Not Your Match

by Lindzee Armstrong

  She gripped his hand, pushing back against his lead. Ben grabbed her around the waist and threw her down in a low dip, then spun her back into his arms. He saw the surprise on her face, felt it as she stumbled once before quickly regaining her footing. And then he saw the spark in her eyes as she realized that tonight, he was giving the dance his all.

  She increased the sway in her hips and quickened her footwork. She danced around him, and he grabbed her hands and pulled her under his legs before spinning her back out. She arched back in an arabesque and he ran a hand up her leg before pulling her in again.

  He couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive.

  The song ended but Ben didn’t let Andi go. Her chest heaved as she gasped, and Ben’s heart race as he panted for air. He wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t danced regularly in a long time, or because the smell of her coconut lip gloss drove him crazy.

  Slowly, Andi raised her eyes to his. “I’ve got to take a break,” she breathed.

  He rested his forehead against hers, his hands loosely at her waist. Her body fit against his so perfectly. “Want a drink?”

  She nodded.

  He couldn’t help it—he dropped a soft kiss on her forehead before releasing her. “Go find us a table and I’ll get you whatever you want.” He had to put some distance between them before he lost his mind.

  Ben fought his way through the crowd at the bar, the music drowning out everything else. He shouted his order to the bartender, and then wove his way back to Andi, drinks in hand. He set a glass in front of her and sank into a chair. The tables were filled, and Ben leaned his head close to Andi’s so he could hear her speak.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking a long sip. She reached up, pulling her hair off her neck for a moment before letting it fall back around her shoulders. Ben swallowed hard. “I haven’t hit the dance floor that hard since college. I’m out of shape.”

  She had felt exactly the right shape in his arms. “It feels good to get back to dancing.”

  Andi’s eyes shyly met his. “It feels good to have my favorite dance partner back.” She downed the rest of her drink, and Ben did the same.

  He stood and held out his hand. “Ready to get back out there?”

  Andi nodded, and he led her back to the dance floor.

  “The tango?” Andi asked.

  Ben pulled her into position and led her into their first step. She wrapped her leg around his torso and he pulled her close. Her eyes blazed under the flickering glow of the dance floor lights, and Ben thought he might spontaneously ignite. He dipped her so low her hair brushed the floor, then brought her back up and lead her back into the steps.

  For hours they danced everything from the cha-cha to the rumba. Andi’s skin gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat, and Ben’s breathing was rough and labored. Their bodies were in perfect sync through the dance, and Andi’s movements told him something her lips hadn’t yet said.

  She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The knowledge intoxicated him.

  Another song ended, and Andi pulled herself close. “I’m starving,” she said, her lips almost brushing his ear. “Should we go eat?”

  “Sure,” he said. He would give her anything she asked for. “What did you have in mind?”

  “There’s an Italian bistro about a block away. We could walk.” She fanned herself with one hand. Someone passed by with a cigarette and she brushed the smoke out of her face and coughed.

  “Sounds great,” Ben said. He pulled her through the crowd. She pressed herself against his back, her breath hot and heavy on his neck. He tightened his grip on her hand and pushed his way through the crush of people, his body a barrier clearing the way for her.

  Ben pushed open the doors and they tumbled outside, the cool air rushing to meet them. The sounds of traffic and crashing waves were oddly muffled after the overpowering noise of the club.

  Andi pulled her hair up and let out a contented sigh. “Oh, that feels wonderful.”

  “It was pretty hot in there,” Ben said. His voice was rough with emotion, and he ran a hand through his hair, struggling to regain control. Dinner was good. He needed to put a little distance between them before he lost his mind completely “I didn’t realize how hungry I am. Which way is this amazing pasta?”

  Andi pointed down the boardwalk, and he fell into step beside her. He ached to hold her hand, but he wasn’t sure if that was okay. What did tonight mean for her?

  “We should take a walk down by the beach after dinner,” Andi said.

  Ben shot her a quick look, then shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t look too eager. “Yeah. That’d be fun.”

  They passed by a bar, and music and laughter streamed out. The souvenir shop next door had closed for the night, but Ben saw the glowing sign of an Italian bistro in the distance.

  His phone buzzed, the ringtone out of place in the still night air.

  Andi motioned to his pocket. “Are you gonna get that?”

  Ben would strangle whoever was calling him. He pulled it out, ready to dismiss the number. But then he saw who it was. Barbara.

  What had Whitney done now?

  He stared at the number as the phone rang again. His finger reached out, ready to dismiss the call. But what if something had happened? He’d never forgive himself for not answering.

  “I better take this,” Ben muttered. Andi smiled, not seeming bothered. He swiped his finger across the screen right before it went to voice mail. “Hello?”

  “I’m really sorry to bother you,” Barbara said. Her voice was tremulous, as though she was barely holding back tears. “It’s Whitney. We drove down the day before New Year’s Eve and she seemed to be doing better. But when we woke up the next morning, she’d left a note saying she needed to do something. We’ve called all her friends, checked all her usual spots. But we can’t find her anywhere. The police won’t list her as missing since she left a note.”

  He couldn’t believe Whitney had lied to him—again. He couldn’t believe she’d worried her parents sick—again. But what surprised him most of all was that it had taken Barb nearly two weeks to call him.

  “She’s here,” Ben said. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve called you. But she said you knew she was coming. She said you encouraged her.”

  “Oh my gosh.” He heard the tremors in Barbara’s voice, the sign of crying she couldn’t hide. “Is she okay?”

  “For the moment.” He glanced at Andi, whose eyes had that guarded look back. The one that had taken him all night to erase. “I think she’s still off her medications. She’s showing signs of being in a manic phase, but I haven’t noticed anything too extreme yet.” Even after they’d had a few major arguments. “She’s staying at Rachel’s.”

  “What is she doing there? Are you two back together?”

  Another glance at Andi. She was paying very close attention to the window display of the tourist shop. “That’s why she came back, but it’s not going to happen. I’m sorry, Barb.”

  She exhaled a loud breath. “I’m glad she’s safe. We’ve been worrying ourselves nearly to death.”

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. He hated the fear in her voice, the worry and anxiety threaded through every word. He’d felt all those same emotions more times than he cared to remember.

  It didn’t have to be this way. A future that would never be his flashed before him—he and Whitney, happily married with a couple of children. The image was gone almost before it fully materialized.

  “I’ll keep you updated,” Ben said. “And I’ll talk to Whitney tomorrow and tell her to give you a call.”

  “We would really appreciate that,” Barbara said. “Thank you.”

  Ben said his goodbyes and hung up. The air chilled instead of soothed now, biting at his skin

  “Who was that?” Andi asked, her voice flat. The light was gone from her eyes.

  “Whitney’s mom. They didn’t know where she was and got worried.” He dropped his phone back in his pocket, his eyes ne
ver leaving hers.

  “Oh.” She turned away. “There’s the sign for the restaurant. We should probably eat fast so we can get home at a decent hour. I’ve got a lot of work I should go through tomorrow.”

  An entire evening of getting Andi to loosen up. An entire evening of trying to convince her he was over Whitney and ready to move on. Gone because of a two-minute phone call.

  She’d been an idiot to let Ben talk her into going dancing.

  Andi threw her shoes in the general direction of her closet and sank onto her bed, her limbs liquid with exhaustion. As Ben had twirled her around the dance floor, she’d convinced herself he was ready to leave Whitney behind, and that Andi was ready to take a risk on love. But then he’d answered the phone call from Whitney’s mom, and Andi had watched the agitation in his expression, the obvious worry over his ex-fiancée, and her stomach had filled with dread. And then he’d said he would talk to Whitney, and Andi knew he wasn’t ready to leave the past behind.

  Andi spent Sunday working on case briefs, trying to distract herself from thoughts of Ben. She didn’t sleep well that night and went to the office early on Monday. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well get a head start on the day.

  The office was mostly quiet when Andi arrived. She unlocked her office door and flipped on the light.

  And there, sitting in the middle of her desk, was Mark’s box. The one she’d been unable to mail for the past four months.

  Andi strode over to her desk and yanked the box off, setting it back in its place near her bookcase. The industrial tan carpet showed vacuum lines, and her bookcase was devoid of dust and her trash can empty. The janitor must’ve moved the box when cleaning and forgotten to return it to the floor.

  Andi gave the box a satisfying kick and one of the cardboard sides crumpled inward under her toe. Andi straightened her tailored jacket, feeling better. She turned on her computer and flipped through the files one of the secretaries had set on her desk last night.

  Her eyes slowly skittered from the divorce decree she needed to review back to the box. The box she had stubbornly clung to, unable to let go.

  Andi growled and set down the divorce decree. She booted up her email and started wading through her inbox. The box was just a box, and she hadn’t purposefully avoided mailing it. She’d simply been busy.

  Besides, why should Mark get his stuff back? He’d left her for another woman. Thrown their relationship back in her face and told her seven years together was worth less to him than a crush on the rookie reporter. She should drop that box off at the dumpster, not the post office.

  She replied to the most urgent emails and deleted the office-wide ones that didn’t apply to her.

  Her eyes drifted back to the box, like two magnets pulled together. She yanked the divorce decree toward her and grabbed a red pen. She didn’t have time for this. Mark didn’t deserve her time. She made a few notations in the document, mostly correcting small errors.

  It wasn’t like Mark had been missing his sweatshirt all these months, even if it was his favorite one.

  Why wouldn’t the box stop staring at her?

  Andi slapped the file down on her desk and yanked her purse out of a desk drawer. She wouldn’t get any work done until she got that dang thing out of her office. She grabbed the box and shut her door.

  Andi strode purposefully down the hallway, but slowed when she saw Holly coming toward her. “Hey,” Holly said. “I was just coming to find you. The Bearded Dragon couple finally reached an agreement. The final prenup should be in your inbox for approval. They want to come by today and sign.”

  “Okay.” Andi shifted the box and pulled out her phone, checking her calendar. “I can do three o’clock.”

  “That works for me too. I’ll see if Trevor and Deborah are available.” Holly pointed to the box. “You heading down to the mail center?”

  “Post office. I’m mailing this one on my own time.”

  Holly nodded. “I’ll send you a message when I hear back from the Bearded Dragon couple.”

  Even the Bearded Dragon couple could move on from the past. They’d finally put aside their differences and reached an agreement. But Andi had stubborn clung to Mark, even though she no longer wanted him.

  The box felt like lead in her arm. Andi dropped it in the front seat of her car and angrily slammed the door.

  She had every right to be upset about the breakup. What Mark had done was horrible.

  Andi gripped the steering wheel, the music turned up to the maximum volume. But it couldn’t drown out the thoughts swirling through her head. She remembered the hurt that had sliced through her when Mark told her he was moving to New York. She’d discussed her post-graduation career plans with him at length, but he hadn’t so much as mentioned his job offer until all the paperwork was signed.

  He’d always assumed he knew what Andi wanted. Or maybe he just hadn’t cared. He’d make weekend plans for the two of them without consulting her, then after she’d rearranged her schedule to make it work, he’d cancel at the first whisper of getting a scoop on a hot story. It had taken their breakup for her to realize she’d been more invested in their relationship than he’d ever been. The result was him riding off into the sunset with another woman while she held the broken pieces of her heart, wondering how she’d ever put them back together.

  Andi jerked into a parking space at the post office. She grabbed the box and got out of her car, looking up at the dated brick building. She gripped the cardboard tight, her fingers pressing against the rough paper.

  The automatic doors slid open, and Andi took her place at the back of the line. The building was unnervingly quiet, the voices of the post office employees a gentle rumble that echoed in the open room. She breathed in deeply, the scent of ink and paper strong in the air. It reminded her of the hours she and Mark had spent at the library in college, snuggled close as they stole kisses in between study sessions. He’d never complained about the long hours she spent on homework or the time it took away from them. He’d encouraged her every step of the way. Before taking the LSATs, she’d been terrified she hadn’t worked hard enough and wouldn’t get accepted into law school. Mark had brought her caffeinated drinks and stayed awake with her while she studied every day for a solid month before the test. He’d quizzed her as they walked to class and assured her that she would do great.

  Andi moved forward in the line, her grip relaxing on the box. She’d forgotten about those moments until now. Let her anger over the breakup push away the encouraging notes he’d leave on the bathroom mirror on days she was in court, or the way he’d sometimes bring takeout to the office on Saturday nights when she had to work.

  For the first time since the breakup, Andi allowed the betrayal to slip away and looked at their relationship objectionably. There had been rocky times—lots of them. But they’d also shared a lot of good times together, and Mark had helped shape her into who she was. He’d known how to push her to excellence, how to encourage her when she wanted to quit. He’d been a good boyfriend, even through their breakup. He could’ve cheated on her with his New York flame, and with an entire country between them, she might never have found out. But he’d done the right thing and confessed his feelings, then let her go.

  “Next.”

  Andi stepped forward and set the box on the counter. “I need to send this to New York.”

  The post office employee pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded, setting the box on the scale.

  Andi was mad at Ben for not being able to move past Whitney. But Andi had been clinging to Mark all along.

  Andi paid the postage and watched as the employee printed off the label. He slapped it on the box, then tossed the box onto the conveyor belt behind him. Andi watched as the box turned the corner and slipped out of sight.

  “Next,” the employee said.

  Andi stepped away from the counter, turning her back on the box. She rolled her shoulders, feeling oddly light. Her relationship with Mark had been a lot of pl
uses and minuses. But in the end, even knowing the ultimate outcome, she wouldn’t change a thing. Now she could finally see that it had been worth the risk.

  She left the post office without a backward glance.

  On Tuesday, Andi spent the afternoon in court, so she texted Ben that she’d meet him at the studio for class. They hadn’t talked since the awkward end to their not-a-date on Saturday night, and she hoped the new dance shoes would be a good apology.

  Court got out earlier than Andi had anticipated, and she arrived at the studio with time to spare. Elle wasn’t at the front desk, but the person there told Andi she could use one of the bathrooms to change.

  The common room was crowded with teens playing ping-pong and doing homework. Andi waved to a girl she recognized from class, feeling oddly at home here. When she shut the door to the studio, all sounds faded away. Andi plugged in her phone, set it to her favorite playlist, and started stretching. Her muscles sighed with pleasure as she flexed her feet, grabbing them with her hands.

  Footsteps echoed across the laminate and she tensed. They stopped right behind her, and Ben’s deep voice said, “Hey.”

  Andi looked up, giving him a tentative smile. “Hi.”

  He set his gym bag on the ground and slowly sank to the floor, eyebrow raised as though waiting for her to stop him. “You’re here early.”

  “Court got out sooner than expected.” She spread her legs into the splits and leaned forward, her body almost perpendicular to the ground. “How was class today?”

  “Great. I gave my students another assessment and they’re all improving. How was court?”

  She hated the careful way they now spoke to each other, the polite distance between them.

  “Mostly boring.” She sat up, pulling an arm behind her head. “I did see someone rush the judge in one of the cases before mine, and the bailiff had to cuff him. That was interesting.”

  “You call that a boring day at court?”

  Andi shrugged. “Nothing surprises me anymore.” She rose, going over to her gym bag, and withdrew the box of shoes. She’d even taken the time to wrap them. She stared at the box, then took a deep breath and handed it to Ben. “I got you a present.”