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And there’s Ellie, twinkling across the dance floor as she and Lucca twirl a waltz to the live band’s music. Her eyes find me as I reach the base of the stairs, and she gasps, stopping in her tracks not ten feet from me.
“Bianka, where did you get that dress!” she asks in utter mortification.
I smooth my hands over it in a self-conscious gesture. “Mira Couture,” I say.
Several girls standing to the left of me giggle quietly as they pick up on the conversation. One blonde A-line bob belongs to Hannah Fiore’s friend from our Dramatization and Emotional Acting class, making me confident Hannah will be aware of our fashion faux pas.
“Me too,” Ellie moans.
“Well, if I’m stuck looking like anyone tonight, I guess I can be glad it’s someone with such good taste,” I say lightly, brushing it off as I pull her into a hug. “Have fun dancing.”
With a light smile, I leave her and Lucca, heading toward the bar and intentionally choosing the side farthest from Cassio to order a drink. I keep to myself as I watch the crowd move in a loosely circular pattern across the floor.
It’s funny to note that with so many dance and theater majors, we all fall into the choreographed patterns of a typical ballroom dance–even when given the opportunity to mix it up. Then again, it isn’t club music blasting from speakers that might get people down and dirty. No, this is an elegant affair–one probably only students of the Arts Department can enjoy to its fullest potential.
I glance at the clock sitting high above the entry staircase and note that a half hour has passed. It’s time for our first exchange. I abandon my drink at the bar as Ellie and Lucca exit the dance floor, making their way toward Cassio and the bar. Ellie will excuse herself to the bathroom a moment later, where we’ll swap masks.
The bathroom’s empty when I arrive, and I take the opportunity to collect myself as I remove my feathery black mask. When the door opens, I glance toward it to watch Ellie twist home the bolt, locking us inside the elegantly marbled space.
“Ready?” she stage whispers, reaching back to undo her mask.
I nod, offering her my black one and accepting the rhinestone-studded gold one with lace trim. We each tie on our new masks and double-check to ensure they’re properly in place.
“And I’m off!” she says, giving me a tight squeeze before rushing toward the door once more. “Have fun!”
She’s gone a moment later, and I wait, pretending to be Ellie as I kill a few more minutes alone. Then I exit the luxurious gold-fixture room, making a beeline for the Marchetti twins. They each lean casually against the bar, a mirror image of one another at this distance aside from the dirty martini that silently tells me which twin to approach.
“Better?” Cassio asks me with a smile as I reach his side.
I laugh–doing my best to imitate Ellie’s giggle–and nod, realizing he must be hinting at part of the exchange that took place when Ellie excused herself.
Then Cassio offers me his elbow as he sets down his brother’s preferred drink. “Care for another spin around the dance floor?”
Guiding me into the swirling fray of cocktail dresses and tuxedos, Cassio pulls me close. A new song begins, and he eases into a foxtrot. I’ve never actually danced with him before, and a ripple of excitement races up my spine as I realize he’s quite good.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting mine as he holds me in a strong frame.
“Thank you.” I smile as warmth colors my cheeks. “You look quite dashing.”
He hums appreciatively, his fingers giving my palm a gentle squeeze.
My heart beats enthusiastically against my ribs as we move around the dance floor, soaking up the romantic evening beneath the magical chandelier light, wrapped in each other’s arms. I could burst from the joy brimming inside me. This is all I could ever dream of, and I love that I’m spending it with Cassio.
We transition out a half hour later, and then again, keeping to our schedule to ensure Ellie and Lucca get plenty of time together as well. Words can’t express how much I love them for giving up half their evening so Cassio and I can enjoy some time together as well.
After all, whenever Cassio and I dance, Ellie and Lucca are forced to play Cassio and me. They stand apart from one another, performing their roles well as they appear disinterested in speaking. Poor Lucca is even forced to dance with Hannah Fiore at one point in the night–a fact I’m sure he won’t let Cassio live down easily.
It’s time to switch out again, and this time, Cassio leads me to the bathroom, intending to escort Ellie back to the dance floor and spin her around a time or two before passing her off to Lucca.
Breathless from our full night of dancing, I release a quiet giggle as we enter the quiet hallway leading to the adjoining room, and I pull Cassio in for a scintillating kiss. His arms snake around me, lifting me off my feet as he deepens the kiss, his tongue stroking playfully between my lips.
“Okay, you two,” Ellie teases as her heels ring smartly against the marble floor. “No one needs to watch you play tonsil hockey.”
Cassio growls quietly, an adorable sign of frustration over having to let me go before he’s ready, and I giggle giddily. Gently, my sexy Italian man sets me back on my feet, and Ellie hooks her arm with mine. Cassio swats me playfully on the ass, and I squeal as the bathroom door swings shut behind me. A moment later, the bolt slides home.
20
CASSIO
