“Dance with me, Cinderella,” he said, handing my glass to Imogen.
I laughed as Casey dragged me to an impromptu dance floor on the rooftop. Appropriately, ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” played on the iPod docking station. In that moment I was thankful for the dance lessons I took in college. Casey was quite the twinkle toes as he spun and dipped me with expertise. The flimsy skirt of my yellow dress floated up high, and I silently patted my back for choosing the simple white panties rather than the lacy yellow thong I had almost stepped into. After a final dip, the music changed to Frankie Valli’s “Oh What A Night” and I was skillfully swung into Lionel’s waiting arms. I barely noticed Belle and Rod dancing and laughing at our side as I laughed with a lighthearted joy I hadn’t felt since before my dad passed away. Lionel turned us and all thoughts or worries were spun right out of my mind and nothing but a melancholic sense of happiness and belonging settled into my heart—home. It had been a word that had eluded me for most of my life. My home with my father didn’t really feel like home. When he was there physically, he was rarely there mentally, his thoughts wrapped and held hostage to the pages of his books. Bradley’s family took me in often and tried to help me settle into something that should have resembled normal, but it wasn’t normal, it wasn’t my home. It was simply a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in. I had lived on campus while at college, and once I had graduated, I flitted between my dad’s house and Bradley’s until Dad passed away. Then I spent a considerable amount of time drowning in sorrow, surrounded by the memories of an absent father. Now, here in New York, in SoHo, I felt as if I had finally found my place. When the music led into something slower, I found my chance to escape. Decker stood alone, watching me with a small smile.
“What?” I asked, checking to make sure my dress had remained in place following one of the spins.
“Old Andi wouldn’t have done that,” he said, a tone of awe in his voice.
I shrugged. “I’m still that same ol’ Andi, I just grew up.”
Decker’s eyes remained on mine, and the intense emotion behind them combined with the champagne was blurring my reasons for not wanting Decker. When Vanessa called his name and his attention easily left me for her, I remembered. Heartbreak, that’s what Decker represented. I turned my attention back to the small group of people dancing before us. Lionel and Casey were trying and failing miserably to show Bruce how to dance. Belle and Rod were dancing quietly, while gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Imogen looked incredibly uncomfortable as Vanessa tried to seductively dirty dance at her back, her gaze settling on Decker every chance she got as she tried to coax him onto the dance floor. He was staunch with his no, remaining by my side.
“She’s a little peculiar,” he said idly.
“Really, how so?”
“She kept humming Dolly Parton’s ‘Nine To Five’. It was creeping me out.”
“At least she’s got good taste in music,” I said, smiling. Vanessa’s hands ran up her ribs and over her breasts, all the while watching Decker with lustful hunger. “Subtle,” I murmured.
Decker chuckled and nudged me with his arm. “What’s up, Country? You jealous?”
“Hardly, it’s just some women have no shame. I mean, does she really think that looks hot?” I balked as Vanessa ground her hips against Imogen who tried to step away from her randy, horn dog dance.
“It is,” Decker said matter-of-factly.
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe to a womanizer like you, but real men, the ones that aren’t afraid of settling down, they wouldn’t be into that. They prefer confident women who are happy to be understated and low maintenance, because that,” I pointed at Vanessa who was now doing some god-awful Dirty Dancing maneuver, “is just embarrassing.” Decker actually looked a little annoyed at my words. He was still smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“So, just because I’m not ready to settle down, I’m not a real man?”
I waved off his question. “Oh, I have no doubt you are all man, Decker, don’t worry your pretty head about that.” I let my eyes do a slow perusal of his body. Yep, all man there. Decker gave me a cocky smile. How easily his wounded manhood was pacified. And I say again, men, such simple creatures.
Suddenly Vanessa was peeling off her spaghetti strap top to reveal a pretty red lace bra underneath. “Wooooahhhh,” I said, my eyes the size of saucers. Decker’s gaze zeroed in on the woman undressing.