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When he drew back, he shook the justice’s hand. He then laced his fingers with Chantelle and they dashed to his car. He started the engine and played their song, “Young Love” by Chris Brown.
Chantelle shut her eyes for a moment. No. This couldn’t be happening. Opening her eyes, her lips parted. She was falling for Lance again.
Touching her throat, she released a deep breath. She would finish the job. There was no need to tell her boss. Chantelle would write this story without a hitch. She wouldn’t tell Lance either. They had their chance, and it didn’t work. They both had their lives to live.
“What do you think?” Lance asked.
Sensing his gaze on her, Chantelle asked, “What?”
“I’m not too keen on an ice sculpture,” he said.
“I can assure you it won’t be a problem.” Adelaide pointed out.
“Chantelle?” Lance repeated.
“I think…” She bit her bottom lip. “You should go for it.”
He sighed. “Are you sure? Andrea’s not here, so your opinion is what I’m working with right now.”
Chantelle smiled. “I’m sure.”
Lance faced Adelaide. “I like this theme. You’re hired. Ask me or call the bride for questions. My mother’s opinions won’t count.”
“As you wish, Mr. Taylor.” Adelaide agreed, extending her fair-skinned petite hand.
Lance shook it. “I look forward to working with you.” He stood to his feet and faced Chantelle once more. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.” Grabbing her purse, she shook Adelaide’s hand too, and then proceeded ahead of Lance out the door. Once in the hallway, she slowed her steps. She pivoted to face him.
“Hungry?” Lance asked. He gazed at his cell as if he were reading a message.
“I—”
“Oh, Mr. Taylor!” Adelaide called out. Though in her stilettos, she caught up to them in the hallway. “I forgot to mention that we will hold the ballroom lessons—”
“Ballroom lessons?” Lance’s eyebrows rose.
“Yes, your mother wanted to make sure—”
“I already mentioned that if you had questions to talk to me or my fiancé.” He reminded her. His hands fidgeted as he returned his phone to his jacket pocket.
Adelaide gave a faint smile. “At the request of your fiancé.”
“It was?” He asked.
“Yes, and your mother confirmed the appointment for this weekend.”
Lance rubbed the back of his head. His mouth twisted, but he answered. “Okay, thank you.”
Adelaide nodded and strutted back down the hall to her office. Once Chantelle and Lance were alone, she watched as he leaned against the wall. His grimace showed with a slight shake of his head.
“Lance?” Chantelle said, inching closer.
“You know I’m not great at dancing,” he said.
She touched his arm for a moment, but then brought her hand down. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure you can do a simple waltz.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Are you forgetting our prom? I soaked your dress, bumping us into the punch bowl.”
