I did just that—right as his mouth pressed against mine.
Misdirection.
It was completely unexpected, and I kissed him back without thinking. His lips were soft and warm. He was still palming the deck of cards, and they were now pressing against the back of my neck. Pleasure flooded my limbs. Then he was pulling away, and when my hands left the mooring of his chest, I wobbled, cheeks hot, dizzy with the surprise of it all.
“We forgot to do that last night,” he said in a gravelly voice.
All I could do was make a noise to answer him, but it sounded more like a whimper than an acknowledgment. “That was a mean trick. How am I supposed to work now?”
“Never trust a magician, Birdie,” he said, smiling with his eyes. He dumped the deck of cards in a trash can behind the registration desk as he glanced over his shoulder. One of the businessmen sitting in the lobby was getting up and headed this way.
“See you after work,” Daniel whispered. “Pie for breakfast. One positive about fighting with my mom is that she can’t complain about when I come home.”
I watched Daniel stride across the lobby, heat still thrumming through me, toes curling inside my shoes. These were not feelings I should be feeling in public.
The businessman approached the desk and asked me for a pen. I dropped it twice, right as Chuck was coming out of the back offices. “Dopey strikes again,” he mumbled as he passed. “Wake up. It’s going to be a long night.”
Pasting on a smile for the guest, I waited until everyone was gone, and then quickly squatted in front of the trash can and fished out the cards Daniel had dumped. Every single one said the same thing:LOOK UP.
This was not how friends were supposed to act.
I imagined him marking all the cards, perhaps sitting on that old green couch, and wondered how long it had taken. Then I thought of him and Cherry not speaking, and it felt like my fault. If Daniel and I were going to be friends, I didn’t want her hating me. He shouldn’t have to choose me over his own mother.
What are you doing with my son?
Maybe I had a better answer for her now.
Maybe I needed to fix the problem I’d caused.
•••
The next afternoon I took an early ferry into the city and hopped on a bus that stopped a bit beyond the International District. I’d never been out this way, and it took some time for me to get my bearings. But when I spotted the black-and-red single-story building across the street, I recognized it from its online photos. Salsa Dance Studio.
Nothing of note happened between me and Daniel after our shift last night. The Moonlight was surprisingly packed, and our normal booth was taken, so we ended up sitting at the counter, and that wasn’t the ideal spot for intimate conversation. I didn’t mind all that much. I was just glad to sit next to him and feel his shoulder against mine. We shared a slice of the Pie of the Day:LIVIN’ ON A PEAR, featuring spiced Anjou pears under an angelic cloud of streusel topping. It was so spectacular, I wasn’t even depressed when we talked about the Raymond Darke case and how neither of us could figure out any new angles to pursue. It was just one of a dozen things that wasn’t going smoothly this week. The only thing thatwasokay—miraculously—was my relationship with Daniel.
And I needed to make sure it stayed that way. Which was why I was doing this right now as I fought down the overwhelming urge to turn on my heel and run in the opposite direction.
She’s only an overprotective mama bear. You can do this.
As traffic sped by on Jackson, I warily entered the dance studio. An unoccupied reception area divided the entrance from a warehouse-like dance space. Polished wooden floors and brick walls surrounded a handful of sweaty people who were laughing as they headed toward the doors in a herd, probably after they’d finished their bachata dance lesson—that’s what had just ended. The studio’s dance classes were listed online, as well as the instructors; Cherry Aoki was easy to find.
And easy to spot, striding across the dance floor in loose, dandelion-yellow dance pants and a sleeveless T-shirt that readSHAKE IT!But when she spotted me in return, my mouth went dry, and I almost lost my nerve. What if this was a huge, GD mistake?
I could tell she thought I was some schlub off the street, wanting to sign up for dance classes, or maybe a one-on-one instruction to prepare me for a prom or a wedding. The moment she recognized me, I knew it, because her high ponytail stopped swinging.
“Birdie? Is something wrong with Daniel?”
Too late to run now.
“No, not at all! I’m sorry. I looked you up online. Daniel doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Oh, thank God. Whew!” she said, holding her hand over her heart. Then her eyes narrowed. “Whyareyou here?”
“I just... wanted to talk. If you’re busy—”
“I’ve got a few minutes before my next class.” She gestured toward a corner of the dance floor. “Over here.”
I followed her to a waiting area with a couch and two chairs. She took a seat, wiping her cheek on a towel around her neck. “What’s on your mind?” She wasn’t cordial, but she wasn’t icy cold, either, and that made it easier for me to talk.
