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“Forgive me,” I said slowly, cobbling together my manners. “Do I know you?”
She chuckled. “No, Mr. Hardigan,” she told me as she held out a hand. “You do not know me. Not yet. But I know you—all of us know you. Now, dance?”
Who were all of us? I couldn’t ignore the proffered hand unless I planned on being exceptionally rude. “What should I call you?”
I took her hand. She placed her free hand on my shoulder and I rested mine on her waist and kept a respectable distance between us.
“For now, I like ma’am. You say it very respectfully, almost like you mean it.” She smiled. I didn’t know the music or the dance, but I managed a semi-decent shuffle step.
This wasnotmy speed. I maneuvered her carefully, so I could keep an eye on Mayhem.
“I apologize then, ma’am, because this type of waltzing is not something I’ve done often.”
“Not to worry,” she informed me. “It’s a simple box step. Left, right, left, right. One, two, three, four.”
She recited out the instructions again and I followed her steps.
“Very good,” she told me. “Now, you continue in that simple step, avoid the other dancers, while pretending to be interested in what I have to say, and you can keep an eye on the young lady who threw a drink in your face.”
There was something almost aristocratic in her bearing and her voice, but there was also a kind of warmth I didn’t expect. She actually sounded like she was giving me shit.
“Pretending I’m interested won’t take that much effort,” I informed her. “But you will have to tell me more than how to dance.”
She laughed.
“Touché, Mr. Hardigan. Touché.”
We paused as the music ended and I clapped politely. When it began again, she raised her eyebrows at me. Mayhem was still caught up in conversation with the couple, and my shirt was still damp and smelling of wine.
“Ma’am?” I asked, offering my hand.
“I would be honored.” My dance partner was absolutely laughing at me, but she also gave me a nod of approval. After she glided into my arms, she tilted her head. “Box step will work with this one,” she said after a moment. “It’s a solid move and you handle it well.”
“I have a very good teacher.” And a sister who would give me so much shit. The corners of my mouth twitched upward. I should ask Ivy to teach me to dance. She would get so much entertainment out of it.
Fuck knew she deserved to smile.
“Now, that look,” my partner said, reminding me I wasn’t alone. “What put that look on your face?”
Mayhem actually glanced at me, there was a flicker of apology on her face but it smoothed away and then EzrafuckingGraham walked over to take her arm.
When the hell did he get back?
“Oh, now I am definitely intrigued,” she said. “You have to tell me…”
“It’s not polite to gossip,” I informed her as I fought the need to glare. Why the fuck was Ezra here? We hadn’t even mentioned this event. The last time I checked, he was still recovering from his wounds.
Not that it shut him up any.
“Oh, my dear, Mr. Hardigan, the first rule of business you should learn is that gossip is currency. It’s not just who you know, but what you know about them…”
“Really?” I said. “That seems—a little more street than I would have expected.”
We moved in the simple box step and she let me lead. Mayhem didn’t look any happier about Ezra’s arrival than I was. When he slid his arm around her waist, I fought the need to grind my teeth.
“What is the difference between an executive and a gang member?”
That pulled my attention. I focused on her. The measured intelligence in her eyes dared me to really listen. “Money?”
