1
Emily Grayden weaved her way through the crowded salsa club, following her best friend, Gabby, a loose grip on her hand, the lights turned down low as the band moved into their next song.
The drums set the lively beat while the smooth, vibrant tones coming from the trumpet player had the dance floor packed as the handsome lead singer sashayed up to the microphone, his black shirt half open as his powerful voice filled the club.
“We’re not in Seattle anymore,” Gabby said over the music, flashing her a smile as she looked back at Emily with her blond bangs falling across her eyes.
“No. We’re not.” Emily knew Gabby wouldn’t have heard her over the music as they moved through the couples on the dance floor in search of the bar, both of them tired and in need of a drink after just two songs. The aroma of perfume and cologne mixed with sweat filled Emily’s nose as she avoided the dancing couples all around her.
When they’d planned this trip to Miami a year ago, Emily had still been married to her wife of almost five years, and Gabby had only just suggested that they join a salsa dance class. How much things could change in a year.
They finally made it to the bar, and Gabby ordered two gin and tonics. Emily surveyed the club, and the number of talented dancers enjoying themselves, moving so effortlessly to the music. It was a little surreal being here, in Miami, at a real salsa club. In Seattle, they’d gone to a dance studio with mirrored walls and florescent lights that were far too bright.
Emily’s shoulder brushed against Gabby’s as they both stood with their backs to the bar, drinks in hand. “Is this living up to your expectations?” Emily asked over the music.
Gabby’s smile was infectious. “Far exceeding them. And even though we’re not at their level yet,” she said, motioning towards the couple just a few feet away from them, putting on a show, moving seamlessly together, “We have made some significant progress.”
“Hey, I’m just happy that I didn’t fall.”
Gabby hit her arm. “You were never going to fall. And you’re a natural. From the second lesson, I knew I didn’t have to worry about you quitting on me. You had that rhythm that took the rest of us weeks to find. When someone asks you to dance tonight, promise me you’ll go. Don’t worry about me.”
Emily laughed. “No one’s going to ask me to dance.”
“We’ll see about that,” Gabby said with a grin before she took a sip of her drink.
“How did you figure out how to do the man’s part like that when you’ve spent months learning the woman’s part?”
While Emily would have preferred dancing with a woman, she knew when she signed up to take the class that she would more than likely be dancing with men, and she had. Almost everyone else had come to the studio as a couple, but there were two single guys who they ended up alternating with each week.
Gabby shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing when we got out there, but I just got lost in the music and tried to remember what my partner did.”
“Well, that was impressive.”
“Thank you,” Gabby said with a warm smile as she looked around the room. “Yeah. Definitely not the only gays in the village. See those women dancing together? And they look like they’re really into it. Nothing like how we were dancing.”
Emily sucked in a breath. She had noticed the pride flags outside the club, and as much as Gabby wanted her to meet someone, Emily was still reluctant to get involved with anyone, even if it had been almost a year since her ex-wife had asked for a divorce.
“And the same goes for you too,” Emily said, noticing a guy on the other end of the bar looking in their direction. He was probably about their age, in his early to mid-thirties, and he would definitely catch Gabby’s eye with his dark hair and muscular build. “When someone asks you to dance, don’t worry about me, okay?”
Gabby opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, that guy was on his way over, his eyes locked on Gabby.
Emily gave her an encouraging smile when he did ask her to dance, and then she was on her own with her thoughts. Even though Gabby wasn’t particularly interested in either of the two men they’d danced with in Seattle, Emily she knew was hoping to meet someone at a club like this. She was tired of online dating, dozens of dates with men and women never leading to anything more than a potential new friend.
Emily distracted herself by ordering another drink, knowing that this one would nearly be gone by the time she caught someone’s attention behind the bar.
Coming to Miami would be good for her. That’s what Emily kept telling herself, especially these last few weeks, when she’d booked a one-way ticket while Gabby bought a return.
Emily needed a change of scenery. The two hundred and fifty days of sunshine were just a bonus. She had to leave, because while it had seemed like such a perk when they were married, teaching at the same college now that they were divorced was an unnecessary challenge.
Moving on with her life was the challenge that Emily was focused on. It still surprised her that all she’d needed were three or four months to get back to feeling like herself, to figure out how to navigate the world as a single woman again, something she hadn’t done in almost seven years. But she was getting there.
It was strange though. Thirty-six felt too old for a fresh start. She’d had an apartment she loved and a secure teaching job that she was good at. But, at the same time, thirty-six felt too young to be divorced. Not that she was regretting that decision. It just didn’t fit with the vision she’d had for her life.
Emily Grayden. Single. Divorced.
She’d yet to step out of her comfort zone in Seattle, so she hadn’t actually said either of those words out loud. That she was single. That she was divorced. But it was going to happen soon, and she had to start getting used to her new reality.
Moving more than three-thousand miles away from home seemed like the easiest way to do that. Within just a few months of splitting with her ex-wife, Melissa, she could already feel her friends slipping away, and that was the problem when her friends were mostly lecturers. They’d said they wouldn’t pick sides, but it seemed inevitable. And Melissa, being her charismatic self, naturally kept most of their friends.
