“Still in some pain but getting a little more independent. Luckily, it wasn’t his dominant hand, but I’ve had to go by and help him all this week. Frankly, I think he’s milking it at this point,” I said with an eye roll that made her laugh.
The elevator door opened, and we both walked out. “Where are you parked?” I asked.
Pointing to the front parking spot, she said, “Just there. Perks of being the CEO. No need to walk me to my car. You can see me from here.”
“I don’t mind. Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” Mike had challenged me to ask her out again since our last “date” had been interrupted. He reminded me if I wanted to win her over, I needed to step up.
Recently, I realized I no longer felt rushed to answer her questions, which led me to believe she was deliberately giving me space. It was refreshing.
“Since we didn’t get to finish dinner, I thought we could try again. Maybe something different this time. I still need your help overcoming my shyness in some areas.” I shifted on my feet as I waited for her answer.
“I’d love that. Sunday, I’m going to church with Vicky and Miles. Not sure about afterward, but I’m free on Saturday night,” she said, smiling.
“I’m glad to hear you’re joining them at church. And yes, Saturday is great. We can grab a less formal dinner, and then I was thinking we could maybe go dancing.”
Shock registered on her face as her eyes widened and her mouth opened. It was exactly what I was going for. Defne suggested I take her dancing, saying women usually loved the idea. My backup plan was a dance class if she said she didn’t know how.
“Wow, I wasn’t prepared for that,” she said with a chuckle. “Nikolas Demir dancing? Who knew?”
“Well, my mom was a dance instructor at one time, so Defne and I were forced to learn when we were young. I haven’t been dancing in years, but I thought you might enjoy it.”
“Neither have I. But I’m in!” She started walking backward toward her car. “You keep surprising me. I like it.” She spun back around, and I watched her get in, wave, and pull away.
Releasing a breath I’d been holding, I rubbed the back of my neck and prayed I wasn’t making a big mistake. Shock and awe, Mike had said. I hoped this was what he meant.
My mom was thrilledat the idea of her and Dad giving me a refresher course in some dance moves when I video-called themFriday night. Surprisingly, she didn’t press for details, but as always when it came to her, she had a knowing smile the whole time. It was so good to see them happy and laughing as they danced around their living room.
He had her blushing as he spun her around and dipped her dramatically. I could only dream of having a marriage like theirs. Even through the lean years growing up, their mutual love and respect had seen them through.
When I spoke with Leyla a few days earlier, I told her we could eat dinner at a food truck event in Balboa Park before heading to the venue for dancing, which she seemed excited about.
I chose a dark-wash jean paired with a forest-green Henley that reminded me of her eyes. Throwing on my light leather jacket, I headed to Leyla’s, excited but nervous about the evening. As I drove, a battle raged in my head over whether to come clean and tell her there was no Pam and thatshewas the one I was interested in.
When I got to her front door, I took a deep breath in and out. I knocked and backed away.
I could hear her talking over the sound of her footsteps when she opened it, her phone to her ear.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Sorry, let me get off the call. Come in.”
Her house matched her personality, I thought, following her into the living room. Understated elegance with a touch of fun.
A tan sofa anchored the space, its clean lines offset by throw pillows in muted patterns, one embroidered with a quiet, almost playful detail you noticed only after a second glance. A vintage, wooden coffee table held several novels and a ceramic bowl glazed in an uneven, hand-thrown blue, the kind of piece chosen because it made her smile.
Her heels clicked on the wooden floors as she made her way back to me. “Sorry about that. Sofia was on a roll.”
“That’s fine. Oh, these are for you.” I handed her the bouquet of bright-orange lilies, making her smile widely.
“You’re spoiling me,” she said, bringing them to her face. “They’re beautiful.”
She stilled when I reached my hand up to her cheek and gently wiped away a bit of gold-colored pollen.
“You had something there.” Her eyes blinked as I continued wiping, the flowery dust long gone.
“Thank you,” she said through a puff of breath.
Right there. I should’ve told her right then and there how I felt. Maybe I was afraid of rejection and selfishly wanted to keep up this ruse for a bit longer.
I pulled my hand away with a nod.
