Page 21 of I Wanna Dance

“Come on.” Marco drew me into his arms and danced me back to where the other couples were.

“Nice footwork, Marco,” Viviana complimented.

As we danced, we talked about the logistics for the dinner at Davis’s place.

“You sure you want to come, Marco?” I asked again.

“Of course. If I’m not there, who’s going to stare down those who treat you poorly?”

“Stare down?”

“I’m Latin,cariño.No one can glare people into submission like us.” He twirled me, and joy unfurled inside me.

CHAPTER 10

Marco

My daughters had all sorts of advice on how to handle Leah’s family when we met for dinner on Thursday night to celebrate Sofia’s birthday. Since she had a deadline for a class, we met at my place and ordered takeout from their favorite sushi restaurant, just like we used to when Camille was alive.

“If her kids are mean to her, shut them down,” Sofia ordered.

“But nicely,” Isabella recommended.

“If it’s the ex, go all alpha male on his ass,” Sophia advised.

“Yeah. But don’t get arrested. So, no physical stuff,” Isabella chimed.

They weren’t surprised that Leah’s kids were estranged from her, as several of their friends had complicated relationships with their parents. I was glad Camille and I never had to deal with that. Even when they were teenagers, the girls were easy, and we remained a close-knit family. There would never be a time that I’d be nervous like Leah was to see them.

But I understood her trepidation as her family dynamics became clearer.

Leah’s son lived at The Brady in West Midtown. The building was undeniably high-end, the kind of place that turned heads, and I couldn’t help but wonder how a young professional couple could afford it. Leah explained that it wasn’t Davis’s place—it was Kevin’s. He let their son live there rent-free.

It didn’t take much to see how her ex-husband had eroded her relationships with her children. He’d set his kids up better than he ever had their mother, clearly stacking the deck in his favor during the divorce. It was a calculated move, one that had worked, considering Davis and Presley had chosen him over Leah.

That realization made me suspicious of Davis’s motives for extending an olive branch to his mother now. But as my daughters had wisely reminded me, this wasn’t about Kevin or my doubts—it was about Leah. So, I resolved to be supportive and friendly to her children. Kevin, however, was a different story. I’d save my niceties for those who deserved them.

Leah was nervous as we went up to the elevator, so I pulled her to me and kissed her soundly.

“Wow,” she murmured, touching her lips with a finger.

“I have other ways to distract you if you want,” I offered.

She smiled as the elevator doors opened. “That was pretty effective. You can do that again.”

“Oh, Leah, I absolutely intend to.”

She flushed, and for a moment, I thought she was relaxed, but as soon as I rang the doorbell, she went stiff as a board.

“You’ve got this,” I reassured her quietly.

She glanced at me, her green eyes filled with doubt. “What if it all goes wrong?”

“Then we’ll leave,” I stated calmly.

She took a deep breath and nodded.

I was expecting Davis, whose apartment this was, to open the door, but it was Kevin. He was dressed in a crisp white button-down and jeans, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back.

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