Gwyneth gave her a thumbs-up, and Adele grinned like this was the best birthday present she'd gotten.
Hopefully, her friends hadn't conspired with Mr. Good-looking, arranging for him to ask Mattie to dance to boost her confidence. It had been a long time since she'd gone on a date, but she wasn't as desperate as that. She would never forgive them if they had talked him into asking her.
The music was pulsing and rhythmic, easy enough to move to without requiring any real skill, and Mattie just swayed in place and tried not to think about how her left leg sometimes spasmed without warning. The guy, on the other hand, was a surprisingly good dancer despite what he'd told her, moving like someone who had danced all his life.
"You lied about being bad at this," she accused. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"
"Nightclubs mostly. I just watched and emulated other people." He smiled and pulled her a little closer. "What do I call you other than beautiful?" His voice had dropped at least half an octave on the question.
Mattie felt her cheeks heat up. "Matilda. Mattie to my friends."
Challenge shone in his eyes. "Can I call you Mattie?"
He wasn't her friend, and she would probably never see him again after tonight, but it would be rude to insist that he call her Matilda.
"Sure," she said instead.
"Does that make me your friend?" he asked.
"It sure does."
What else could she have said?
"I'm Gabriel," he told her, but the name came out slightly stilted, as if he had to think about it for a fraction of a second before saying it. As if it didn't quite fit in his mouth.
Perhaps it wasn't his real name, and he was using a fake one because he was married and didn't want to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar?
Not that it mattered.
It was just one dance, and she would probably never see him again.
"Gabriel, like the angel?" she teased, expecting him to say something about being no angel and acting all sexy and seductive.
"Precisely. What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink? I can tell you all about my angelic attributes."
She should say no, but he was asking so politely, and he was so handsome, and what was the harm in one drink?
"It would be my pleasure," she said with the same politeness he'd used.
His smile was so bright it could have illuminated the entire dance floor. "That's great." He guided her through the crowd with his hand on the small of her back.
There were no vacant seats at the bar, and Mattie winced, expecting to stand, but then Gabriel glared at two guys, and the pair shot up as if he had tasered them. They had been bothering no one, just sitting there and nursing their beers, and something about the interaction made her uneasy.
Still, when he pulled out a stool for her, she was grateful for being able to sit.
"What can I get for you, beautiful?" he asked.
"Whiskey sour," she said automatically.
The glass she'd left behind was still more than half full, and she should have declined the offer and gone back to her table, but that would have hurt his feelings, and she didn't want to do that even if something about him made her uncomfortable.
He ordered what she'd asked for and a neat shot for himself.
Straddling the stool next to her, he turned to face her with that magazine-cover smile. "Where are you from, Mattie?"
"I'm originally from Perth, but now I live here."
"Do you have family in Perth?"
