Page 97 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

She shakes her hips and dances around.

“Honestly, I think I was Cuban in another life. I like this so much.”

All of us laugh. She takes a sip of my mojito and says, “Azúcar!”

Still shaking her hips, she shimmies to the dance floor to salsa with Máximo. I order another drink.

“How many have you had?”

“A few.”

“Be careful or you’ll really feel it tomorrow.”

“No worries,” I say, grinning when the bartender brings me my drink. I take a sip. “And please stop treating me as if you were Eric or my father.”

We both look over at the dance floor, where my sister-in-law is dancing up a storm.

“Marta is so much fun.”

I watch the poodle as she dances with Reinaldo, and I can’t help myself.

“How can you be with somebody so...so obnoxious?”

“Because all the delightful and entertaining girls are already taken,” Björn responds.

That makes me laugh. He always sneaks in a compliment. They don’t bother me. I know they’re totally innocent. I watch as a pair of women position themselves near us just so they can get a look at him.

“You’ve never had a serious relationship?”

Björn grins, winks at the women behind me, and shakes his head.

“No, I’m too demanding.”

“Demanding?”

I can’t help but laugh and look back at the poodle.

“Agneta is a beast in bed,” Björn whispers.

I knew it! That’s what I’d figured, but, God, men can be so elementary!

“So, if it’s not too much, can you tell me what kind of women you like?”

“Like you. Smart, beautiful, sexy, tempting, easygoing, a little crazy, and disconcerting. Plus, I love to be surprised.”

“I’m all that?”

“Yes, beautiful, you are! But this is no declaration of love or anything like that. I respect you, and I respect my best friend. You’re both too important to me. That said, if I’d met you first, you wouldn’t have gotten away.”

We both laugh.

“Now that we’ve cleared the air, if you know a woman who’s single and has those qualities, tell me because I’d love to meet her.”

“C’mon, this is so much fun,” says Reinaldo in his peculiar Cuban Spanish, asking me to dance as “Guantanamera” starts to play.

Björn is confused. “What did he say?”

I laugh. “He wants me to dance.”

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