Page 13 of The Plus-One Deal

It was Conrad’s turn to blink in surprise. I trod on his foot again and he cleared his throat.

“Our first date was our prize,” he said. “Two VIP tickets to the Manhattan Startup Symposium. We had our first kiss by moonlight outside.” His expression went distant, a sweet, gentle smile. “I still remember, they had cherry trees. The petals were everywhere, caught in her hair. I reached up to get one—” He plucked at my hair, then stroked it softly. I leaned in without thinking and turned my face to his palm.

“And look at you, lovebirds, still to this day!” Verity raised her glass. “Here, to the lovebirds.”

We clinked. Conrad beamed. I gulped my wine. It had been almond blossoms that night, not cherry, but other than that, he’d called up every detail. The moon in our eyes. The drifting petals. That moment I thought he would bend down and kiss me. If he had, if he’d done it, where would we be? Had he wanted to do it? Had it hurt to hold back?

“It’s so easy to be with her.” Conrad slid his hand over mine again. “Like a best friend.”

“Like me and Ken.” Verity sighed happily and leaned on his shoulder. “He works harder than I do. Do you know he’s a vet? People call him at all hours, scared for their pets, and he always says the same thing, ‘I’ll be right over.’ The same words he said to me, and I fell in love.”

“She got tonsillitis right before our first date.” Ken shook his head and frowned down at his plate. “She sounded so devastated when she called to cancel — at least, as far as I could hear her, the way she was croaking. What could I do besides bring her some ice cream?”

A sudden memory surfaced, pricking my eyes with tears. I blinked them back quickly, feeling foolish. I’d ducked out on Conrad once, on one of our plus-one dates — I’d had a bad oyster and needed to go home. By the time Conrad found out, I was mostly better, but he’d showed up anyway with a whole stack of romcoms. “Comfort viewing,” he’d called them. It wasn’t that he’d brought them that made me choke up, but that he knew me so well. He knew what to bring.

He'd offered to stay that night, but I hadn’t let him, partly because my stomach was still feeling queasy. But mostly, I hadn’t wanted to know how it felt, having someone who’d sit with me through the rough times. I didn’t have time for that, and neither did Conrad. Why tease ourselves with a glimpse of what could never be?

“Ooh, ooh, a waltz!” Verity’s delighted exclamation blew through my nostalgia. A chamber orchestra had struck up, and couples were taking to the dance floor. “We should dance,” she said. “You twododance, right?”

“Of course,” said Conrad. “Claire’s a wonderful dancer, and I somehow keep up.” He was being generous — he danced better than I did. But I took his offered hand and we headed onto the dance floor. Conrad leaned close to whisper.

“We’re doing great. Just dessert now, then coffee, and you can relax.”

His comforting words took the edge off my nerves. My shoulders went loose as he set his hands on them, then let his left hand slide down to my hip. We clasped our right hands together and he waltzed me across the dance floor, our feet fitting neatly to the three-quarter beat. Verity winked over at us, and I winked back. Then Ken spun her off and we spun the other way, and I let Conrad guide me through the simple steps.

“Don’t look over there,” he said, as he dipped me. “Look at me, yeah. It’s just us dancing.”

Itwasn’tjust us, but somehow it felt true. We pressed up cheek to cheek, then I spun out so he’d catch me, and when he did, I felt safe in his arms. Conrad was here for me. He wouldn’t let me flounder. He’d never let me down yet, and I could trust him.

The music died down, and then it picked up. Conrad’s eyes sparkled.

“Do I hear a tango?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Oh, I think I do.” He jerked me close, almost roughly. “What’s the matter? You scared?”

“Scared you’ll step on my toes.” I spun on my heel. Conrad gripped my hand tight. He drew me closer, my back to his chest. I could feel his heart beating, his breath on my neck.

“Do you trust me?” he murmured.

I nodded yes.

He flung me away from him, across the dance floor. Our linked arms went taut and I leaned back, back arched. I drew up my knee and Conrad whirled me back in. He pirouetted me, dizzy, into his arms, then lifted me, spun me, and set me back on my feet. I hung in place for a moment, catching my breath, then he dipped me straight back till my hair swept the floor. He pulled me back up and we tore across the dance floor, Conrad half-chasing me as I teased him, spinning and stepping just out of reach.

Then I ran out of dance floor and he had me again, and we danced with our bodies a hair’s breadth apart, the palms of his hands tracing the length of my body. He never quite touched me, but I still felt the heat, felt a shiver run through me as he near-grazed my hips.

“Conrad,” I gasped. The music hit a crescendo. He lifted me bodily, my belly pressed to his chest. I stretched out my arms as though to take flight, kicked up one leg as he spun us around. He held me up, weightless, as the dance reached its peak, then dipped me one last time, leaned over, and?—

Was this?

Would he kiss me?

His lips were so close, his hair in my face. His hands strong and firm, holding me in place. I closed my eyes without thinking and Conrad pulled me up, clasping me to him as applause filled the air. A hot flush swept through me as I realized it was for us.

“She’s clapping,” purred Conrad, low in my ear. “I think we’ve got her.”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t catch my breath. I clung to him, panting, and waited for my head to stop spinning. Soon, he was guiding me back to our table.

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