Kiss the Bride
Page 6
He was sitting with Dana at one of the small tables on the romantically lit balcony overlooking the dance floor. Dana was entranced by the dancing couples below. Josh realized that under the romantic, changing lights, she’d be amazed he was even able to master walking. The guys on the dance floor were moving their hips as suggestively as the women, yet there was no doubt who was in control. What had he been thinking? They should’ve gone dancing at some generic club. His dancing wouldn’t be much better there, but at least he could count on one or two other guys to be as incompetent as he was. It wouldn’t be as humiliating as what was about to come.
“This is the best mojito I’ve ever had,” Dana said, sipping her drink happily. She looked so relaxed that for a moment, Josh’s apprehension fled and the only thing left was appreciation for the smart, beautiful woman beside him. She was a knockout in a red halter dress and killer heels, her hair pinned up. He’d never been out with a woman this gorgeous in his life.
“Cuban rum,” Josh explained. “The best. Drink it slow—they make ’em pretty potent down here, and if you’re not used to it, you’ll find yourself seeing three of everything pretty fast.”
Dana laughed appreciatively. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Her attention returned to the dance floor—specifically to Eduardo and his cousin, Donna. Josh watched enviously as the two of them twirled effortlessly. Dana was wide-eyed as she turned back to Josh. “They’re amazing.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, everyone in here is amazing.”
Dana looked worried. “I know.”
“You sure you don’t want to get out of here, find some place we can waltz?”
Dana smiled weakly. “I think once we get the swing of things ... .”
“Your call.”
Dana looked mildly deflated. The woman wants to dance, you ass. She wants a taste of local flavor.
Josh drained what was left of his mojito and stood, extending his hand to her. “Okay. Let’s go for it.”
Dana hesitated a moment, then rose. “Okay.”
Josh could feel Dana’s trepidation as they slowly walked down the balcony steps and he led her out onto the dance floor, picking a spot along the perimeter where he hoped their ineptitude wouldn’t draw too much attention. His eyes scoured the room. Bodies in motion, perfect moves. You can do this. You’ve been to places like this many times, you know how it goes ... theoretically.
Josh took Dana’s hand. Trying to look confident, he moved in imitation of some of the men on the floor, putting his left foot forward. Dana moved her right foot forward, crushing his toes with the spike of her heel.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Josh assured her, biting back a grimace of pain. He directed her attention back to the dance floor. “I think when I step forward with my left, you step back with your right.”
“Then we both come back to center,” Dana continued, studying the dance floor, “and then do the opposite ... I think.”
“Yeah.”
They joined together again, managing the first steps correctly: Josh forward, Dana back. But when it came to doing the same move on the opposite foot, Dana, clearly overwhelmed by the expertise all around her, made the same mistake and spiked him.
Dana looked mortified. “I’m such an idiot!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Josh looked at the sexy high heels that were making pulp of his toes. “You wear those at work? Aren’t they a bit high?”
Dana looked sheepish. “I don’t wear them at work. When we decided we were definitely going salsa dancing, I looked online to see what to wear, and the website said sexy high heels.”
Josh leaned in and kissed her neck. “They are sexy. The dress, too. Especially the dress.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Dana purred.
Josh hated to admit defeat, and so soon, too. But if their attempts at salsa so far were a harbinger of the rest of the evening, he’d be in the emergency room by midnight with mangled feet.
Josh put his arm around her shoulder. “Look, I hate to say this, but I think we’re in way over our heads here.”
“I know.” Dana looked guilty. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to take me dancing.”
“You didn’t push me to do anything. I’m a big boy. If I really didn’t want to be here, we wouldn’t be here. I wanted to make you happy.”
Dana kissed his shoulder lightly. “You did.”
“Hey, hey! What’s going on here? Where are the sexy moves, Green?”
Josh flashed his smirking friend a dirty look.
“We’re hopeless,” Dana told Eduardo before Josh had a chance to, “hopeless” not being the word he would have picked. She winced. “I keep stepping on Josh’s toes.”
“It’s not just you,” Josh admitted. “I’m not exactly Marc Anthony myself.”
“C’mon, I’ll show you some steps,” Eduardo encouraged Dana. He looked at Josh to see if it was okay.
“Go for it.” Smug as Eduardo was, Josh thanked God he was there to save the day. Even if he was showing Dana just a few basic steps, at least she’d be dancing a little.
Eduardo smiled at Dana. “It’s all a matter of feeling the rhythm in your body.”
Dana looked mildly embarrassed. “Okay.”
Before Josh got a chance to be a gentleman and offer Eduardo’s cousin a drink, she looked up at him apologetically and said, “I’d keep you company, but I promised someone else a dance.”
“No problem. I’ll go order myself another mojito and see how the dance master here”—he tilted his head in Eduardo’s’s direction—“does.”
Eduardo extended his arm for Dana to take. “Watch and learn, my friend.”
Josh didn’t watch and learn. He watched and grew pissed. Dana’s lesson started off okay: she seemed uneasy at first, but Eduardo was a patient, easygoing guy. As she grew in confidence, she began to lighten up and smile.
The problem started when Eduardo came to the “feeling the rhythm” portion of the lesson. Like every guy in the place, his hips swiveled easily as well as sensually—no problem there, except Josh didn’t like the way Eduardo was looking at Dana while he demonstrated. Dana copied him, but her movements came nowhere near Eduardo’s in terms of smoothness, at least not at first. But the longer Eduardo tutored, the more she loosened up.
Eduardo was standing behind Dana, and with his hands placed squarely on her hips, the two of them moved in rhythm. It was at that point Josh decided he’d punch Eduardo’s fucking face in. Striding out onto the dance floor, he shoved his friend’s shoulder. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Eduardo blinked. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m teaching your—friend—how to dance.”
Dana looked appalled. “Josh, what’s going on?”
Eduardo held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I was just showing her how to dance.”
Josh was in his face. “Really? You sure looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
Eduardo looked at him like he was an idiot. “Of course I was enjoying myself, you moron! I love to dance, and it’s fun teaching someone else. Chill out, man.”
“No, he’s going to do more than chill out.” Dana was furious. “He’s going to get out of here and leave me alone.”
Josh was astonished. “What?”
“How dare you come over here acting like you own me?” Dana fumed. She turned to Eduardo. “Can you give me a lift home when you’re done for the evening? I don’t mind waiting. I can catch up on some e-mail on my phone.”
Eduardo squirmed. “Dana, you’re putting me in a very uncomfortable position here.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.” She gave Eduardo a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for my short but fun lesson. You’re everything a teacher should be: patient and kind. Very patient.”
Eduardo smiled appreciatively. “You’re welcome.” As Dana walked away, Eduardo looked at Josh in disbelief. “Smooth.”
<
br /> “We’ll talk about this at work,” Josh replied, in no mood to hear it.
He followed Dana back to their table, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Can I talk to you a minute?”
Dana pulled her shoulder away. “No. There’s nothing to say.”
She picked up her purse to leave, but Josh blocked her. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?”
“I guess that depends.”
“On what?”
Dana’s expression was arctic as she moved to sidestep him. “On whether or not you once dated a possessive macho asshole who was so insecure, he threatened every man who came within five feet of you. At least, that’s how it started out. It ended with me being the one who was threatened. Apparently, I was a cocktease.”
Josh didn’t know what to say.
“Maybe now you’ll understand why I have no use for macho bullshit. Excuse me, I have to call a cab.”
“Saturday night at this time of night? You’ll be waiting for hours. Let me drive you home.”
Josh held his breath, waiting for the verdict. He hoped she said yes, since he still had things he wanted to say, though she’d no doubt find them pathetic now.
“Fine,” Dana capitulated after what felt like an endless pause. “Drive me home.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Not the way I imagined the evening would end, Dana thought to herself wryly as she slid into the passenger seat of Josh’s car. Her assumption had been that she and Josh would drink mojitos, get a little buzzed, dance, then end the evening by tearing each other’s clothes off. Instead, she was being driven back to her grandparents’ by a swaggering, macho jerk who brought back terrible memories.
Dana leaned forward, turning up the AC so high her earrings were gently swinging. She glanced at Josh out of the corner of her eye. His expression was determined, and it had nothing to do with driving. “You still want to talk about this, don’t you?” she asked warily.
“Yeah, I do.”
Dana thought she’d made it obvious why their evening had ended so abruptly, but then she realized the info might sink in better if she broke it down into bite-sized pieces for him.
“Then let’s start by talking about Eduardo. You had no right to give him a hard time. He’s your friend, and he was doing me a favor. Who the hell do you think you are, acting so possessive? You’re not my boyfriend. And even if you were, you still wouldn’t have the right to swagger out onto the dance floor and act like some macho jerk. We’re not a couple, Josh.”
Josh’s eyes were glued to the road. “Yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.” Josh dialed the AC down a notch, turning slowly to look at her. “But I couldn’t help it. It was driving me crazy, the way you were laughing and moving with Eduardo.”
“Too bad. Do I really strike you as the type of woman who would go on a date with you, then turn around and flirt with your friend right in front of you?”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
Dana laughed harshly. “I’ve heard that line before. Trust me.”
“It’s not a line, Dana. I felt totally emasculated—not to mention jealous as hell.”
“Then you have a problem.”
Josh looked frustrated as he jerked the knob for the AC even lower. “I realize I had no right to feel or act possessive. But I did, okay? And I can’t take it back.”
“You embarrassed me. You embarrassed your friend. Worst of all, you embarrassed yourself.”
“Don’t hold back on how you feel or anything, Dana.”
Dana’s temper flared. “Don’t try to turn the tables and make me feel like I’m attacking you! Especially after I shared that charming little gem from my past with you!”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Josh muttered.
Dana took the AC up a notch. “You’re not my boyfriend Josh, you’re my ...”
“... fuck buddy,” Josh supplied dryly.
“If that’s the way you think of it, fine.”
Dana despised that expression. It made what they were doing sound so cheap. But that’s what they were, right? Fuck buddies? She preferred the less graphic phrase, “Friend with benefits.”
She looked out the car window, more worked up than she’d been in a long time. After their first night together, she’d thought they were both crystal-clear about their arrangement. Now Josh had muddied things.
“So, what do we do about this?”
Dana turned to look at him. His question was simple and direct—just the way she imagined an architect might respond. It wasn’t plaintive, or angry. Just a simple, “We have a problem, now let’s solve it” tone.
“I don’t know.”
Josh looked irritated. “Can you at least try to come up with a suggestion?” He waited. “Maybe elaborate on why you don’t ‘know’?”
“I don’t know,” Dana repeated stubbornly.
Josh revved the engine as they sat at a red light. “I need more than that.”
Dana struggled to collect her thoughts. “I like you,” she said as the light turned green and Josh peeled out. “But that macho thing tonight really put me off.”
“I already explained it to you. You’re a beautiful woman, Dana. Any guy who didn’t feel jealous of Eduardo belongs on a slab in the morgue.”
Dana considered this, trying to sort out how his oblique admission that he had feelings for her was really making her feel, beyond flattered. “I don’t know about that. But in any case, it would be nice if you apologized.”
“I’m not apologizing, because I’m not sorry.” His expression carried not the slightest hint of guilt. “I’m embarrassed. I feel like a prize asshole. But sorry? No.”
Dana peered at him with distaste. “You’re one of those jerks who can never say ‘I’m sorry,’ aren’t you?”
“I have no problem saying ‘I’m sorry’ when I am sorry. But I’m not.”
“I see.” Dana felt trapped. “You tell me you’re not sorry, and then you have the nerve to ask me what we’re going to do about this? It’s not obvious to you?”
“I’m not that guy from way back who hassled you, Dana. Somewhere deep down you know that, whether you’ll admit it to yourself or not.”
Dana felt as if someone had just shoved a handheld mirror in front of her face, and she turned to look out the passenger window. “That irrelevant, Josh. I’m flattered you find me attractive, but I’m only here for two more weeks. I don’t have time to deal with your emotional issues. We promised to keep things simple, and now they’re getting complicated. We should end this now.”
Josh considered this a moment. “You’re right. It’s the smart thing to do.”
Unjustified annoyance bored through Dana. He was supposed to protest her wanting to end things, or at least put up some minimal resistance to her suggestion. After all, he claimed to really like her.
“I’m glad you agree,” she told him coolly.
“I’m a reasonable person.”
No disputing that. But Dana felt he was bullshitting her. Maybe she just hoped that. Either way, the speed with which he’d agreed with her bugged the hell out of her.
Josh pulled up in front of her grandparents’ darkened condo. Now she had to come up with an excuse for why she was home so early. After all, she had a grandmother who had no compunction about barging in on her in the shower. For all Dana knew, her grandmother was already lying in wait, ready to strike.
Josh came around and opened the car door, ever the gentleman. Dana hated how uncomfortable she felt standing there.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you for ...”
“... a great mojito,” Josh said with a grim smile. “I’m sad that we’re not going to be spending time together the next couple of weeks, Dana. But I guess I understand where you’re coming from. Good luck with the launch of the store. I’m sure it’ll be a success.” He walked her to the front door, kissed her cheek, and drove off.
I usually don’t do this type of thing.
Now she knew why.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dana was relieved to find her grandmother wasn’t lying in wait to ambush her. The last thing she wanted to do was recount the events of her evening. She crept into bed, trying to escape into sleep.
The following morning, Dana left early to get to Palm Beach for the next round of interviews, successfully avoiding her grandmother again. She deliberately got home that evening when she knew her grandparents would be out to dinner. She left them a note on the kitchen table, telling them she had a splitting headache and she’d see them in the morning. Then she went into her bedroom, locked the door, and got down to work on her laptop.
Dana was going over inventory projections when she heard a rustling. She looked at the door: a slip of paper had been pushed beneath it. Dana stared at it a moment, then got up from the bed and retrieved it. It said:
I know you don’t have a headache. You can’t hide forever. Sooner or later you’re going to have to come out to pee or eat. I’ll be waiting.
Dana put her ear to the door. She thought she could hear her grandmother breathing on the other side. Dana’s mother had always complained that Grandma was never happy until she’d squeezed every last detail of her personal life out of her. Dana had always been skeptical, thinking it was just her mother picking on Grandma. Now she realized she owed her mother an apology.
Dana’s feet were silent on the silver shag rug as she tiptoed to the desk. Picking up a pen, she wrote back:
I don’t want to talk about it now.
She pushed the note under the door, knowing what was going to happen next. The note re-appeared. It said:
Ha! I knew you didn’t have a headache.
“Jesus Christ,” Dana snapped, unlocking the door. She flung it open so violently it hit the wall. “You’re right, I don’t have a headache. But you’re giving me one.”
Her grandmother gave her a look of warning. “You shouldn’t talk to me that way, Dana.”