Page 16 of The Good Girl's Guide to Being Bad

I couldn’t even argue because I did love it.

“Now, we just have to find your playboy.” Betty clapped her hands then nudged my side. “I mean, your coach.”

The lights dimmed at that moment. The idea was…brilliant. It was the perfect solution to my good girl dilemma.One day I’m a nun, the next a prostitute. Made perfect sense, I thought. My mind was still going over the life makeover idea as we made our way to the two seats Cora had saved us. Unfortunately, as we drew closer, I realized the seat next to mine was occupied. The woman I secretly referred to as the Home Wrecker was scowling as my mom welcomed everyone.

“Sadie,” Amanda said in her usual fake tone. “How nice to see you.”

“Hmm,” I said noncommittally, “why are you here? Did Dad bring you?”

“Of course, he did. I’m his girlfriend.”

“For now,” I mumbled under my breath.

Her smile turned sharp. “What was that?”

“Oh nothing,” I said. “I just haven’t seen you here before. So, you like dance?”

“Uh no,” she scoffed, straightening in her chair. “Your dad promised to take me out for a nice, expensive Italian dinner after this.Little Sicily, very high end, only the best people get in. He said enrollment has been down, so I’m here to support him.”

Riiight. And the Snobs-R-Us dinner had nothing to do with it.

“Hope your mom doesn’t mind me coming. I wouldn’t want to trespass on her turf.”

The words were perfectly delivered. The Home Wrecker was smiling an innocent smile, eyes wide. But if you looked a little closer, there was a glint of satisfaction there, a maliciousness she couldn’t quite hide.

Yes, Amanda was pretty (on the surface). But she was a shameless gold digger who was twelve years younger than my dad. She wouldn’t last. Dad wasn’t a bad father, but he was a life-long serial cheater. There had been several other Home Wreckers in the past. I knew she’d be gone once she figured out Dad didn’t have the deep pockets she was used to, but right now, she was trespassing on Mom’s turf. I was looking forward to her rude awakening.

“No worries,” I said, smiling. “I assume he told you about the opening number.”

Before she could respond with more than a blank stare, Mom’s voice rose above the chatter.

“Hi everyone! Corner Street Ballroom would like to wish the happiest of happy birthdays to our good friend Miss Betty,” Mom said, blowing a kiss at Betty as everyone cheered. “I know how you like it hot and spicy, Betty. This dance is dedicated to you.”

Music filled the room, smooth and sultry, as my mom and dad assumed their starting positions. Rhumba. Perfect.

The Home Wrecker sat straighter. “What are they doing?”

“They do this once a month,” Betty said, speaking across me. “Just wait, their chemistry is amazing. It’s the highlight of the night.”

Amanda’s answering frown was the highlight of my night.

As Mom and Dad moved across the floor, every eye was on them. I’d grown up with parents who had gone into marriage for the long haul, had promised to love and to cherish each other forever. But forever came and went when my Dad decided that he was in love/lust with my mother’s best friend, Camille (Home Wrecker #1), and when Mom decided life would be better without him to worry about. They’d divorced when I was ten, but still co-directed the dance studio.

The love of ballroom had kept them together—if not in marriage then at least in friendship. Although they hardly ever danced together anymore, one Saturday out of the month, they still performed for the students. There was something between them when they danced. Dad’s flavor-of-the-month girlfriend always looked nervous when they danced.

Amanda looked pale, mouth pursed, as they moved across the floor.

Good, I thought.Let her suffer a little.

I wasn’t delusional.

I didn’t carry any false hopes that my parents would get back together, and we’d be one big happy family. Yeah, right. But seeing that look on the current Home Wrecker’s face as sparks flew between my mom and dad?

Loving. Every. Second.

As Dad pulled Mom to him, lifting her leg, dipping her back for the final pose, the applause was instant. I whooped and hollered with the rest of them. Beside me, Amanda sat stiff as a board, noticeably silent, but whatever. Even she should’ve appreciated that performance. Rhumba had always been one of my favorites. They’d just set that floor on fire.

After they bowed, Mom said, “Thank you, thank you all so much. Now if you’ll just pair up and join us out on the dance floor, we’ll get this party started!”

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