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It must’ve been nice being the sun personified. Chatty. Sweet. A complete natural at this whole peopling thing.
I could see why Romeo was obsessed with her. She possessed the uncanny ability to make anyone feel seen. Important. Worthy.
“Not many, but some. My best friend Ari is getting married in a few months. I can’t wait to see her.”
In fact, I’d saved up for over a year to afford the plane ticket and a small off-registry gift.
Dallas nodded. “Ari’s such a pretty name.”
“It’s short for Arirang. She hates it, because she’s named after this ancient folk song that played in the hotel room next door when her parents conceived her. The song is stunning, by the way. But every time she has to explain that her parents smashed to it, she turns pinker than a Barbie doll.” I giggled into my palm. “She’s gorgeous, funny, and just the best. A fencer, too. I wish you could meet her.”
“I’m sure I will, one day.”
We reached the ballroom. It felt forbidden to be here, almost, even though the woman beside me practically held the keys to the city. Not to mention I’d literally scrubbed this room wall-to-wall yesterday.
I hesitated, fingering the glossy fabric of my gown.
Two suited staff members opened the door, and just like that, we were sucked into the vortex of the dazzling soirée.
Pastel dresses swept the floor as couples waltzed. Servers weaved in and out of the crowd like black floss spinning around diamonds.
Women leaned in, whispering in each other’s ears as soon as we stepped inside.
Dallas’ spine tensed. She burrowed closer to me, almost hugging me.
In that moment, I realized Dallas and I were actually more similar than I’d ever expected.
She was too colorful—too brave to fit in.
And I was too poor—too unruly to want to.
“Don’t mind them. Only people without love in their lives become haters.” Her hand slipped into mine, tugging me inside. “I’ll teach you how to waltz.”
My knee-jerk reaction was to protest, but then I thought—whythe heck not? It was my birthday. I deserved to dance in a pretty dress.
Dallas gathered me in her arms, one hand on my upper back, the other clasping my free palm. It felt ridiculous. I was so much taller than her, and a stomach full of baby separated us. Still, I rolled with it.
“Forward with your left foot, side with the right, close them together, then… yup.” She guided me with her feet. “Backwards with your right foot. You’re getting the hang of it. I forgot you’re a fencer. Quick on your feet.”
The music caressed the bare skin of my arms as I swayed and twirled. I closed my eyes, ignoring the heavy stares we got.
Incognito, my ass.
We flew under the radar like a marching band in a library.
“Do you believe in happy endings?” I croaked, barely audible for Dallas to hear.
“Yes.” She clung on to my back tighter. “I live mine every single day. It’s not always perfect, but it sure is happy. We can all write our own happy endings. That’s why hope exists. It’s our pen.”
“I feel like mine ran out of ink.”
“Oh, no.” She shimmied us, lips curved up. “You just need to give it a good shake.”
We laughed and twirled, like two kids playing make-believe. When the song ended, Dallas bowed to me, and I did the same. I raised my head, the grin wiping off my face in an instant.
Because behind Dallas’ shoulder stood no other than my boss.
My formidable, incredibly pissed-off boss, by the looks of it.
