11

“ASHFORD.”

He knew her voice immediately. His eyes searched the crowded square on this hot June night in Old Town. The place had a festive atmosphere, befitting his mood as he celebrated with his classmates. A Latin band played under a large awning, and several couples danced on the pavement.

He found her. She was sitting on a bench in a black dress with two other girls. Her legs were folded at an angle down to her strappy sandals. Her curly hair flowed over and behind her head. She was stunning. She smiled as he walked over.

“It’s good to see you again, Leila. I hoped I would.”

“Did you?”

“May I buy you a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Her two friends watched with interest. He remembered the blonde from the pool party at his house.

“Sit down for a minute,” Leila said. “I’ll try not to say anything rude this time.”

He sat on an adjacent bench. Strings of lights reached from the lampposts toward the buildings behind, creating a starlike pattern above them. The lights shimmered off the windows of the restaurants and clubs.

“I graduated today,” he said.

“That’s wonderful. Congratulations. So did Jen.”

The blonde smiled. They congratulated each other.

A small breeze rose off the canal, softening the heat of the night. Out of the corner of his eye, Ashford saw his classmates walk into a crowded bar across the square. He was in no hurry to catch up with them.

“I owe you some thanks.” He looked back at Leila. “You gave me a good challenge the last time we talked. It made me think.”

She looked skeptical.

“The week after the pool party, I had an encounter at the hospital with a patient who really shook me up. It forced me to think of my role as a nurse differently, in a good way.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I think you’ll be a good nurse. Just go easy on your magic brews.”

He laughed.

“So, what happened at the hospital?”

“I don’t want to go into it now.”

“But I’m curious now, and I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

“I hope we’ll see each other again soon. Really, I would like to ask you out.”

“So ask.”

“I’m afraid to.”

“It would be bold of you, all things considered.”

“How would you answer?”

“I don’t know. Going out with you would be pretty risky for me. I suppose it depends on how you ask.”

Ashford’s heart thumped. Now was the time. Her two friends bored holes in him with their eyes. “Will you go out with me?”

“No. That wasn’t good enough.”

He laughed even though it felt like he had been led into a trap. He fidgeted and glanced toward the bar his friends had entered.

She placed her hand on top of his, where it rested on his knee. “You have to give a girl a reason to say yes. An enticement . . . something to look forward to. I’d need more incentive before taking such a risk.”

“I’ll try again.”

“Too late, you missed your chance. But I’ll dance with you.”

“I don’t know how to dance salsa.”

“This isn’t salsa music. It’s bachata. Come, I’ll show you how.” She hopped to her feet and reached her hand toward him. He couldn’t resist taking it. He followed her down in front of the band where the other couples danced. The music was inviting: beautiful with its melody while pulsing with its rhythm. Leila’s shoulders had already started moving to the beat.

“See how they’re moving?” She nodded toward the other couples, still holding his hand. “Try it—side to side, one two three lift, one two three lift.”

He tried as she watched him.

“Bend your knees. Get low. That’s it.” She turned in front of him. Her face was inches away. “Now, hold me behind my shoulder blades.”

He put his hands behind her. Their eyes were locked. She began to sway. He supported her back as she leaned into his hands.

“Feel the way I move. Now, move with me. Remember the steps: one two three lift.”

He followed her, feeling the rhythm through her back against his hands. Their eyes remained locked. She had dark, wise eyes.

“Now closer. Let our knees move in between each other’s.”

Without waiting for his lead, she moved in close to him. He could feel her hair against his cheek and smell her fragrant skin. Her cool, bare legs were against his. Her chest brushed against him as they moved from side to side. Her back muscles pulsed against his hands. The dance was sensual, visceral—her body and the music inviting him into the movement.

She was singing softly in Spanish. Her voice moved him with its beauty and drew him closer to her in the intimacy of the moment. He understood the rhythm now, moving naturally with her. Their legs were entwined. Their chests moved in unison without being pressed together.

By the time the song ended, Ashford had fallen in love.

She looked back up into his eyes. Surely, she had felt the same thing he did. For the briefest moment, he saw it in her eyes before she looked away.

“That was nice. You’re a natural.” She began to walk back toward her friends. He reached for her hand.

“Leila, I have to see you again.”

She turned her head and smiled at him. There was a distance in her eyes now, a lonely melancholy. The connection from a moment before was gone. “It’s only a dance, darling.”

She slipped her hand out of his grasp and walked back across the square.

It was late, but the girls weren’t tired. Leila scampered ahead of Jen and Brandy and pirouetted on the canal path. The warm night air felt good against her skin. She waited for her friends to catch up.

“Nobody would believe you’re the sober one.” Brandy laughed.

“She’s drunk on love,” said Jen.

“No, I’m not.”

“Lie all you want. We saw how you looked at that boy and how you danced with him. It was hot.”

Leila walked on. She felt happy and alive. She wanted to enjoy the moment without thinking about it too much.

“Please give that boy a chance.”

“I can’t. He’s my boss’s son.”

“Then why did you dance with him like that?”

“A dance isn’t a promise.”

“You’re leading him on.”

As Leila walked, she moved to the bachata rhythm in her head, remembering the feeling of Ashford’s strong hands on her shoulder blades and the scent of his neck. She did like him. That was why she had to be so careful.

The warm breeze rustled through the close palms beside the path. The canal shimmered in the light of the few stars bright enough to break through the glow of the city.

“How bad could it be if you went out with him?”

My goodness, Jen, just let it go!

“Maybe his mom wouldn’t even mind.”

“Oh, she would.”

“So? Get a new job. Mortgage brokers are a dime a dozen around here. Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

“No.” She turned and looked at Jen, finally starting to feel annoyed. Surely, Jen remembered. It wasn’t only the issue of Ashford being Samantha’s son. Leila wasn’t ready to open her heart to anyone. The risk to her heart scared her more than the risk to her livelihood.

Even if she was ready to love, surely she could do better than him.

Jen looked sad for her. Leila couldn’t help feeling a little melancholy too.

“Let’s get out of here,” Brandy said. “My feet hurt.”

Leila took Brandy’s arm, and they walked back up the path the way they had come under the tall palms. Jen followed a step behind.

Soon, Leila was driving her friends home. With the windows rolled down and the radio cranked up, they sang at the top of their lungs, pleading along with Justin Timberlake that this just can’t be summer love.

Later that night, Leila kicked off her shoes as soon as she walked back into her apartment.

It had been a fun evening—the kind she should make the time for more often. It wasn’t time she lacked, but energy. Her job sucked so much out of her that planning and preparing for a night out had become a daunting task. She couldn’t even imagine dating.

Jen was right. There were more important things than work. Love was certainly one of them. But why take a chance for something she couldn’t trust?

Lying awake in bed as Romeo settled himself heavily on her legs, the melody of the song she and Ashford had danced to came back to her mind.

She was lonely. She could admit it to herself, if not to anyone else. But somehow, even loneliness had become comfortable. Her childhood trained her in loneliness as a means for survival. Those lessons had served her well. But her heart wanted to trust people, to believe in them. She wanted to feel free to take a risk. She longed for companionship—to let someone hold her heart and trust it wouldn’t be broken.

For a moment tonight, when she leaned into Ashford’s hands and felt herself held securely, she trusted him. How wonderful it would feel to be held now as she drifted off to sleep.

If only it were that simple.