Page 54 of Dancing in the Dark

If you loved me like I love you, you would’ve worked harder.

It’s so hard to love you, honey. I wish you could just be less… you.

“Sera?”

“Yeah.” I exhale a shuddering breath and drag my eyes open. Picking up my champagne flute, I tip a little back and wet my dry throat. “I was saying that since we’re not playing coy anymore, I wanted to let you know that bossy dad thing you do is sexy.”

“You—” He chokes on his words. “What?”

“When you walked in on Mia and me completely losing our shit the other day, and you went full Bossy Dad on us.” I set my glass down and take my time selecting another snack. “That was sexy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm.” I toss a mushroom stuffed with cheese and spices onto my tongue. “And now, being bossy about what I’m eating. Does things to my belly.”

He snorts. “You wanna call me Daddy?”

“Great. You ruined it.”

He barks out a loud laugh that, like his bossiness, does wonderful, magical, irritatingly scary things to my belly. “Fine, that was my bad. So, only an hour until you’re headed upstairs to your fancy suite with the fancy jet tub and the fancy room service breakfast?”

“Uh huh.” My legs are tired, and my feet ache, but the boning in my dress makes it impossible to bend or sit or do anything even remotely bordering on comfort. So all I do—all I can do—is flex my toes within the confines of my shoes and dream about the fluffy slippers I’ll soon step into. The luxurious robe. The scented soaps I always get a kick out of smelling.

“Seraphina?” The kitchen door swings open, then Anderson strides through carrying a lowball glass in his left hand, a single finger of dark liquid sloshing in the bottom. He searches the kitchen, dark eyes scanning from one end to the other, and though I kinda hope if I stay silent and don’t move a single inch, he might pass over me and leave again, it turns out I’m not nearly that lucky, because his eyes stop on me and his lips crook high into a grin. “Great! There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sera?” Long gone is the laughing, flirting Charlie Fletcher in my ear. “Who is that?”

“We need you out here, Sera.” Anderson crosses the shiny tile and extends his arm. “Break time is over.”

“Sera?”

“I guess my break time is over.” Sighing, I leave Anderson’s arm exactly where it is, not wrapped around mine, then turning on my heels, I snatch up my flute and drink the remains of bubbling champagne until I feel it in my stomach. Selecting one last stuffed mushroom, I pop it between my lips and make a point of circling Anderson. I don’t need you to escort me, you pompous poo bag. “I’ll text you later if… ya know…” Shy again, I push into the hall and pray my face doesn’t burn as red as it feels. “If you’re tired, I’ll leave you alone. But⁠—”

“Text me. Please.” I see him in my mind, sitting up on his couch and replacing languid laziness with an anxious hand running through his hair. “Who was that dude?”

“An irritating colleague. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah.” He exhales a tired grunt. “Okay. Talk to you soon.”

I end our call and walk with long-strided determination, flicking my clutch open and slipping my phone in, then, cutting right at the ladies’ room door, I head to the mirrors and apply a coat of fresh lipstick. I study my gown and consider taking a photo for Charlie.

But that’s not something I do.

Such a simple request by many. But I… shaking my head, I step away again and hate that I can’t do that for him without feeling like a complete idiot. Crossing the bathroom and moving into the hall, I startle at Anderson’s shadow shoving away from the wall.

“Sera?” He darts forward and falls into step beside me. Side-by-side. Shoulder-to-shoulder. “Who were you talking to on the phone?” He beats me to the ballroom door by a hair. Pulling it wide, he makes a show of being the chivalrous hero. “Sounded kinda flirty. Not the guy who stood you up, I hope.”

I clamp my lips shut and scan the room until I find Justin not so far from the piano. Pasting on my perfect PR smile, I cross to him and his guests. “Nǐ hǎo.” I meet Ambassador Zhao’s friendly expression and dip my chin. “If you gentlemen are ready to begin, I would be happy to announce you.”

20

FLETCH

For forty-five long minutes after my call with Sera ended, I stare at my television screen and try not to think of my daughter sleeping in someone else’s house on the other side of town. Of her cuddled up with a man she loves with the same all-encompassing obsession she loves me.

I try not to think about Sera inside an opulent hotel, waltzing around a diamond-studded ballroom and wearing what I can only imagine is a gown made for the most divine bodies.

I try not to think about the penthouse suite she’ll sleep in tonight, and I especially don’t think about Anderson fucking Markum and the way he says her name.