"His espresso machine has forty buttons. Forty. Who needs forty buttons to make coffee? It's a cry for help."
Victor makes a sound that’s half-scoff, half-laugh.
Patricia looks between us, clearly trying to figure out if I'm serious. "Well. That's... unconventional."
"We're an unconventional couple," Victor says, his hand finding mine. “Now, if you'll excuse us, Patricia. We should circulate."
He steers me away before Patricia can respond, and once we're out of earshot, he leans down to murmur, "Forty buttons?"
"I counted."
"It's a professional-grade espresso system."
"It's a monument to overcomplicated masculinity."
“I hardly think—Actually, that's accurate."
I laugh, and his expression softens in a way I've never seen before. God, he’s handsome—tall and gorgeous and deep-voiced, a testament to sensual masculinity the world over.
“I guess I should be thanking you, Beaumont,” he says quietly.
"For what?"
"For handling Patricia. She was clearly trying to provoke us."
"I know. That's why I went with absurdist humor. It's disarming."
"It worked."
"I have many skills."
"I'm noticing."
The way he says it makes my stomach do a version of the Macarena.
Doesn’t help that we're standing near the windows now, away from the main crowd, the Manhattan skyline spread out behind us like a movie set. From here, you can see the entirety of Midtown—Rockefeller Center in the distance, the Empire State Building lit up in holiday colors, the endless grid of streets and lights and near-holiday hope.
"It's beautiful," I say, looking out at the view.
"It is," Victor agrees, but when I glance over, he's not looking at the city.
He's looking at me.
"Victor—"
"Dance with me."
"What?"
He gestures toward the dance floor where couples are swaying to something slow and jazzy. "We should dance. Married couples dance."
"Is that an order?"
"It's a request."
I should say no. Dancing means being close to him, and being this close to him is clearly more than my overactive pulse can handle. But I also can't think of a good reason to refuse without making it obvious that I'm affected by him.
"Okay," I say.
