Standing in front of the table, I shrug off my suit jacket and toss it at Meyer, who catches it and drapes it over the back of the bench. “All right, who’s next?” I ask, rolling up my sleeves to my elbows and tugging the knot of my tie to loosen it. I jerk my chin at the three of them. “Stephen? You ready for me to push you around the dance floor?” I point a finger gun at him. “You look like a guy who could seriously show me up.”
Stephen chuckles loudly and lifts his palms. “I do love you, Lucky, but not enough to be your dance partner.”
I grin and jerk my chin at Meyer. “Meyer. Come on now. When was the last time you danced with me?”
Meyer shoos me with the back of his hand and barely looks in my direction. “Fuck off with that, Vin.”
“Well,shit.” I brace my palm on the edge of the table, turning toward Ava. Her gaze is aimlessly floating around the atmosphere. “Ava. I guess that means you’re up, doll.”
Her flitting eyes line up with mine, and she smiles shyly. She presses her hands flat on the table and leans toward me. “I have to be honest with you. I don’t know how to dance. And if you tried to teach me anything right now, it wouldn’t make sense.” She pauses dramatically and raises her eyebrows. “I only slept about three hours last night,andI think I’m drunk.”
“Aw,sweetie.” I laugh and pat her hand. “You’ll do fine.” I point a thumb over my shoulder. “Besides this is a slower one, so it’ll be easier.”
“Yes!” Pearl squeals. She picks up her half-empty martini glass and thrusts it through the air across the table. “Youmustgo dance with him, Ava. He is such a good dancer. I’m afrailoldlady,” she enunciates, flapping the boa between each word, “and he didn’t even break me.”
I hold out my palm in front of Pearl. “That’s becauseyouare unbreakable, my dear.”
Pearl slaps my palm. “Andyouare thedoll, Mr. De Luca.”
I wink at her before looking back at Ava. “Come on now, Ava. I’ll go easy on you.”
Ava squints at me for a long stretch of seconds. “Why do you want to dance withme?”
“Because.” I grab her hand and give it a tug. “That fringe looks way better when it’s swingin’ in the breeze.”
“Ohhh-kaay…” she drawls, shifting toward the edge of the bench. “I hope I don’t puke on your shiny shoes.”
I try not to make a face.
Uh, yeah. Me too.
She stands up with a sizable wobble, and I steady her with my hands on her waist. “You won’t. Just look right here.”
She does, and I peer at her eyes. They’re only a little glazed, but she’s able to focus on me, so I’m thinking this is more her lack of sleep than the alcohol. The combination of the two, however, is going to assist me with my end game in a big way. Nothing lowers a person’s inhibitions more than being loopy on lack of sleep and just enough alcohol to grease the wheels.
Ava keeps her eyes glued to me as I walk us onto the dance floor. The number isn’t exactlyslow, but it’s not as quick as the previous one, and an easy little slow dance won’t be that hard for her to keep up with. I pull her against me with my hand on the small of her back, taking her hand while she braces the other on my upper arm. She’s still staring me right in the eyes.
“Why did you want to dance with me?”
I gingerly lead her through some basic steps. “Whydidn’tyou want to dance withme?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to dance with you.” She slides her hand around to squeeze my tricep muscle, then glances at it. “You’re extremely hard.”
I cock an eyebrow.
Not yet, but I’m getting there.
“I beg your pardon,” I prompt, keeping my tone playful.
She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “I meant…I mean…I was talking about your arm, and how playing the piano as fast as you do must be a workout, and…I wasn’t meaning, like…you know…Ugh.” She drops her head even lower. “God, I hate that I’m like this.”
“Hey.” I use our clasped hands to tilt her chin up, but her eyes remain downturned. “Don’t say that. There’s nothing about you that’s even remotely worth hating.”
She doesn’t look at me, and I feel her little back muscles tense up under my fingers.
“Ava. Look up here, doll.”
“Idon’twant to look at you.” There’s a concerning quaver in the back of her throat when she says it. In the low, blue light of the club, I can see a glimmer on her long lashes like they’re suddenly wet with tears. “I can’t stop making a fool of myself in front of you. I did it at the Austin show, and I’ve been doing it all day.”
