* * *
Going out for the evening at nine o’clock was also unusual for Nora. After showering and drying her hair, she stifled a laugh as she put the finishing touches on her makeup. It occurred to her that she was getting ready to go out dancing with a man who might be almost twenty years younger.
It seemed her life in Paris was becoming all about being impulsive. And she appeared to be dealing with it. At least she hoped she was.
She had decided her little black dress was just the thing to wear and paired it with the only heels she had brought—black and strappy. Checking herself in the mirror, she took a deep, bracing breath and prayed she would fit in.
While she waited, Nora thought about her new fascination with tango. She had actually watched a few videos recently and delved into its rich history. Everything about the dance had taken her by surprise and stirred something in her. She was eager to learn more.
A few minutes before nine o’clock, Luc buzzed her apartment and Nora said she would be right down. She usually wore running shoes on the stairs, but tonight as she started down the steps, it didn’t occur to her she might have to walk differently in her heels. After rushing down the first flight, she turned the corner to go down the next. The heel of her shoe wobbled, and she just managed to grab onto the railing to avoid hurtling to the bottom. She stopped to catch her breath and make certain she hadn’t hurt herself. Then she carefully took one step after the other to the bottom.
She fluffed her hair, hoping she didn’t appear too frazzled before she stepped into the foyer.
And there he was. Luc, with his flawlessly sculpted French features, looking as gorgeous as he did in the occasional fantasies Nora had had of him since the first night she met him. He gave her a friendly bise and held the door open. “You look lovely, Nora. I hope you enjoy tonight. I believe you will.”
How could I not? she wondered. A flutter of butterflies rose in her stomach.
On the way there, Luc gave her a brief history of the dance club. “This is a private club with a large membership. As you know, we love to dance in France. During the week there is dancing of all kinds here, and also lessons. Swing dancing is still extremely popular. Friday nights from ten until three, it is only tango. They bring in a live band, who are so good!”
“It sounds serious.” Nora felt a twinge of nerves.
“Non, non. Pas du tout. Not at all. You will see, there are dancers of every level.” His voice was calm and reassuring, without any hint of expectations.
Nora’s case of nerves was soothed somewhat by Luc’s words and his easygoing personality. She couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be to share the company of someone like him, but closer to her age. She promised herself to try and relax and enjoy whatever was to come … as unusual as that was for her.
It wasn’t difficult to enjoy being in Luc’s company. His dark hair was slicked in a style reminiscent of a romantic tango dancer, and some of his unruly curls managed to escape just enough to show a hint of playfulness beneath his polished surface. His bright eyes, easy humor, and impeccable manners gave him an undeniable lived-in charm.
Nora looked at him in quiet moments, inwardly shaking her head at her good fortune at being able to spend time with someone so charming.If only the Girls could see me now.
Nora felt Luc’s hand gently on her arm as the doorman greeted them. His description of the club had been accurate. The spacious music-filled room featured low lighting and gleaming wood floors. A lively crowd sat at tables and chairs lining the walls, which were festively decorated with pine boughs and red ribbons.
They were welcomed with warm enthusiasm, and Nora saw Luc was well known as people greeted him by name and affectionate gestures.
After being seated at a prime table with a view of the dance floor, a waiter immediately appeared with a bottle of champagne. Luc grinned at Nora’s look of surprise.
“Nora, may I present Henri? He will be our waiter, and your wish is his command.”
The waiter, in traditional white shirt, black trousers, and long black apron, bowed to Nora and, with a refined accent, said, “A pleasure to meet you. I will help make your visit here one to remember.”
Nora smiled graciously. “Merci beaucoup.”
Luc turned to Nora, “Do you mind champagne, or would you prefer something else?”
“Champagne is lovely, thank you. I’m becoming quite accustomed to it,” she said with a hint of amusement in her voice.
Luc gave a slight nod and a smile to Henri, who returned it with a polite bow before retreating.
“You seem to know the waiter well,” Nora observed.
“Yes, I do. But really it’s not usual, we’ve known each other a long time. Here in France, we consider our waiters as professionals. Traditionally, they remain with their employer for their entire career and are well remunerated. It is a different situation than in America. When we see each other often, like this, we become friends.”
The band began to play a piece Nora recognized, and Luc held out his hand. “This is our cue. It’s one of the pieces we danced to at Au Lapin Agile. Shall we give it a try?”
Nora gulped and Luc grinned at her expression. “Remember, just lean into my abrazo and trust me. I won’t disappoint you.”
The dance floor was filled with diverse couples of all sorts of pairings. Everyone moved with quiet elegance to the music—some smiling, others solemn, and a few lost in the spell of something hopelessly romantic.
Despite her nerves and a few hesitant missteps, Nora found herself leaning in, as Luc had gently advised. The motion seemed like a dream to her, as she floated along guided by the quiet assurance of his subtle tutelage. She was acutely aware of his scent—light and intoxicating, a mere whisper of cologne, faint hints of vetiver and spiced citrus. Fresh yet undeniably seductive.
