embarrassment, actually.”
“And I’m trying to change the subject,” he said. “What are you drinking?”
“Nothing, actually,” I said. “I’m driving.”
“I liked your song,” he said. “You made it look effortless.”
“Thank you,” I said. I scanned the crowd for Max as I set my rolling bag down and my hanging bag over it. I didn’t see him in the lobby, but he could be in the bathroom. I stood strategically so I could see the room past Kevin’s shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t think I was horribly rude. “Are you a friend of Lola’s?”
“I’ve known her for a few years,” he said. “I’ve never seen one of her shows before now though. Do you dance for a living?”
“I have a day job,” I said. “Do you—”
“You were wonderful!” a female voice gushed. A woman with graying brown hair descended on me, a bored-looking guy in khakis and a bomber jacket in tow. She was probably in her mid-forties, in tailored clothing and hideous, fuchsia lipstick. She grabbed my hands and squeezed them, several gaudy rings digging into my flesh. “I mean, I was impressed with everyone, but you were my favorite! I’m Lynne, this is Dan.”
“Hello,” he said, shaking my hand politely after she released it. “You were very good.”
Damned with faint praise. Awesome. “Thanks,” I said. “Um, this is Kevin.”
“So how do you
do
that?” she asked. “How do you learn to move that way? Is there a place to sign up? How do you decide who performs?”
“Um,” I said again. Way to impress Kevin with my banter and intelligence. “I go to La La.”
She gave me a blank look.
“StudiOh La La,” I explained. “Lola’s school.” Tish ran the city’s most successful burlesque studio. It was where I took my first steps as a dancer, and where I fell in love with the art form.
“Do you teach?” she asked.
“Not really,” I said.
“Would you?” she asked. “I enjoyed them all so much, but I want to do it like you do. How did you get started?”
“I—” I paused rather helplessly. “I’m sorry, which question do you want me to answer first?”
She laughed. Her husband stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around. His eyes fell on Kevin. “Did you see the Cubs game?”
“I didn’t,” Kevin answered politely. “You?”
“How did you get started?” Lynne asked again.
“Through bellydance,” I said. “I was going to a bellydance school, and they had burlesque, and—”
“
Belly
dance,” she squealed, and I stopped myself from wincing. Any bats within a mile radius probably careened into walls. “Oh, how fun. Do you have a card? I want to take lessons from you. I’ll pay. You can teach, right?”
I hesitated. I certainly did have cards… from my day job. “I’m afraid I don’t,” I said.
She fished in her purse for a pen and handed it to me. I grabbed a mostly-dry cocktail napkin off the nearest table and scrawled my burlesque website address on it. “Here,” I said. “You can drop me a line any time.”
“I will,” she said, holding the napkin to her heart. “Oh, Dan, wouldn’t that be fun, if I took burlesque lessons?” She squeezed his arm.
“You’d be wonderful,” he said and kissed the top of her head.
Would I ever look at anyone the way she looked at him? Not just the fondness and desire, but the comfort and certainty? I felt a sharp pang in my stomach as I remembered my own face during that last year with Josh; I’m certain I always had a desperate quality when I searched his face for cues. I had a blissful few months of the same radiance I saw in Lynne before—
No point in that
, I reminded myself firmly as Lynne waved at me and they wandered off. Of course the first time I met an eligible guy, it was awkward as hell before I had a chance to make a good impression.
“It was nice meeting you,” I told Kevin, sticking out my hand.
“Nice meeting you too,” he said, taking it. He had a nice handshake; his long fingers swallowed