“I learned...”
“Well, whoever taught you is one hell of a teacher. I’m impressed.” He placed his hands around my waist and I leaned against his chest.
As we waltzed around the dance floor, I started to wonder if I could develop feelings for him with time, if he and I might have a chance after all.
He’d been extra attentive ever since we left the beach: He skipped one of his tech meetings to join me at my massage appointment, arranged for me to take an evening horse riding lesson, and even helped me pick out which dress I should wear tonight.
I leaned against his chest and looked out over the room. It was dark with a few massive candles providing the only light. On the far end of the room—in a corner that was illuminated by a yellow haze, a group of violinists played a beautiful song that reverberated throughout the space.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the lead violinist said as her companions continued to play, “we have a lot more songs that we’re going to play for you tonight, but we want you to know that the lights are about to be slightly brightened since the early entry portion of the ball has ended.”
The few people that were in the room clapped and the lights became a tad bit brighter. I looked around for Jonathan—I could feel him watching me, but I could only see ten other people in the room and he wasn’t one of them.
Why does it “feel” like he’s here though?
I heard a soft clicking sound, and the doors at the back of the room opened, allowing a large group of tuxedo-clad and ball gown wearing guests into the room.
“As is tradition at the benefit ball, the first fifteen minutes of dance should be with someone that you don’t know. Once everyone is inside, my companions and I will make play three harsh chords to indicate that it’s time to find someone new to dance with, and the lights will dim again.”
The room started to become louder and louder as the other attendees continued to pour in, and Damien held me tighter—as if he was protecting me from everyone else.
“I’m not sure if I want to dance with anyone else tonight,” he whispered. “Do you?”
“No...”
He kissed my forehead and laughed softly. “Okay, well we won’t. I’ll keep you all to myself. I don’t want—”
“Mr. Edwards?” a woman said his name and we both turned around. “I’m sorry to interrupt you sir, but that shipment you asked about the other day is...” She looked at me and then back at him. “Can I speak to you about this in private?”
“Can it wait?”
She shrugged. “Sure, a twenty million dollar shipment that was inaccurately re-routed can simply...wait.”
He sighed and looked at me. “Would you please excuse me, sweetheart? I won’t be gone for too long...Don’t give away any dances.” He lifted my hand and kissed it before walking away.
“Screechhh! Screechhh! Screechhh!” The violinists scratched their violins to signal the “new dance partner” portion, and then they began to play a beautiful harmony.
The lights began to dim again—almost as dark as they were before, and I heard more instruments—flutes, horns, saxophones, joining in on the violinists’ serenade.
I walked towards the table Damien and I had shared at the candlelit dinner, weaving my way past dancing couples, but before I could sit down, I felt someone grabbing me by my waist.
I tried to push the strong hands away, but it was no use. The hands gripped me even tighter and I felt myself being pulled up against a familiar chest. Jonathan.
He didn’t say a word. He spun me around so we were facing one another and stared at me. He put my arms around his neck and slipped his arms around my waist, looking into my eyes with an expression I couldn’t recognize.
Then he began to dance with me, but it wasn’t smooth and gentle like it used to be. It was rough.
He gripped my sides too hard, twirled me without any finesse, and pushed me away whenever it was time to pull me close.
As he pushed me away again, I realized that I needed to say something before he purposely dropped me to the floor.
“It must be nice to have a world class supermodel on your arm.” I tried not to sound jealous. “I bet you two have been having a really good time in your suite since you’ve been here...”
“We have.”
What? I tried to untangle myself from his arms, but he dipped me low to the ground and held me there, glaring at me, daring me to say something else.
I tucked my lips into my mouth.
He pulled me up and continued the angry rhythm he’d established, refusing to let me go. Then he suddenly stopped dancing altogether. “Have you slept with him?” He narrowed his eyes at me.
“Who?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Claire. Have. You. Slept. With. Him?”
“Define slept with.”
He pulled me close and gripped my sides so firmly that I could barely breathe. “You fucked him?”
“You slept with Stacy Rodriguez. Why do you care what I do?”
He spun me out of his arms. “I don’t.” But from the look in his eyes, I knew that he did, that he wanted—needed me to say that it wasn’t true.
“I don’t need to do this to myself.” He dropped my hands and shook his head. “Forgive me for interrupting your night, Claire. I wish you well and I—”
“I didn’t sleep with him.”
He blinked.
“I was too wrapped up in someone else to do that...But that someone else has clearly moved on, so maybe tonight I should go ahead and—”
“Stacy is just a friend.”
“You two look like a lot more than friends...Friends don’t put their arms around each other or play around like you two have been doing.”
He rolled his eyes. “She’s just a friend.” He placed my arms around his neck again and picked up the dance where we left off. “Of all the men you could’ve dated after me, you chose Damien Edwards?”
“I didn’t know I needed your approval for whoever I choose to date.”
“Seeing as though you were only supposed to be dating me, I’m sure you can see why I would be upset with your poor decision-making skills. You can do a lot better than him.”
“Taking dating advice from an ex-boyfriend? How appropriate.”
“I never did get a chance to buy you that thesaurus...” He tugged at the bow on the back of my gown. “Does your new boyfriend know that I bought you this dress?”
“He doesn’t know about you at all.”
He twirled me around. “Does he make you happy?
I didn’t say anything. I continued dancing with him, trying to read his eyes and force the words I wanted to say out of my mouth. “I’m...I’m sorry that I left you, Jonathan.”
He stopped moving. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry that I left you...”
He sighed and twirled me again, not saying anything in response. He kept swaying me to the beat, acting as if I hadn’t said anything important.
I felt tears welling in my eyes and jerked out of his arms. “You don’t believe me? I really am sorry...I didn’t mean to hurt—”
“You did. You left me for a bullshit reason and you never even tried to explain what had been going on between you and my mother.” His eyes turned to slits. “And the next time I happen to see you, you’re wrapped up in my competitor’s arms and his tongue is ten feet down your throat. You saying ‘I’m sorry’ is supposed to fix that? I haven’t been able to think about another woman, let alone date one since you left me. Yet, here you are with Damien Edwards, damn near having sex on the beach.”
“It’s not what you think...” I tried not to cry. “I was wishing he was you the entire time.”
“So you did fuck him?” He hissed. “Because if he were me, that’s exactly what you would be doing.”
“No...”
He rolled his eyes. “It took everything I had not to drag you out of that room at the opening ball, Claire. You’re lucky some of my investors are here because if they weren’t, I swear to God I would’ve grabbed you by your—”
“Jonathan—”
“Your nerve is un-fucking-believable. If I wasn’t so angry with you, I’d fuck you right here so you could feel exactly how—”