Page 57 of Dance with Me on New Year's Eve

“You have a sister?” I asked, my eyes wide and my tone incredulous.

“I do,” he replied. “You look shocked. It’s hard to believe I have a sister?”

“Yes,” I said automatically, realizing too late what his next question would be.

“Why?”

Our eyes locked, and I stared at the warm, amber color of his eyes. His hazel-colored eyes appeared to change color, but I knew it was only an illusion, a trick of light.

Finally, I remembered he was waiting for an answer. “I don’t know.”

His gaze narrowed ever so slightly until Lila tugged on his arm. “Enough boring talk, let’s go.”

Jeff’s voice sounded oddly lower than usual as he nodded. “OK, we need to stop bothering Roxanne anyway.”

“Oh, you’re not a bother,” I said quickly, flashing a smile at Lila. “It was nice to see you.”

“I know, it so was!” Lila said just before throwing her black robe-clad arms around me. I hugged her back, even though I was going to be drenched too as a result.

“All right, I guess I’ll see you at work, Jeffrey,” I said, walking around them to try to point them toward the door.

Lila giggled. “Nobody calls him Jeffrey, not even Mommy. He hates it.”

“Oh? I didn’t know that,” I said, trying not to smile as I peeked at his glaring face.

“Yeah, his dad’s name is Jeffrey.” Then she leaned in and whispered, “I’m not allowed to call him Grandpa.”

My lips formed anoh, but no sound emerged as I shifted my eyes upward to look at him.

What’s the story there? I noted his rigid posture as he stared at the floor. Bad blood within his family, perhaps? For some reason, I wanted to know. I tried to think of how to phrase my question.

As I tried to think of how to phrase a question, his head snapped up. “Come on, we need to go, Lila.”

Before I knew it, he’d ushered her out the door, and I was just standing there staring at the closed door.

What wasthat?

And why … why did I feel so disappointed at their abrupt departure?

Chapter 14

Only a few days later, I hadn’t seen Jeff at all, as he’d apparently caught a cold. Or so he said in his very terse email. Even Danny had been online less than usual, and I now had only two jobs instead of three. So I’d passed the rare time to myself by watching an earlier season ofCast Afarand emailing Danny all the things I noticed this time that I hadn’t caught in prior viewings (yes, plural, because I was obsessed).

Before I knew it, the time had come to get ready for my first meetup with the anxiety group. Cue the nerves, obviously.

I’d changed clothes approximately 8,000 times before finally leaving my apartment, only to panic and head back inside to change. There wasn’t much left in my closet to try on. I bit my lip, slumping down onto my bed.

Maybe this was a sign I shouldn’t go to the meetup. If I couldn’t even decide on an outfit, how on earth was I going to survive this meet and greet?

You won’t.

This is a terrible idea. You can cancel, and no one will care.

I stood up and began to pace around the apartment.

“Shut up, stupid inner voice,” I muttered, and then my voice rose. “And yes, I know your stupid name because I was a trained therapist. You’ve been running the show forever, and I’msick of it!”

My blood started pumping faster, and I felt an involuntary smile as I fist-bumped in the air.

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