What the Heart Needs by Jessica Gadziala

have a man old enough to be her father rake his hands over her skin and look at her as if she were a piece of meat. But she couldn’t insult him; who knew how important he might be to the company. And she couldn’t slap him or walk away either. It was the most uncomfortable sensation she had ever experienced and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
    “Bob,” came a voice behind her and she nearly fell against him. Elliott. He stood behind her, just slightly to her side so he could look at Bob directly.
    She looked up with him, feeling suddenly, foolishly, incredibly emotional. She knew tears swam in her eyes and she fought them but then Elliott looked down at her and saw. Something in his expression changed. Where before he had seemed curious, he looked for a second softly at her, almost worried. Then that was quickly replaced by a quiet anger.
    “Elliott,” Bob answered, suddenly releasing her arm and it fell limply to her side. “I was just getting to know your little associate here,” he said with a mischievous smile and had the audacity to wink at her.
    “Yes, well if you’ll excuse us,” Elliott said, his hand reaching for hers. He took her empty wine glass and thrust it at Bob who snatched it, confused.
    She followed, slightly pulled by him to the dance floor. The music had just turned to a slow song and Elliott pulled her close, one hand resting on her hip, the other holding her arm outward, clasping it with his.
    It took her a second to realize what had just happened. He was going to dance with her. She had only ever slow-danced once before at her high school prom with her boyfriend Sam who had both his hands on her hips and she had her hands around his neck and they swayed awkwardly to the music. This was different. This was actual slow dancing. She had no idea what to do.
    Elliott didn’t say anything, firmly placing pressure on her hip and keeping their arms stiff so he could lead her easily around.
    Hannah moved where she felt he was pushing her, keeping her eyes firmly on his tie.
    “Are you okay?” he asked, quietly, almost in her ear. She nodded, not caring to look up when she knew there was definitely still a few of tears spilling over. Silently, she blamed the wine. She knew better to drink when she was already in a bad mood. She always got upset. Elliott sighed. “Look at me, Hannah,” he demanded softly.
    At her name, her head snapped up. She still wasn’t used to hearing it from his lips. “I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile that, unfortunately, made the corners of her eyes crinkle and a tear fall quickly down her left cheek.
    “Don’t,” he asked in a voice that almost sounded helpless to her. But this was Elliott Michaels. There wasn’t a helpless bone in his body. “Please don’t cry.”
    Before Hannah could say anything, Elliott was tapped on the shoulder by a very determined-looking Dan. “Can I cut in?” she asked, pulling Elliott’s hand toward her.
    It happened so fast, she could barely process it. One second, Elliott was dancing with her, the next, he was physically pulled away. She stood there, looking at Elliott’s back, held pin-straight and she could see from Dan’s face that they were arguing heatedly, but quietly.
    “May I?” James asked, coming up behind her and turning her toward him. He took one look at her face and pulled her against him, her chest buried into his neck with one arm around her back and the other placed on her upper arm. “Hold on there, gorgeous. I’m gonna dance us right out of this room.” He felt her stiffen at his words and chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. If there is anyone who could get away with this, its me.”
    And he was right. One moment, they were right in front of the band and the next they were in the second seating room which was still abandoned but for two servers trying to sneak a break. They quickly scurried away when they spotted the odd pair.
    James lowered her into the recliner, perching himself on the arm of