“I’m sorry, I don’t give away my inner thoughts.”
“Not even for me?” Her look turned coy.
“Not even for you.” I reached over with my spoon and took a small sample of her vanilla bean panna cotta. Cold and creamy. But just okay. I returned to my chocolate mousse mud cake, which Blaire had tried a moment ago and declared too sweet for her taste. I was happy to see Grace devouring her slice of chocolate mousse mud cake at a table three over from ours. She hadn’t looked my way once.
I waited until Henry and Grace were on the dance floor before I asked Blaire to dance. Her face lit up, which made me realize she’d maybe started to catch on to my disinterest, and I’d just renewed her hope.
The orchestra ensemble, which had been playing all through dinner, left halfway through dessert to make way for a band playing high-energy covers. I laughed at my dad’s attempt to keep up with Grace. He was no dancer, but it was clear they were having fun.
I took Blaire’s hand and led her out to the floor. Blaire gave me a sultry look and began dancing right up in my space with some swaying that would put the palm trees in Florida to shame. I lightly dodged before her elbow could connect with my ear. When she glanced back at me, I smiled, assuring her this was super fun and I was loving it. I put my bob to the beat on automatic and glanced back at Grace and Henry. As usual, Grace was completely oblivious to me or anyone else looking her way. My smile turned genuine, watching her bust a move as much as her mermaid-style dress would let her. No one could accuse her of elbow assault, because she commanded her space. During the final notes of the song, I leaned into Blaire so she could hear me.
“Wanna take a break?”
“No way. I’m having so much fun!”
Charlie passed by on his way off the dance floor and wiggled his eyebrows at me, having overheard. I reached out as if to grab him as my replacement, and he laughed and backed out of reach. “Have so much fun, you two! We need to catch up soon, Dean. I’m heading to meet up with Olivia. The idiot she was on a date with is currently giving ‘guitar lessons’ to a group of half-drunk women. So, she’s out.”
“Take care of her.”
“Always. You take good care of Blaire, you lucky man.”
Blaire giggled and gave me a side hug.
I glared at his retreating smug face, making him that much more pleased with himself.
A new song started up with an electronica vibe, and Blaire and I danced to that, and then the lead singer announced it was time to slow things down. The band started up the introductory notes of Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight,” and Blaire smiled and put her arms around my neck, pressing her body flush against mine. I let out a resigned sigh and lightly put my hands to her back. This time, when I looked across the dance floor, I met Grace’s grumpy gaze. She’d picked the perfect moment to finally notice me.
I planned for everything, and I prided myself on being able to pivot at a moment’s notice. But I was at a loss for what to do. Short of prying Blaire’s hands off of me, I was stuck, held hostage in the arms of my date. My head hurt, my tuxedo felt tight, Blaire’s hands cradling the back of my neck felt even tighter, and her leg was pressed against me like this slow dance was a tango. Not to mention, her perfume was burning my eyes.
Grace’s lowered eyebrows seemed to be asking me why I had the audacity to keep staring straight at her while holding another woman against my chest, and I mouthed, “Help me.”
“What?” she mouthed back.
“Help me.”
She looked even more confused, and then she shook her head and focused on Henry, who, from the looks of it, had never stopped talking.
“Blaire, I’m not feeling well.”
“What?” she asked.
I repeated myself, and then took a step back, accidentally dragging her with me, because she hadn’t let go of my neck. I steadied her before she tumbled into me, and for the first time that night, she looked irritated.
“What’s the matter?”
“My stomach.” I was such a coward. But I was not about to tell her that she was the leading cause of claustrophobia in men, so I turned and headed off the dance floor and straight out into the foyer where a helpful attendant pointed me in the direction of the restrooms.
I took my time getting air, even stopping at the auction tables and putting my name down for four floor-level tickets to a Sun’s game. When I headed back in, Blaire was dancing with someone else, and Henry and Grace were nowhere in sight.
I pulled out my phone, which I’d kept on silent. Dad had sent me a text.Grace was ready to go. Good luck with your date.
Awesome.
I went to sit with Mom and sipped on my ice water.
“Is your stomach feeling better?” Mom asked dryly. “I haven’t heard you use that excuse since the third grade.”
“I’m sorry.”
