by B. N. Hale
She made him nervous.
Jackson appeared in his door and leaned against the frame while he ate his standard dinner, a bowl of cereal. Tall and athletic, Jackson played soccer, basketball, lacrosse, and pretty much any sport he could find. His girlfriend was just as competitive as he was, leading to both fun and fighting between them.
“Who are you going with this week?” Jackson asked.
“Sara on Friday.”
Jackson began to speak, nearly spilling milk down his chin. “Why don’t you call Kate back? We both know you like her.”
“And what makes you think that?” Reed asked with a smile.
“Because you haven’t called her.”
Reed swept his hands wide. “And that means I like her?”
“You’re afraid of her.”
Stung, he frowned. “You think I’m afraid? I date three times a week. I’m not afraid.”
“Then call her,” he said.
Reed picked up his phone and made to dial Kate’s number but hesitated, his finger on send. Jackson issued a triumphant laugh and turned away, returning to the kitchen to refill his bowl. Reed stared at his phone like it was a foreign object. With a sigh he looked at the calendar, to the 14th of February, Valentine’s Day.
Reed was a teacher’s assistant when he’d met Kate’s roommate, Marta. She’d heard of Reed’s dating habits, and approached him to go out with Kate. She’d been insistent that it be Valentine’s Day, which he usually took off from his dating hobby. But Marta had proved impossible to refuse.
“Are you a virgin?” Kate had asked halfway through the date.
He smiled, recalling her expression, the hint of a smile, the sparkle of suspicion in her eyes. She’d suspected him to be dishonest at first, thinking his words a ploy to seduce her. But he adhered to his first rule with absolute regard—even when she’d almost kissed him. Others had tried to, but with Kate it had been different. He’d wanted to kiss her.
He stared at her name on the calendar, the four letters scrawled in his nearly illegible handwriting. He recalled the date in his mind, trying to convince himself that he’d merely gotten caught up in the magic he’d been trying to create. But if that was true, why did she make him nervous?
Realizing Jackson was right, he released a sigh and sank into the chair at his desk. He was attracted to Kate, and that very reason stopped him from asking her out again. Shaking himself, he turned to the next few days, determined to cast Kate from his mind.
The doorbell rang and he leaned back to see who was there. The house they lived in was small and contained two bedrooms, each facing the living room. Adjacent to the living room was the kitchen and a bathroom on opposite sides. From his bedroom he saw Jackson open the door, still with his bowl of cereal in hand.
“Is Reed here?”
“Come in,” Jackson said, waving vaguely toward the bedroom and then raising his voice. “It’s for you!”
Reed put down his pencil and left his room, stepping into the living room to greet the girl. It took a moment before he recognized her as Kate’s roommate, Ember. Slim and short, she had fiery red hair and an intimidating gaze.
“Ember, right?”
The girl smiled, revealing gratitude that he’d remembered her name. But her expression bore a touch of mischief as well. She reached into her pocket and withdrew an envelope which she handed to him.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“An invitation.”
“An invitation for what?”
“How does it feel to be the one in the dark?” Ember said. She smirked and left, laughing as she shut the door.
Jackson poked his head into the living room. “What just happened?”
“I’m not sure,” Reed replied, opening the envelope.
He unfolded the paper to find an invitation. A slow smile spread on his face as he read it, and then reread it. In all his dating, he’d never once had a girl ask him on a date, and the prospect sent a thrill of excitement through his chest.
Reed Hansen
You are invited to a night in the past. Attire is semi-formal and your arrival is expected promptly at 6:00. Dance shoes are recommended.
Kate
On the back of the card was an address for a location downtown. He frowned, trying to recall what was there. Aside from a few gas stations and warehouses, the area was not the usual date destination.
“You’d better get ready,” Jackson said. “You’ve only got thirty minutes.”
Reed turned to find Jackson’s expression now smug. “You knew about this?”
“It’s possible a certain lady asked for my assistance,” he replied. “And who am I to resist?”
Reed leveled the paper at him in accusation. “You told me to keep tonight free so I could help you with your homework.”
“I did?” Jackson screwed up his face in mock confusion. “I must have gotten the nights wrong. I have a game with Shelby tonight.”
“Traitor,” Reed said.
Jackson smirked and used his spoon to point at Reed’s door. “I’d suggest you wear a button up and a vest.”
“You know what I’m doing,” he realized.
“I know nothing,” he said with a sniff. “You’d better get going.”
Reed plied him for answers, but Jackson merely ate his cereal with a smile on his face. Realizing he didn’t have time to wait for an answer, Reed hurried to his room. Then he looked at the invitation again, the words eliciting a thread of excitement. He had no idea what Kate had planned, and he wondered if this is what his dates might feel.
He dressed in black slacks, a vest, and the dance shoes he’d picked up for a date a few months ago. Then he cinched a red tie and stepped into the living room. Shelby had arrived while he was getting ready and she whistled at his appearance.
“Who’s your date this time?”
Nearly as tall as Jackson, Shelby was dressed in basketball shorts and a jersey for their intramural team. With brown hair and brown eyes, she was attractive and forceful, a combination that appealed to Jackson from the moment he’d met her—the night Reed had taken her out.
Jackson laughed as he laced his basketball sneakers. “She asked him.”
“Oh?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with sudden interest. “Do tell.”
“Later,” Jackson said, standing up to kiss her. “Our game starts in an hour.”
“We’ll be here when you get back,” she said to Reed. “I expect full details.”
“I’ll dish like a teenage girl,” Reed said, causing them both to laugh.
Reed grinned and picked up his keys. Slipping out the door, he strode to his Camry and coaxed it to life. Then he pulled out of his parking spot and drove to the highway, taking the exit to downtown Boulder.
The GPS on his phone brought him to a section of the city south of downtown. Just as he remembered, the place was nearly empty, with warehouses interspersed with the occasional gas station or market.
He found the address and pulled into a packed parking lot. At odds with the area, the people standing outside the building were equally as dressed up, with suits and vintage dresses in abundance.
He didn’t bother locking his car and strode to the entrance, threading his way through the older couples. The music wafting from the interior came from a different era, and he paused to examine the sign above the door.
The Big Band Ballroom
Intrigued, he passed an older couple and swung the door open, finding himself in a ballroom straight out of the 1950s. A full jazz band played on a stage while a collection of older couples danced with surprising vigor and style.
Grey-haired women rotated on the dance floor, their dresses twirling and spinning. Men in suits and ties caught their hands and lead, their feet skipping across the floor, never missing a beat.
Mirrors on the walls made the repurposed warehouse seem gigantic, and reflected the muted lighting to set a romantic atmosphere. Aged pictures hung from the non-mirrored walls, their black and white prints
depicting dancing couples.
Then the woman singing on the stage spotted him and swept a hand to the band, cutting them off. The dancers on the floor came to a stop and applauded, but she waved for silence, and once the noise dimmed she pointed to Reed at the door.
“We have a new guest with us tonight,” she said, a smile spreading on her wrinkled face. “Reed, I presume? You’re right on time.”
All eyes turned to Reed, the shorter couples craning to get a look at him. One man cursed when his view was blocked, and his wife shushed him. Reed smiled and offered a short bow, and then swept his hands at the gathering of dancers.
“Can anyone point me in the direction of my date?” he asked.
“She’s already on the dance floor,” the elderly woman at the microphone replied.
She pointed to the bass player and he began to pluck the strings, setting a slow and inviting tone. The sax player joined in, and a moment later the rest of the band added their music. The couples began to dance and spin, their motions parting the way for Reed to spot a figure standing at the center of the ballroom.
Wearing a flowing red dress, Kate smiled when their eyes met. He’d thought her beautiful before, but this time she took his breath away. Her dark hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her dress, her shoes sparkling and sleek.
He grinned and made his way to her, weaving between couples dancing swing like they were in their twenties. Several of the men were old enough to be Reed’s grandfather, and they winked and gave knowing nods.
“Go get her, tiger,” one said.
Reed grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He reached Kate and she offered her hand. “I’m guessing you know how to dance,” she said.
“A fair assumption,” he replied.
“Then may I have this dance?”
“Doesn’t the guy do the asking?”
“Not this time,” she said, her smile positively wicked. “This time I’m in charge.”
He took her hand. “Do I get to lead?”
Kate’s green eyes sparkled. “I’ll allow it,” she said. “But only if you can sweep me off my feet . . .”
###
Thank you for reading Volume 1 of 27 Dates. You can find Volume 2 on Amazon here.
Author Bio
Originally from Utah, Ben has grown up with a passion for learning. While still young, he practiced various sports, became an Eagle Scout, and taught himself to play the piano. As a teenager he began creative dating and continued the practice into college, where he took a break to do volunteer work in Brazil. After school, he launched his first series, The Chronicles of Lumineia, and has since published over 20 titles across multiple genres. He loves to snowboard, build treehouses, and play board games, especially with his family. His greatest support and inspiration comes from his wonderful wife and six beautiful children. Currently he resides in Missouri while working on his Masters in Professional Writing.
To contact the author, discover more about 27 Dates, or find out about the upcoming sequels, check out his website at 27Dates.com. You can also follow the author on twitter @27Dates or Facebook.
