Speak Low by Melanie Harlow Page B

jumping, the dance floor was still packed, and the crowd at the bar was even thicker. All of it annoyed me. I marched ahead of Joey on stiff legs and flopped into our booth, across from Rosie, who, despite her threat, was still waiting for Joey.
    “There you are!” shouted Evelyn over the music. She rushed from the edge of the dance floor over to the table and fanned her face, which was pink and sweaty. But her blue eyes were lit from within, and the glow in her skin was becoming.
    “Here I am.”
    Her brow wrinkled at my glum face. “Everything OK?”
    “I’m fine,” I promised her. She deserved a good time tonight. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rosie tug on Joey’s arm until he sat next to her. “Really,” I went on. “Go enjoy yourself. I just have a bit of a headache, so I’m going to rest here a bit.”
    “All right.” She glanced at the table and giggled. “Ted bought a couple bottles of champagne—it’s the bee’s knees! Maybe that’ll cure your headache.”
    I plastered a smile on my lips. “It might. Go on, dance.”
    “All right.” She tilted her head. “Sure you’re OK?”
    No. I looked across the table. Joey’s face was stony; Rosie’s was triumphant. She stroked his arm and whispered something in his ear. “I’m sure.”
    She patted my arm and hurried back to Ted, who scooped her up close. I didn’t see Walter anywhere and figured he’d given up on me altogether. Smart guy.
    “So where’s that handsome man of yours? He dump you already?” Rosie’s shrill voice grated my last nerve. My nostrils flared as I took in her bobbed blond curls, perfectly coiffed around her flawless face, set off by a headband that sat low on her forehead. Her porcelain skin appeared even whiter than usual behind splashes of scarlet on her lips and cheeks, like blood in the snow.
    “He’s busy.” Turning my attention to Joey, I gasped. “You’re still bleeding.”
    Rosie squealed and shrank away from him. “Ew, what happened?”
    “Nothing.” Joey pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at his face. “Just a bloody nose.” He met my eyes and the secret passed between us. My heart beat a little faster.
    “Oh. I’ve never had one of those.” Rosie sounded as if we were talking about a giant wart or a festering wound.
    “It’s nothing, but I should leave.” He braced himself on the table to stand.
    “Wait—don’t go.” I put my hand over his, which was already bruised from the fight.
    “Yeah, don’t go yet,” Rosie put in. “I want to dance with you again.”
    But I wasn’t about to let her take him away. Not when another slow, sexy blues had just started. “Dance with me?” The words slipped out before I realized what I was saying.
    Surprise flashed in his brown eyes. “You want to dance with me? To this?” He didn’t even bother to mask his shock.
    “Yeah.” I set my little mesh bag on the table and slid out from the booth. “I do.” My heart was pounding now. Would he turn me down? Or worse, dance with Rosie instead?
    “All right.”
    I had to look carefully to be sure he wasn’t joking, but his expression was serious.
    “Don’t be too long, now” Rosie called, a false cheery note in her voice.
    We walked onto the dance floor, my knees jittering uncontrollably. What was I thinking, asking him to dance with me to this song? We might have done a tame fox trot or an awkward waltz at Bridget’s wedding, but that was in a room full of relatives, and we’d probably kept enough space between us to park a car. This was something altogether different. Where would he rest his hands? Was I supposed to put my arms around him like Rosie had? What if Enzo saw us?
    Actually, that thought spurred my confidence a little. Let him see us. Serves him right.
    In the back of my mind was the dim realization I’d had the same exact thought in reverse just a week ago—I’d wanted Joey to see me with Enzo and be jealous. Tonight…I didn’t understand it completely, but I didn’t