couch. “Because we need to learn to dance together.”
Uh-oh. She did not like the sound of that. “No. I don’t dance, Zach.”
Standing upright, he wiped his forehead. “What do you mean, you don’t dance? Didn’t you go to the prom in high school, or any dance, for that matter? Didn’t you let loose in the military on your days off and hit the bars, break out into a little old school Footloose, YMC A , or Achy, Breaky Heart ?”
She studied him, seeing he teased her with his smile and expecting her to admit to some, or all, of what he’d listed. However, she couldn’t do that truthfully.
“No, I haven’t, Zach.”
His face fell, and disbelief took place of the playfulness. “Seriously?”
Taking a deep breath, she entered the room. “Zach, I moved a lot when I was a kid. I learned not to make friends, nor date anyone while I went through school. I stayed home from dances; I didn’t participate in after-school activities. I didn’t want to be close to anyone because I knew sooner or later, I would be leaving them. It became a coping mechanism while my father led us all over the globe, advancing his career.”
He hung his head. “Jesus, Ella. To me, it seems you’ve lived most of your life as a shut-in.” He looked her way. “It makes me really fucking sad for you.”
“I don’t want your pity, Zachary.”
“Of course you don’t.” He took a few steps toward her. “But here’s the thing. It looks like we’re going to sign on to go murder some douchebag. We need to make our cover as believable as possible. This is one of those hoity-toity events where people will be checking each other out. We need to do everything we can to convince people we belong there.”
“The people there are going to be blind.”
“But there will be those lucky bastards who can see, as well, and we need to impress them.”
“Zach, I—”
He took a couple more steps toward her and smiled while holding out his hand. “Trust me, Ella. With your beauty and my dashing good looks, we’ll look like we belong. We just need to put the finishing touches on it to convince everyone.”
She hesitated just for a second, then put her hand in his. He pulled her close so that they stood thigh-to-thigh and chest-to-chest. After placing her hand on his shoulder, he wrapped one arm around her waist and held her other hand.
“You’re awfully confident,” she murmured as they moved together. He hummed a tune she didn’t recognize.
“I have to be.”
“Why is that?”
He stopped, and she stared up at her reflection in his glasses. “Because the world is full of people who want to do nothing but tear you down. If your confidence is firmly in place, they can’t do it. It becomes impossible. Oh, they may put a chink or two in your armor, but they’ll never reach your heart.”
With that, he turned her, and resumed humming his tune. As their bodies moved together, she concentrated on every step. She certainly didn’t want to squash his foot.
Having never learned to dance, the whole experience made her nervous.
“Relax, Ella. Just move with me. Don’t think so hard about it. It’ll come naturally.”
“There’s nothing natural about this for me.”
He stopped. “Let’s put on some real music. Something mellow, something slow. Can you do that for us? Do we have anything like soft jazz? Or something soulful?”
Now that, she could do, as she loved soft soul music. She pulled out a CD from next to the stereo. Yes, it was totally old school, but she liked having CDs, especially of her favorite music. When she used the stereo, the music sounded all over the house through the built-in ceiling speakers in each room.
“How about some Erykah Badu?” she asked.
“Never heard of her.”
Ella grinned. “Oh, you’re missing out. She’s amazing.”
She pushed play on the CD, and the sound of ‘Window Seat’ wafted through the whole house. A beautiful-sounding, smooth tale of a woman who, in the end, just
Uh-oh. She did not like the sound of that. “No. I don’t dance, Zach.”
Standing upright, he wiped his forehead. “What do you mean, you don’t dance? Didn’t you go to the prom in high school, or any dance, for that matter? Didn’t you let loose in the military on your days off and hit the bars, break out into a little old school Footloose, YMC A , or Achy, Breaky Heart ?”
She studied him, seeing he teased her with his smile and expecting her to admit to some, or all, of what he’d listed. However, she couldn’t do that truthfully.
“No, I haven’t, Zach.”
His face fell, and disbelief took place of the playfulness. “Seriously?”
Taking a deep breath, she entered the room. “Zach, I moved a lot when I was a kid. I learned not to make friends, nor date anyone while I went through school. I stayed home from dances; I didn’t participate in after-school activities. I didn’t want to be close to anyone because I knew sooner or later, I would be leaving them. It became a coping mechanism while my father led us all over the globe, advancing his career.”
He hung his head. “Jesus, Ella. To me, it seems you’ve lived most of your life as a shut-in.” He looked her way. “It makes me really fucking sad for you.”
“I don’t want your pity, Zachary.”
“Of course you don’t.” He took a few steps toward her. “But here’s the thing. It looks like we’re going to sign on to go murder some douchebag. We need to make our cover as believable as possible. This is one of those hoity-toity events where people will be checking each other out. We need to do everything we can to convince people we belong there.”
“The people there are going to be blind.”
“But there will be those lucky bastards who can see, as well, and we need to impress them.”
“Zach, I—”
He took a couple more steps toward her and smiled while holding out his hand. “Trust me, Ella. With your beauty and my dashing good looks, we’ll look like we belong. We just need to put the finishing touches on it to convince everyone.”
She hesitated just for a second, then put her hand in his. He pulled her close so that they stood thigh-to-thigh and chest-to-chest. After placing her hand on his shoulder, he wrapped one arm around her waist and held her other hand.
“You’re awfully confident,” she murmured as they moved together. He hummed a tune she didn’t recognize.
“I have to be.”
“Why is that?”
He stopped, and she stared up at her reflection in his glasses. “Because the world is full of people who want to do nothing but tear you down. If your confidence is firmly in place, they can’t do it. It becomes impossible. Oh, they may put a chink or two in your armor, but they’ll never reach your heart.”
With that, he turned her, and resumed humming his tune. As their bodies moved together, she concentrated on every step. She certainly didn’t want to squash his foot.
Having never learned to dance, the whole experience made her nervous.
“Relax, Ella. Just move with me. Don’t think so hard about it. It’ll come naturally.”
“There’s nothing natural about this for me.”
He stopped. “Let’s put on some real music. Something mellow, something slow. Can you do that for us? Do we have anything like soft jazz? Or something soulful?”
Now that, she could do, as she loved soft soul music. She pulled out a CD from next to the stereo. Yes, it was totally old school, but she liked having CDs, especially of her favorite music. When she used the stereo, the music sounded all over the house through the built-in ceiling speakers in each room.
“How about some Erykah Badu?” she asked.
“Never heard of her.”
Ella grinned. “Oh, you’re missing out. She’s amazing.”
She pushed play on the CD, and the sound of ‘Window Seat’ wafted through the whole house. A beautiful-sounding, smooth tale of a woman who, in the end, just
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