Page 12 of I Wanna Dance

Did I? I wasn’t sure.

“Davis is twenty-four. He just passed the bar. He’s clerking for Judge Whitmore.”

Marco nodded. “Isn’t he the judge who overturned that gun case?”

“Yes.” Judge Whitmore was a big deal, and he was friends with Kevin.Everyonewas friends with Kevin. He’d asked the judge for a favor, and in return for the clerkship, Davis had dumped my ass. Davis’s girlfriend Olivia, who was also a lawyer, had been hired as an associate in Kevin’s law firm. She saw Kevin as her key to success as a corporate lawyer.

“Presley is twenty-two and is in her first year of law school at Emory.”

My daughter loved her father and believed he could do no wrong. Sure, she’d been angry when she found out about Candy, the physical trainer he was banging, but she got angrier when she learned that I wasn’t going to forgive and forget. She blamed me for breaking up the family. But then, unlike me, who never bad-mouthed Kevin to his children, my ex had gone out of his way to convince our kids to feel that I was an unreasonable, fat cow who should be honored that he still wanted me. Apparently, I was being childish, selfish, and arrogant for walking away from him.

“Law school must keep her busy.”

I looked out of the window. “Yeah, it takes a minute to adjust to the rigorous academic demands of the program.”

“Leah, I know you’re a lawyer, too. I looked you up.”

I turned and laughed softly. “I looked you up, too.”

“Good, then I don’t need to talk about myself,” he said in good humor.

When he finally turned off the main road and onto a quieter street, I frowned slightly. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said, a hint of mystery in his voice.

A few minutes later, we pulled into a small parking lot in front of a historic brick building. It was lit with soft, warm lights, and the sign outside read: Atlanta Botanical Garden—Night Garden Tour.

I blinked, turning to him. “The Botanical Garden?”

He smiled, his expression almost sheepish. “Yeah. I know it’s a little unconventional, but I thought it might be nice. Something different.”

That was an understatement. Most men I’d dated in the past thoughtspecialmeant reservations at a steakhouse where we’d go Dutch. This was unexpected and warmed my heart.

“I hope you’ll like it,” he added.

“I’m sure I will,” I said confidently. No one had done something so sweet for me—and that included Kevin.

We walked through the entrance, where a cheerful guide handed us a map and pointed us toward the illuminated paths. The garden was glowing under colorful lights that highlighted the towering trees, the winding paths, and the carefully curated flower beds. Lanterns hung from branches, and the soft sounds of nature blended with the drip-drip of water features.

“This is...stunning.” I spun around to see what was around me. “Do you come here often?”

“I’ve never been here before,” Marco admitted, his hands in his pockets as we strolled along the path. “Camille and Ialways talked about going, but we never made it. I thought...” he hesitated, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continued, “I thought maybe it was time to make a new memory.”

Whenever he spoke about his wife, I could feel his pain. This man wasn’t over the grief. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

I enjoyed being with Marco because the serious moments blended effortlessly with the fun, never feeling overwhelming. This, I thought, must be what a real grown-up relationship—where both people acted like adults—felt like. I’d never had this. Life with Kevin had been—which I could see now—all about him controlling me. I had allowed it. I hadn’t even known it was happening.

I refused to let Kevin ruin this beautiful evening I was having with an equally beautiful man, so I purposefully emptied my mind of the past to live in the moment.

We fell into easy conversation. I thought it would be awkward since I was out of practice. In the past, I fumbled my way through the social choreography of a date—but not with Marco. He was patient. When I put up walls, he took it as an invitation to talk about himself, tacitly asking me to drop some of my guards. As a lawyer, I admired his conversation skills. As a woman, I was flattered. As an insecure divorcee, I was afraid that once he got to know me, he wouldn't want to have anything to do with me.

He talked easily about his family. I could see he adored his girls.

“Isabella is the responsible one. She teaches high school.” We stopped near a fountain lit with pale blue lights. “Sofia is studying engineering at Georgia Tech like her mother.”

“Where did you study?”

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