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It feels like we’re in a bubble, just she and I. Right now, I’m not the boss and she doesn’t work for me. We’re just two people, dancing together.
This isn’t how I expected this night to go. I expected to bail out early, telling Nadia and Shane I had too much work to do. Idohave too much to do, but then when Nadia announced that we were going to a club, a picture entered my brain of Mila and me on the dance floor. Not dancing like this, because I can’t think of a time I’ve ever slow danced at a nightclub—not that I’ve spent much time in places like these—but just dancing. Spending time with her.
So, I thought, I’m already out, what’s a little more time? Plus, I hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk to Mila at dinner with how we were seated. And I wanted to. That was the part I was looking forward to the most tonight. But there wasn’t much of a chance with me at the end of the table and her toward the middle. That didn’t stop me from admiring her glossy brown hair, curled and hanging around her shoulders. Or the blue dress she’s wearing and how it hugs her in all the right spots.
Against my better judgment, I went to the club, hoping to get some time with Mila. Even knowing that I’ll get plenty this next week in Hawaii. But that’s supposed to be work, not dancing. Then it turns out she doesn’t dance. That was an unfortunate revelation. But it didn’t matter. I got my chance when I saw her sitting by herself on that purple couch and quickly made my excuses to leave Nadia and her crew on the dance floor, and now I’ve got the woman who takes up too much of my brain space in my arms. I’d say this night has gone way better than I could have hoped.
I’ll have to scramble to finish the work I needed to do tonight, and there’s also laundry to do for next week. It’ll all probably catch up to me later, but right now I couldn’t care less.
She steps on my foot again. The other one this time.
“Having regrets?” she asks.
“Not yet,” I tell her. What I really want to say is“Never,”but that would make me sound like a lovesick teen and not a man in his mid-thirties who’s got so many things hanging over his head. Not that I’m thinking about any of that right now. I’ve only got Mila on my mind.
“I’ve probably scuffed up your shoes. I’ll buy you new ones,” she says into my ear. “Unless they’re, like, stupid expensive.”
I laugh. “Don’t even worry about it.” I won’t tell her that they were cheap and from T.J. Maxx, as is most of my wardrobe. The suit pants and jacket I’m wearing tonight were a more extravagant purchase that I bought last year when I needed something smart to wear to a meeting with people I needed to impress. It’s the only nice one I’ve got. Well, except for the one I let Shane buy me.
“This is weird,” she says.
“Dancing with me?”
“No,” she says. But then sighs. “Well, yes. I guess that’s weird. But it should probably feel weirder than it does. You know?”
“I do,” I say. She has no idea.
“But what I really mean is to be slow dancing at a nightclub.”
“That’s definitely different. Something I’ve never done.”
“In your many years of nightclub experience?”
“More like very little experience. I’m not really the nightclub type.”
“You should be,” she says. “You’re letting all those dance moves go to waste.”
I like that she noticed my dancing. I’m not all that great, but I can do the basics. It’s come in handy a time or two. Like right now, for instance.
“I’m not wasting them right now,” I say.
“You might change your mind when you see the state of your shoes.”
“They’re just shoes.”
She pulls her cheek away from mine and leans her head back so we’re face-to-face, her eyes searching me. I don’t loosen my hold on her, even though right now would probably be an appropriate time.
“You don’t care about things like that, do you? Material stuff.”
I shake my head slowly. “Not at all.”
“Why?”
“It’s just never been a priority for me. I’ve got other things to think about.”
“Like work?”
I nod once. “I probably shouldn’t be here tonight,” I hear myself say.
