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COLLIN AND Iperformed our first dance to a song he loved. “It’s Always You,” made famous by Frank Sinatra. It was a song with themes of overt obsession so I was delighted by his choice, even though Sinatra is rather pedestrian. Collin and his mother danced toanotherFrank Sinatra song with much less sexual overtones. I don’t remember which one because I didn’t really care. I even danced with my father-in-law, at his behest, since everyone would be watching. He chose a Dean Martin song to really mix it up. Way to go, Hayes. He finally got to put actual hands on me. I knew he’d been dying to do so, despite his initial protests of the marriage.
After a few of the old standards, courtesy of the live band, it wastime to spice up the dance floor with the DJ. Everyone was good and sauced and rarin’ to go by that time, including myself. Ithrivedwhen I got to dance, and at my wedding, I was going to steal the show, especially after Gale’s moment in the sun. When there’s a dance floor, I’m on it all night long. Seriously. I do not leave unless I absolutely must. I’ve always been good at it. Whenever I’d gone out dancing, I would get compliments from complete strangers about how great I looked. So yes, I was most certainly going to put on a show in front of my now-legal nearest and dearest. Truthfully, when I get the opportunity to dance, I take it, because it’s the only time I feel like I can actually be myself. I’m not pretending when I’m dancing. I genuinely adore it. I don’t have to think about anything. I just do it. And I look incredible.
I should have known it would be like a moth to a flame. Like clockwork, during a particularly pulsating Rihanna number that all but encouraged gyrating hips and ass, Dave Bradford found his way over to the bride. “Mrs.Case, may I dance with you?” he shouted at me over the music. A sly smile. His tie long gone. A sweaty brow. He was irresistible.
“I’ll dance with anyone if they’re good!” I shouted back to him. I wasn’t lying. In my opinion, men should always learn how to dance if they want to get in with women anywhere, especially if they’re hard on the eyes. I’d dance with the ugliest guy in the bar if he had serious moves. It’s beyond fun to be twirled and dipped and tossed around by someone who actually knows what they’re doing, even if they’re ghastly by any other measure.
“I’m not very good.” Dave grinned, but I didn’t believe him. He looked like he’d be a phenomenal dancer, limber in the right places, but perhaps that was wishful thinking. He got closer to talk into myear. “But I’ll do it anyway because it’s fun and I don’t really care what any of these assholes think about me.”
“I’ll make you look good.” I grinned.
Fate smiled upon us because the music slowed down to something undeniably sultry. I’m convinced the DJ had been observing our interaction. Perhaps she instinctively knew I wanted this man to put his hands on me. Maybe she thought we were friendly exes or people from each other’s past who never quite got the timing right. Either way, she must have felt wistful about it enough to throw us a bone in the form of a slow song so we could enjoy the moment, but one that wouldn’t be interpreted by anyone else as anything unsavory. She played a Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga duet of another old standard. It was the kind of song you’d dance to with your grandfather or a child or a slow uncle.
It wasn’t amorous. The perfect disguise.
“A stylist, huh?” he whispered again in my ear, far too close. He then waved at Collin, who waved back, as if to give his approval for the dance. Curious. Collin knew this man had no problems encroaching on women who were spoken for. My husband must have been trying to play it cool. I wondered if I’d hear about the transgression later, considering he had made his wishes about Dave and me known, but I couldn’t imagine Collin bringing it up while we consummated our marriage, which I was actually excited to do so I could further fantasize about Dave with no repercussions.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smiled, pulling away intentionally to create space. I wanted him to work for it.
“You knowexactlywhat I’m talking about,” Dave said. He gave me a quick twirl, tossing me out, before pulling me in close again. Hewasa good dancer.
“Why didn’t you say anything when we stopped by the dreaded singles table?” I whispered back to him.
“Funny. But I don’t find being single dreadful at all,” he said, pleased with himself.
“So I’ve heard,” I purred.
“You know, we all thought Coll would bag a socialite when his number was up. Not a career woman like you. It’s impressive. My money was on Heather Concord. Easy on the eyes, low on the brains. But you probably keep him on his toes.”
“You didn’t bet on your friend Gale?” I asked.
“No.” He laughed. “I did not bet on Gale Wallace-Leicester marrying Collin Case.”
“Why not?” I asked, feigning innocence, which he caught on to immediately.
“You’re bad,” he replied. He liked it.
“So you’re coming back to New York full-time?”
“Mm-hmm.” He nodded, giving me another spin out and back in again. “Still figuring out where I want to land. Somewhere safe.” He smiled.
“What about the Upper West Side? To stay close to your friend Hemingway.”
“So she’s a comedian?”
“The observational kind. What were you up to that day?”
“When I’m in town for a quick trip, I usually stay with Gale.”
“Why?” I couldn’t hide my disdain and that made him laugh again.
“She doesn’t ask questions.”
“I think it’s a valid question considering the existence of hotels and, I’m assuming, a fair amount of properties in the family?”
“Gale’s an old friend and her place is nice. It’s private. And I can be off the grid a bit,” he explained. “See, Bea, I don’t like my whereabouts widelyknown. I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m followed. Socially, that is.” I snorted. “I know I sound like a dick”—he laughed, too—“but it’s true. So I was in town for some meetings and I didn’t want to see anyone else and I didn’t want anyone seeing me. Fuck Page Six, you know?”
