Page 43 of The Princess and the Pizza Man

Will pulled at his monkey suit that was a little tight on the arms, but it was the only one left that didn’t drown him or barely stretched across his back. He’d have forgone the entire thing if it weren’t for the fact that Bells was attending as well. And it was him who’d convinced her to stay.

The ballroom was the biggest room in the mansion he’d seen yet. A pianist sat in the corner, his fingers dragging over the keys like Will’s did when he made pizza. A string quartet played behind him, the music a soft background noise at the moment, but Will imagined that it’d pick up once all the actors were here.

He scanned the room again for Winter—he’d been subconsciously doing so since he entered—but she was still absent. Bells had come down with him, wearing a dress he’d never seen and a smile he’d missed over the past few days. Thank goodness Winter had been able to cheer her up; it’d been a long couple of days trying not to bug her about what had gone on.

His sister was never shy about sharing anything and everything, especially with him, and sometimes more information than he’d bargained for. So to have her eerily silent threw him off.

He picked her out in the crowd, the long dark blue dress looking good and grabbing the attention of a few men in the room. Michael, in particular, seemed unable to take his eyes off her.

She caught Will staring, and he stuck out a hand in a solidary wave. She returned it and went back to talking with James and Velvet.

Will looked around again. Winter was the only actress still missing from the group, and Ms. Vancouver was making her way right to him.

“You need to dance, hunny,” she said, holding her hand out to him. His breath locked away for a second; he was not a dancer—never done it in his life—but his momma would kill him if he refused.

“I’m not sure if what I’ll be doin’ is dancin’, but you got it.” He took her hand, placing his barely touched drink down on one of the passing trays. Only a few of the guests had made their way to the dance floor, and all of them seemed to just be rocking back and forth and not attempting actual steps. He could do that.

His hand fell to her waist, and he stuck his other out with a shrug. Ms. Vancouver stepped into him, clasping his open hand and settling the other on his shoulder.

“Oh, this jacket is doing wonders for this muscle here,” she said with a laugh, and Will chuckled, taking a tentative step to the side. Was he just supposed to go side to side and spin them in a circle somehow? He watched the other dancers, trying to duplicate what they were doing.

“Oy!” Ms. Vancouver squealed, jerking her dainty foot back. Will hissed through his teeth, heat rushing in his ears.

“Sorry, ma’am.” He started back in with just side to side, keeping an eye on where his feet were. “This ain’t really my thing.”

She let out a quiet snort. “Well, I am an excellent teacher.” Her hand went to his freshly trimmed chin. “Keep your eyes on me, dear. Looking at your feet will only get you all tangled up.”

“And how’m I supposed to see where I’m goin’?”

“You have the easy part of leading. I get to follow you.”

“How’re you supposed to know?”

She laughed. “Okay, stop this middle school side to side nonsense.” Her voice carried to the couple an arm’s length away who were doing exactly the same thing. They both looked so offended that Will felt a chuckle rise in his throat.

“I’ll teach you the simplest dance in the world—a box step.” She leaned in, her perfume smelling extra pepperminty. “Used in the waltz, and every woman on earth loves a man who can waltz.”

“What about a man who can cook?”

She playfully tapped his shoulder. “Focus now, and I’ll give you another arrow in your quiver of seduction.”

He shook his head with a laugh, dropping his eyes to their feet again. She yanked his face back up.

“One foot forward,” she said, taking a step back right as Will followed her instructions. “Then to the side, then back, then side again. Rinse and repeat.”

“So, make a box,” he teased.

“Yes.” She slid closer to him, making her feet an easy target for mishaps. “Show me what you got, William.”

A long breath fell from his lips, and he made to step forward, but his clumsy feet tripped first thing. He had a good excuse—his eyes had found the woman he’d been looking for all night, and his brain officially checked out.

Winter crossed the room, a bright smile on her face and a long, white gown on her short little body. When she moved under the lights, the dress shimmered turquoise, and tiny blue and pink sparkles in her hair would shine depending on where she stood. Bells had done a really good job on her hair; Will felt like he was actually staring at a princess, but then he heard Winter’s loud cackle echo across the room, and he was reminded that it was still her under there.

“Well, that didn’t go as I’d hoped,” Ms. Vancouver said, straightening herself up and fixing her dress. Will fumbled to get them back into a good dancing position.

“Sorry. I did warn ya…”

“That you did.” She let go of his hand and took a step back. “How about you give me a few minutes to recover? But we are not done here, Mr. Monroe.”

---