Page 42 of Someone to Tempt
The studio empties of everyone except the three of us. Char approaches and hands me a slip of paper.
“What’s this?”
“The name of my favorite dance club in Denver.” She smiles. “I want the two of you to check it out. Tonight.”
Friday night in a club with Jake like we’re a real couple. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
I try to return the paper with the address to her, but she refuses to take it. “It’s a necessary idea,” the dance instructor assures me. “We have a month until the showcase, and you two are going to be the headliners. You need more practice and a bit of time outside of the studio setting to get more comfortable with each other.”
She looks at me when she says that last bit. Yep, it’s me. I’m the problem. But still…
“Jake and I can’t go dancing in Denver,” I insist.
“Why?” they ask in unison.
“Because that seems like a date, and he and I can’t go on a date.”
The smile playing around Jake’s lips fades.
“Do you want it to be a date?” Char asks, one delicate brow arched, curiosity clear on her features.
“Of course not,” I snap. “That’s why I don’t want to do it.”
“Then consider it homework. I’m giving you homework, Iris. This is important.”
She reaches out and takes my hand. “I’m new to Skylark.” Something like defiance sparks in her soft eyes. “It’s a great place to start over, and that’s what I’m trying to do. Right now, most people drive to one of the neighboring towns for dance classes because they don’t know me. My best way to advertise to the community is through the community seeing the success of my students.”
“But you’re great. You’re a fabulous teacher. A natural,” I assure her.
She laughs softly. “I appreciate your confidence, but I want to show I can do more than toddler or mommy-and-me classes. I need people to trust me. And if the two of you look like you’re having fun—like you could win the hometown version of the DWTS mirrorball trophy—it’s going to attract new students.”
She places the folded piece of paper in my hand and closes my fingers around it. “If you won’t go dancing just because I guarantee you’ll have fun, which should be reason enough, do it to help me.”
And that’s how she gets me. Because acts of service are my love language, and helping people in my community is a big part of that.
“What time should we get there?” I hold the slip of paper between two fingers like it might catch on fire at any moment.
“The doors open at eight, but things really heat up around nine. You’ll be salsa dancing…all kinds of dancing,” Char says. “It will be good for both of you.”
That’s debatable, but I nod and glance at Jake. “Pick me up at seven thirty.”
“Did I hear a please in that request?” he deadpans.
“You did not.”
If Charlotte recognizes the tension crackling between us, she ignores it. “I promise it will be fun.”
Sure. Like one of the Hemsworth brothers giving you a root canal. “I’ve got to get back to the office.”
“Have fun tonight, you two.” Char blows out what looks like a relieved breath as she rubs her hands together. “Thank you, Iris.”
Like I have a choice, but I don’t say that. I smile and head out the door.
There’s a chill to the air this afternoon, as if we might be in for our first taste of winter weather, but it does nothing to temper the heat coursing through me. It's a strange, contradictory feeling—part mortification at having my incompetence laid bare in front of everyone, and part something else entirely. Something sparked by Jake's nearness. The casual confidence in his movements. And the thought of spending even one night in his orbit.
“I can pick you up at six thirty and we can grab dinner first,” Jake says as he follows me to the small parking lot behind the dance studio.
“This isn’t a date, Jake. It’s homework.”
