Page 6 of Even After This
After gulping down my uncertainty, I offer him one curt nod. I can do this.
The piano, saxophone, and upright bass play the opening notes, and as the first words of “The Way You Look Tonight” roll out, I start to understand that we have actually made a mistake of epic proportions.
Clunky doesn’t begin to describe our movement.
Unsurprisingly, Harlan leads well. Yet he is about a quarter of a beat off every fourth step.
Our feet are dancing on different planets.
I lower my head and stare at our disastrous strides, unable to figure out how to fix this. We knock each other’s toes, our arms sway off-kilter, and if our proximity narrows, one or both of us will be in danger of a concussion.
Bam.
“Whoa. Sorry there, bud.” Harlan offers a chin lift to fellow A-list dancers caught in our path.
Pow.
“Nope. Not that way.” Harlan pulls me into him and scoots us around a tall couple, offering a dashing, apologetic smile as we pass.
Schmack.
I now fear we look like Batman and Robin participating in hand-to-hand combat.
“Harlan.” I lean toward him in laughter. “We’re terrible at this.”
Harlan bites his lower lip in concentration, looking over my shoulder. “Nah.”
Glancing around, I note we are now being given a wide berth. I catch the eye of a blond with hair big enough to rival the women of Texas. She smiles at me with a cross between sympathy and amusement. Her dance partner winks.
Wow, these people know he’s terrible. And it appears they choose to love him through it anyway.
The second I think we’re safe from another disastrous collision, my ankle falters.
In Harlan’s only smooth move of the night, he steadies me against his chest. “Gotcha.” He locks his eyes with mine. “Your hair smells amazing.”
“The lady at the salon said I needed a dash of vanilla in my milk-chocolate hair.” I close my eyes, lamenting my brilliant response. When I look back to him, he’s still staring so I keep sayingwords. “She used a lot of food items to describe my coloring and makeup. Strawberry-shortcake cheeks. Red-apple lips. This only made me hungry.”Oh mygosh. Someone make me stop talking.“When she mentioned my eyes being the color of Twinkies, I asked for a snack break.”
Yes. Yes, I did just say that.
The left side of Harlan’s mouth twitches. “Your eyes seem more of a golden hazel to me than Twinkie yellow.”
The last few bars of Frank Sinatra’s song decrescendo, and, God help us, Harlan moves to dip me.
Jumping out of an airplane can’t be as terrifying.
After surviving the plunge, I pat my hair back down from the stratosphere and attempt an escape to my table. However, he doesn’t loosen his grip. His grin sends me a silent invitation for a second whirl around the floor. At least his abysmal dancing skills help me relax, causing me to almost forget his celebrity status.
But will I survive another go-around?
During the first few measures of “Come Away with Me,” I’m relieved at the musical choice of a straightforward waltz. However, as each set of three beats pass, it’s clear Harlan prefers to count to four.
The slower pace is in the best interest of crowd safety, but this new category of awkwardness makes me yearn for the earlier slam dancing.
“What brought you to Colorado Springs?” he asks.
Interesting that he thinks he can handle talking and dancing at the same time.
“I’m looking at properties in the area. A realtor from the Broadmoor sent me some options. I’m supposed to meet with her tomorrow.”
