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His clothes made a statement somewhere between not trying too hard and damn, I look smoking hot in these jeans. The solid black button-down shirt was unbuttoned just far enough down to see enough of his smooth, sculpted chest to make a girl want to unbutton it the rest of the way. The dress shoes pulled it all together, and those light-green eyes that stood out among his dark mane smoldered, melting anyone that dared look directly into them.
Clara had taste, I’ll give her that.
I called out to Clara to let her know that her date had arrived, and she came out right away, not making him wait. That in itself spoke to how much she was into this guy, because Clara was the kind of person who would be late to her own funeral. I always had to tell her things started an hour before they really did so that we would be on time.
They left soon after he arrived, as he escorted her down to his SUV; no motorcycle tonight, thankfully. I didn’t think the little blue dress would have fared well on the back of a bike, and neither would all the time I put into curling her hair.
Alone at last, I made myself a sandwich and sat around for a bit to relax and watch a few episodes of How I Met Your Mother on Netflix before I hopped in the shower and began to get ready.
After my shower, I blow dried my hair and styled it with big wavy curls. I ended up with some nice beach waves. I didn’t go to the extent on my make-up that Clara had, since I wasn’t actually going on a date tonight. I needed to keep it casual.
Why did it feel like I was getting ready for a date, though?
I decided on a pair of form-fitting jeans, a dark gray silky tank top with some minimal jewelry, and a pair of red heels. You couldn’t go salsa dancing without heels.
I added a form-fitting black blazer since it was getting cold at night, something easy to take off and leave at the table while I danced. A small red clutch would be perfect to hold the basic necessities – I.D., debit card, keys, and lip gloss.
Normally for salsa dancing, I’d have worn a slinky or flowy dress that would move with the twists and turns of the dance moves. But tonight, I wanted to look low key so that it didn’t look like I was trying too hard to impress a date, since my purpose was to help him find a girl there to talk to and connect with.
By the time nine-thirty p.m. rolled around, I was ready to go. I called for an Uber driver who took no time to pick me up. I gave him the address to El Sabor. When I arrived a few minutes early, I walked inside and ordered a tall rum and coke with a lime at the bar; just enough to calm my nerves a little while I waited.
I watched the people coming in and people already sitting at tables around the perimeter of the dance floor. I saw a lot of couples and groups of mixed company, but there were several groups of girls who didn’t appear to be accompanying dates. It looked like a promising selection.
I wasn’t waiting too long before Dylan arrived. He spotted me at the bar and made his way over to me. He looked great, wearing a pair of jeans that hugged his thighs and butt in just the right way. A teal polo shirt hugged his upper body accentuating his pecs and biceps, showing off a nice tan. His hair was tousled and messy, and the smile he wore touched his light brown eyes, making them seem to sparkle in the dim lights of the room.
These girls didn’t know what was about to hit them.
“Zia,” Dylan greeted me with a genuine smile.
“Hey Dylan,” I returned.
Dylan flagged the bartender, ordered a bottle of beer, and we made our way over to a table in the corner. He looked around at the people on the dance floor in the center of the room and then glanced his way around the perimeter.
Taking a swig of his beer, he then asked, “So how do we do this?”
I wanted to see what he was attracted to first, so I asked him whom he would normally be drawn to on his own.
“Honestly…” With a lift of his chin, he signaled in the direction of a bunch of scantily clad girls standing at the bar.
I gave him a knowing look.
“You notice those girls because they’re trying so hard to be noticed. What about those girls on the dance floor dancing with each other?” I pointed in another direction to some girls in the middle of the floor who were dancing, laughing, excitement written all over their faces.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, they’re cute,” he admitted. “What makes you think they’re any different from the other girls over there?”
“Because these girls are probably here because they love to dance. Because they have an interest in something and they do it for themselves. Not because they want to please someone else. They just show more self-confidence. They don’t have to bare all their goods to come out here and have the time of their life,” I explained.
He nodded his head like he was letting it sink in.
“Why don’t you go ask one of them to dance?” I smiled playfully.
He laughed with his hands up in front of him as if he were physically shoving the idea away from him. “Oh no, I don’t think so.”
“What? Why not? You can’t go to the salsa club and not dance. That’s against the rules.” I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.
“I’ve never salsa danced before. I can’t just go out there making a fool of myself like I know what I’m doing,” he explained.
“Alright, alright. I’m no dance instructor, but I can show you the basics. The extra you’ll have to make up as you go.”
