Vivi pulls me, a little dazed, back toward the main courtyard where we watch the dance floor for a minute or two. The DJ has switched to playing pop hits, and a few couples are attempting a corporate version of getting down to the beat. I love dancing, but I am always amazed by people who can do it at work events like this. It’s like dancing at a wedding where everyone on the guest list has the power to fire you.
Brant catches my gaze and tips a glass toward me, and I only then wonder if I’ve already gotten in trouble in terms of that committee assignment and his questions about not dating anyone in the company. Should I not have said yes to Ollie?
Well, it’s certainly not anything serious, if Ollie and I can barely manage to speak to each other. I figure that I will give Ollie and me a date or two and find out if it’s even a real issue before I come clean to my manager.
“Let’s get you a drink,” Vivi says.
“I could use a ginger ale.”
“We’ll get in the line with the server who looks like a hot Viking.”
“As a former bartender, I want to remind you that you are not allowed to flirt with servers at work, young lady.”
Vivi grins. “I would never. I have a strict ogling-only policy.”
We get into one of the long double-lines for drinks. I notice that Brant has insinuated himself into a group of people from the legal department and looks like he is telling another one of his cynical jokes.
“You okay?” Vivi asks, leaning toward me.
“Yeah, it’s just… I don’t know.” I shake my head. I think of Nick, back home on my sofa, and how much easier it would be to crawl into his arms and forget about dating, even if I knew he’d be disappearing again within a few days.
“You don’t know about what?”
“Dating, or…” I keep thinking about staring into Ollie’s eyes. How handsome he was and how it felt like we had nothing to talk about. He was a stranger to me. A warm, kind stranger. When I met Nick, it felt like we understood each other instantly, but that may just have been because we were on a dance floor and I knew I wanted to have sex with him, and then ten minutes later we were backstage in a tiny club doing exactly that.
“So you had no chemistry with Ollie?” she asks.
That isn’t exactly it, I think. I’m just worried that the chemistry was entirely one-sided and he was just being polite.
“Well, maybe it’s what I need right now,” I say, trying to sound flip. “I mean, I had tons of chemistry with Nick, so maybe I need a boring, safe tax attorney who I will have literally nothing to talk to about with.”
I’m mostly kidding, but Vivi winces, and I know—even before I turn around—that she has spotted Ollie near us. Sure enough, I turn to see Mr. Tax Attorney standing not three feet away in the other line. His gaze meets mine, his expression flashing with something like hurt, then blankness. My eyes close for a second, trying to block out what I’ve just done, and then I open them and force myself to step toward him.
“I’m sorry,” I begin.
“It’s okay.” He shrugs, his mouth twisted slightly into an unreadable line. “Not a problem.”
He nods once more, then turns and walks out of the line to get away from me. When I glance back at Vivi, her expression mirrors mine.
“I don’t think he’s calling me.”
“No,” she agrees. “Probably not.”
Something inside my chest twinges. Apparently, my obsession with Nick is still managing to mess me up. When a nice guy shows interest, I immediately find a way to ruin it.
What am I doing? After a moment, I smile apologetically at Vivi and then step out of the line to go find Ollie. It feels like there’s more to say. I can’t have had a secret crush on this guy for two years, just to have things end so quickly, especially when I didn’t even mean what I said. I was just trying to prepare myself for when he didn’t call, or disappeared, or ended up wanting someone younger.
When I spot him, he is on the dance floor, dancing with a woman who I’m pretty sure is Katy, the attorney that Vivi is friends with, the one who used to go to college with Ollie’s wife. I’ve seen Ollie and Katy chatting on the elevator once or twice, and she is very pretty, but that’s not the part that makes my heart sink.
It turns out that Ollie is a very good dancer. Ridiculously good. He is dipping her and spinning her around in what looks like a polished routine, but I know that it can’t be. It’s not like he would have made a special request to the DJ to play this 1990s R & B song, and he definitely couldn’t have choreographed this ahead of time. He just knows how to dance, and I don’t mean that he can move well. I mean he moves like a professional dancer. And on top of that, there’s a chivalry to his dancing, a willingness to let his partner shine.
I feel the sharp regret that comes from a realization made too late. Ollie is sexy. Extremely so. Katy isn’t as good a dancer as he is, but he’s guiding her through steps smoothly, pulling her close and then back again, landing her after every spin or turn.
The song ends, and he whispers something to Katy and turns to go, just as Vivi leans toward me.
“What the hell was that?” Vivi hands me a ginger ale, her eyes on Ollie.
“West Coast Swing,” says a woman next to us. We both glance over at her. “He teaches it in the evenings. He used tobe a top-ten national competitor or something.” She shrugs. “He works in my department. We’re allobsessedwith him.”
