‘Thank you,’ I reply. ‘I feel good. Although I think Ralph Lauren may have to take some of the credit.’
‘I don’t think he’s the only dude who’s made you glow, sweetie.’
I laugh in surprise. ‘Um, perhaps.’
‘The universe has a plan for you, Nora Brown,’ he says, walking towards the main doors. ‘Alignment is a beautiful thing.’
Brad and his tanned legs disappear outside while I head back to the ballroom, smiling to myself. I catch sight of the massage appointment board and sign myself up before returning to the table. I’m excited for this evening and for once, I believe every word that Brad said.
CHAPTER29
‘Would you like to dance?’
Nish awkwardly holds out his hand, his face sombre yet hopeful. I just know his palm is clammy. The truth is, I do not want to dance; that’s nothing to do with Nish but everything to do with the sixteen-ounce ribeye steak, lobster tails and bucket of truffle fries now pinning me to my chair. I might as well have stuck my head in a trough. Ralph Lauren didn’t take surf and turf into account when designing this dress. But how can I say no to Nish? It would be like kicking a puppy.
‘Love to,’ I reply with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, knocking back the remainder of my champagne. I take his hand and he leads me to the dancefloor where absolutely NO ON ELSE IS DANCING. I’m not surprised though; Anna’s been playing Ace of Base for the past thirty minutes. I think I might have finally discovered her flaw.
Brad spots us and leaps to his feet, sprinting to the laptop.Please let him have better taste in music, I think, smiling awkwardly at Nish. If he puts on anything by Runrig or The Proclaimers, I’m bowing out. Ugh, I feel like a twat. I wish everyone would stop looking.
When the music starts, I feel a wave of relief wash over me. It’s ‘Can’t Feel My Face’ by The Weeknd. I love this song. I start to move. Nish watches me, his eyes wide like saucers.
Hang on, this is a sexy song… oh dear God, I’m dancing to a sexy song with a twenty-four-year-old like a dirty old cougar. I’m on the verge of patting him on the head and retreating slowly but then the beat drops and Nish starts to dance.
My jaw drops.
I look around the room and everyone has the same expression because we’ve all just discovered that Nish is cool as hell. The shy, awkward guy we’ve been seeing all week has been replaced by someone who has serious swag. Within seconds, the beautiful Meg has made a beeline straight for Nish and I happily step aside. Good for him.
It doesn’t take long for everyone else to pile on to the dancefloor, drinks in hand, shoes kicked off. Everyone except Will, who either hates dancing or isn’t drunk enough yet.
Three songs later, I boogie back to my table and unbuckle the straps on my sandals, letting my ‘trodden upon by Tim’ toes rest for a while. I slide into the seat beside Will.
‘Not dancing?’ I ask, pouring myself some champagne.
‘I will,’ he replies. ‘I’m just waiting for a song I like.’
‘I don’t think Brad will have any Westlife.’
Panic! at the Disco’s ‘Girls/Girls/Boys’ begins playing. I instantly think of Charlie. She’s obsessed with them.
‘This will do,’ he says, ‘Let’s go.’
‘You like Panic?’
‘No but I like this song. C’mon.’
This time Will leads me by the hand to the dancefloor but unlike Nish, his hand isn’t clammy, and his grip isn’t weak. However, alsounlike Nish, Will isn’t the greatest dancer, but it doesn’t matter. He has this cheeky dynamism which seems to draw everyone to him. Before I know it, he’s swamped by women wanting to dance with him or even just near him. Even Brad is making his presence known. I step aside and dance with some of the guys from the other groups, but my eyes are on Will.
He’s like Andrew Morrison from high school – that one guy who was just badass regardless of what he did.
The more I watch Will, the more it sinks in that in two days we’ll go our separate ways, and just like Andrew Morrison, one day he’ll fleetingly pop into my head, and I’ll wonder what happened to him. It feels strange to think that in two days he’ll just be a guy I met once at bootcamp.
‘Having fun, Nora?’
Anna’s voice pulls me back into the present. ‘I am, thanks,’ I reply. ‘Dinner was delicious.’
‘Pleased to hear it,’ she says. ‘I thought you looked a little pensive just now.’
‘I’m just lost in the music,’ I lie. ‘I’m good.’
