outfit, or the false lashes Rita applied coming loose on one side, Dr. Dimples doesn’t say much on the drive.
He doesn’t wait in lines, either, simply greases the bouncer’s palm on the way in, which I have to admit ups his hotness factor—there’s just something about a man who takes charge.
I don’t realize I was holding out hope until I’ve visually confirmed everyone else is wearing modern club gear, not like they’re about to compete onDancing with the Stars. Although several hemlines land at a similar length, from dresses to hotpants, and a few even rival mine in shimmer, which also helps me feel less self-conscious.
Flashiness abounds, clubgoers not paying much attention to anyone besides the person or people they’re pressed up against, and Tia Rita should’ve joined us because the dancing is absolutelyfilthy.
Sweaty bodies gyrate to the inescapable beat—it vibrates through my bones and coaxes my heart to beat along with the rhythm. My hips sway, my breaths quicken, and I stare in awe at the display of no inhibitions.
Sensual and raw, no one is thinking about reports or occupancy rates or anything besides the hypnotic pulse of the music. I’m supercharged just from watching, my skin already buzzing, and a tingle races up my spine as Carlos presses his hand to the small of my back and lingers.
Every ounce of my blood races there, and fine, I admit it—Rita might’ve been on to something. I don’t remember the last time my body hummed like this, the frantic beats of my heart from exhilaration rather than distress.
Applying gentle pressure, the doctor leads me toward the long, stainless-steel counter. He snags a pair of high-top stools and lifts a hand in the air, signaling the nearest bartender.
“Drinks, yes,” I say, abandoning my useless attempts to sit without exposing more thigh and hooking my heel on the bottom rung of the stool. “This is an excellent place to start.”
“Glad you agree.” That delectable dimple pops in his cheek, and a bartender with neon green hair and a septum ring takes our order.
Once we’re left to ourselves, my nerves do jumping jacks in my gut, and how do I do this whole dating thing again? “So…”
Great start, Mia. Why don’t you throw out a “Do you come here often?” and call it a day.
“So,” Carlos says with a mischievous grin, propping his elbow on the bar to create a more intimate bubble.
“Okay, let’s start with the obvious…” I go to twirl my hair, but that hairspray Wanda used is bulletproof, so I switch to fiddling with a cardboard coaster instead. “My grandmas asked you out on my behalf, and they also told you when and where to take me out on this date.”
“They were very insistent,” he says, clearly enjoying this joke at my expense, and my cheeks flame. “As I told Ms. Ramirez when she cornered me, my mom made me take dancing lessons from the time I was young. Salsa, Bachata, Cumbia—I was the outnumbered boy in a family full of bossy women, which meant I didn’t get to sit out a single song. Not until I’d danced with my mom, aunts, and cousins, not to mention whatever other neighbor or relative my mom pointed my way.”
I grin, going slightly melty inside. “That’s very sweet.”
“Nah, it was ninety percent fear and obligation.” He says it lightly, not a hint of fear in his features. “It wasn’t until college, when women found out I could twirl them around the dance floor, that I learned to appreciate what I’d been taught.”
Our drinks arrive, and Carlos thanks our bartender—something I watch for on dates—and passes my mojito to me.
He wraps long fingers around his whiskey glass and pivots toward me, his knee knocking lightly into mine. “Now that I’m an adult, I have a strict rule: no dancing until I’ve had alcohol.”
“That’s a rule I’ll happily toast.” We clink glasses and sip, and I figure now’s as good a time as any to address my outfit. “Speaking of Rita and how persistent she can be, this dress is from her glory days, back when she used to perform competitively. She always wished she’d gone to a salsa club to do some dir—dancing,” I correct my slip halfway through, even though my grannies were less than subtle when we left for our date. “But her fiancé was a possessive asshole and forbade it, so all these years later, she’s decided I need to experience the carefree night of salsa dancing she missed out on in her twenties.
“When I agreed, I never dreamed she’d insist on this.” I lift a few beaded tassels, mesmerized by the glittery cascade as it falls to my thighs.
The fingertips of his free hand graze my knee, and I’m feeling that same breathlessness I experienced while watching the sea of gyrating bodies get lost in the beat. “That’s very sweet,” he says, parroting back what I told him earlier with an extra charming grin.
I bite my drink straw, my heart going pitter-patter. “I guess you could say I also have a family of bossy women.”
Carlos gives a low laugh that leaves me slightly dizzy. “Hey, these old folks are tougher than ever, especially all grouped together like they are in Lakeview. They’re challenging, and every day is different, and I love that they keep me on my toes. But sometimes I want to tell them to stop being so damn stubborn—to just listen to my medical advice and let me help them.”
