She didn’t answer, but gazed over the railing at the intersection below.
I took a swig of wine. “Either that or he’s dead. But that’s so Hollywood movie because he would have had to have been killed in a way that either his body was never found or he was completely unrecognizable. Any unidentified man would be investigated and eventually come back to the missing Greg Barnes. Then, there’d be dental records comparison.”
“Watching a lot of Law and Order with your spare time now?”
“Oh, mostly just listening to Matt Reynolds, your friendly neighborhood homicide detective.”
“Hmm.” Sarah smiled thinly. “Is he single?”
I swatted at her. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
We ate at Sevilla, a sleek tapas bar that doubled as a flamenco nightclub. Sarah introduced me to culture, stripped of Sesame Street and Barney. We drank Sangria martinis. Unlike the previous night, the alcohol had a loosening effect. Warmth tingled in my arms and legs, and I suppressed the desire to get on the dance floor all through dinner. Possibly the day’s events were contributing to my rowdiness.
“I’ve never seen you like this.” Sarah shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should slow down.”
“Who’s the mom now?” I had no idea how to salsa. Loud Spanish music, glittering with castanets, thrummed in my ears. I tried to pull Sarah to her feet, but she resisted. I walked onto the dance floor alone. The other people ranged from professional flamenco dancers to simply talented dark-haired men and women. But there were no other Irish Catholics with two left feet. I immersed myself into the throng of hard bodies gyrating to the hypnotic music. I tried to focus on a woman near me and mimic her movements. After a few moments, I thought I looked pretty good.
“Where did you learn to salsa?” Sarah shouted from behind me.
I shrugged and pointed. “I didn’t. I’m following her!”
“Could have fooled me! You don’t look bad when you loosen up, Claire.” Sarah mimicked my moves, and before long, we were both sweating.
I felt a man’s hand slip around my waist. He pulled me to him, his lean body against my back. We moved to the music. Sensual and pulsating. He spun me around, and I caught a glimpse of his face: handsome, a tad older, dark skin, dark hair. I followed his lead, concentrating on my feet. He tightened his grip, and I lost my footing. He felt muscular in a way Greg never did—lean arms, firm chest, hard thighs. A dancer? Were there straight professional salsa dancers? I felt breathless. Most noticeably, I felt alive. The heady mixture of his cologne, sweat, and soap made my head spin. When the song ended, he kissed my hand, gave a little wave, and dissolved into the crowd. I turned to look for Sarah.
“Where’s your friend?” she teased.
I shrugged, and we made our way back to the table.
“Let’s go,” I said, reaching into my purse for my cell phone.
She knitted her eyebrows. “Where?”
“Where else?” I replied, giving her a small shrug and a wry smile. “Float.”
We found Will and Owen right where they said they’d be. They looked happy to see us, and I studied Will with new eyes, with new purpose. I saw the evening for what it would be before it happened. Will appraised me, smiling, probably sensing a different attitude. I was not the reserved, nervous, distracted Claire he had met the previous night. I flirted, fingertips resting lightly on his arm, and laughed at his jokes. As I drank more, I became bolder and touched his thigh, then his cheek. I leaned in to whisper in his ear and played with his hair.
He responded by softly trailing a hand down my arm, then my back. He kissed my bare neck, his lips pausing in the soft hollow of my collarbone, and I shuddered with barely contained anticipation. My insides twisted momentarily with guilt, not about Greg as a person, but for the vow I was going to break. And I was going to break it; I was sure of that. I’d known that since I’d stood on the street, hurling accusations at a man who had turned out not to be my husband. How am I different now? I wasn’t. I would be an adulterer, too.
Sarah gave a little wave and secured a spot on one of the plush satin couches with Owen, curled around him like a kitten.
I paid the bill and took Will’s hand. I led him to our room, where I hung the Do Not Disturb tag on the door, hoping Sarah would notice. We lay on my bed, and I kissed him fully, hard and insistent. Backing up, I slowly pulled my shirt up over my head, then shimmied my jeans down over my hips until I stood nude in front of him, shivering slightly from both the frosty hotel room air and the electrifying need to be touched.