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My head falls backward as I stare up at the ceiling. This is going to be one of those cheesy surprise bride and groom dances, isn’t it? Yep, it is.
They look at each other and high five. They each hold one finger out toward the audience, meaning wait. Everyone has caught on, laughing and clapping, encouraging them. They part ways, each walking toward a small changing screen placed on either side of the hall. I thought the screens were just decorations.
Nope.
The catchy beat of “The Way You Make Me Feel” by Michael Jackson is making everyone tap their feet or bob their heads. It only takes Slade and Marin about thirty seconds to reappear. Oh boy. To coin a familiar phrase, the audience goes wild.
Really, it does. Marin steps out in a little black dress with a tight jean jacket over it. One hand rests on her hip as she poses all sassy-like.
Catcalls fill the air.
Then Slade steps out, wearing all black. He’s ditched the blazer and is now sporting a black leather jacket. He tips his dark sunglasses down, his eyes on Marin.
I swear the room just heated up. Sweat beads on my forehead. I’m not sure how to deal with this. Electricity is in the air between Slade and Marin. It’s time for me to leave. I don’t want to see this. I’ve seen enough. I start to stand…
Then Slade lifts up the bottom of his jeans a little to reveal his white Michael Jackson-esque socks. My ears know—without a doubt—that every woman in the room just screamed. Ouch. I get it. The ladies like Slade.
Marin walks onto the dance floor with a skip in her step, and where she goes, Slade follows, as if he can’t stay away, mimicking the song’s music video. His hands reach out but never make contact. All the while, Slade is lip-syncing and pulling off several of Michael Jackson’s dance moves without looking like an idiot. I have to admit, the man can dance.
Marin pauses, stepping out of character for a moment. She claps for Slade, a huge smile on her face, the brightest smile I’ve ever seen.
I sit back down. Suppose I need to see this. Isn’t this why I’m here? To ensure she’s okay?
Slade flirts with the audience with his expression, often shaking his hands as though they’ve just been burned, signifying that Marin is hot.
Yes, she is.
Marin and Slade circle one another on the dance floor, anticipation building. The guests are loving this, clapping and whistling, egging them on. The cat-and-mouse game they’re playing on the dance floor feels like a precursor to their wedding night. I’m uncomfortable, a little hot under the collar. When I glance around me, no one else seems bothered. Guess it’s just me.
Marin walks Slade backward with a finger touching his chest. Huh. This isn’t the Marin I know. The girl can’t flirt. She tries, but always flops. The girl on the dance floor is confident and assertive.
She’s changed. That much is obvious to me. Is it love that changed her? Maybe.
When the chorus arrives, they start to dance together in perfect synchronization, staying right on the beat with choreographed dance moves. They don’t miss a single step.
I’m impressed. My eyebrows are halfway to my hairline. Wasn’t expecting this.
The practice it must’ve taken to put this together takes me aback. Not only that, this shows just how compatible they are, how connected. They’re on the same wavelength, like the same things. Their relationship is on a level I will never understand. That’s the truth of it. I mean, it’s just a dance. It tells me a lot about them, though. They can work together. They can communicate. They can connect. They can agree on the little things. I’d wager that means they can do it in real life too.
I get up to make my exit. I’m done. This is what I needed to see, what I needed to know. Marin has her happily ever after. I think I can rest easy, forgive myself. I feel a little lighter, like a burden has been lifted. The uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach disappears. I didn’t ruin her life.
On the contrary, Marin Sheridan is bursting with happiness.
I bump into another person making a hasty exit. “Excuse me.”
“Sorry. My fault. It’s just…too much in here. I need air.”
I find myself face to face with a stunning woman. She has long dark hair and kind eyes. “I hear ya. Where’s the escape hatch?”
She smiles, an ear-to-ear smile that makes her face light up. “Let’s not rouse suspicion. How ‘bout we make a perfect getaway together?” Then she offers me her hand. “I’m Kelly.”
“Blu.”
