Page 15 of I Wanna Dance

“Your family is still there?”

“Yes. In San Juan. My father was a physician. He’s retired now. My mother was a homemaker. Now, they spend their days perfecting their golf handicap.”

“Are you close with them?”

“I’m Puerto Rican,cariño, family is life. Yes, we’re all close.”

After eating, we strolled around.

“May I ask you something?” She didn’t look at me when she spoke.

“Yes.”

She stopped walking and looked up at me. “Why did you ask me out?”

I hesitated, the question catching me off guard. “I felt like it.”

It was a nonanswer. It was a child’s answer. It wasn’t sincere. But I couldn’t tell her that I asked her out because I was attracted to her, because I wanted to fuck her, because I enjoyed her company. All of that would make this…more than I wanted it to be.

“Does it bother you that I did?” I frowned, irritated once again with her. “You said yes, Leah.”

Her eyes went from curious to concerned. “I did say yes. I did so because I enjoyed our time together.”

“Me too.” I kept my tone nonchalant. I didn’t want her to think I was blowing hot and then cold, even though that was precisely what I was doing.

She looked down for a moment, her cheeks flushed slightly. “Look, Marco, you’re a good-looking, successful person. I am neither.” She raised her eyes to meet mine. “I’m as middle-aged as they come, body and mind. I am professionally barely making ends meet. I’m insecure, and I guess I was fishing for compliments.”

Her honesty undid me.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

She chuckled in self-deprecation. “Well, at least I wheedled a compliment out of you.”

“I already told you that you’re remarkable.” I was not used to women who didn’t know their worth. My wife had. My daughters had healthy self-esteem. A super-confident mother raised me. A part of me couldn’t help but see Leah as a little pathetic, but another part quickly chastised me for being so harsh and judgmental. It was obvious that Leah had been mistreated by her husband and even her children—expecting her to have clarity about her self-worth was unfair.

She nodded. “Hey, did you get the email from Viviana about the next class?”

The way she changed the topic could mean two things. One, she was indeed over my boorishness and was moving on. Two, she was doing that thing some people did, which was pretend something wasn’t bothering them when it was, and they’d let it fester, and they’d bring it up another time.

It doesn’t matter, Marco. This is not a relationship. You can even skip the damn salsa classes, and that will be that.

“Yeah, she wants us to wear proper footwear.” We began to walk again.

Viviana had sent links so we could see what she was talking about.

“Dance shoes with suede soles,” Leah remarked amusedly. “My friend Alana, who does dance and well, said it’s so we can pivot without sticking to the floor.”

“Well, Viviana did say it would help with the turns.”

“And make you feel more connected to the floor.” Leah chuckled. “I could fall on my ass and beveryconnected to the floor.”

There wasn’t a hint of anger or annoyance or…any kind of negative emotion in how Leah was talking.

“She did say you could opt for heels. Not too high but traditional salsa style.”

Leah snorted softly. “Just what I need—an excuse to twist my ankle in front of everyone.”

“Why do you care so much about what anyone thinks?” Now, I did snap. She was a grown-up, not a teenager. She needed to stop behaving like one.

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