Page 2 of Dance with Me on New Year's Eve

I watched as Hazel studied the menu too. “I can never decide what to have here! So many great options. Even thesteamed broccoli is divine here, somehow.” Her gaze swung to me. “Aren’t you going to order anything, Rox?”

I nodded. “I’ve been here before, so I know what to order.”

Her head tilted as she eyed me questioningly. “You always order the same thing?”

I nodded more slowly, feeling hesitant about my answer now because she was giving me that look. The one Ihated. The one that saidThere’s something odd about you.

But I had to be honest. “I do.”

Hazel’s mouth opened and then closed. Finally, with a quick glance at Jeff, she turned back to me and shrugged. “OK, I kind of envy you. It’s so hard for me to decide because everything sounds so good. Jeff, is it the same for you?”

He snapped his menu closed. “No.”

What a strange man. Infuriating most of the time, confusing at other times. For whatever reason, neither Hazel nor my other boss, Mariana, seemed to mind his off-putting demeanor. But our dislike for one another had only worsened after we met. He was cold, rude, abrupt … and I couldn’t read him. Ever.

And that wasterriblefor me because my overactive brain constantly tried to read people, trying to see if I was making a good impression or making an idiot of myself or acting weird or … you know, resembling a normal, social human. If I couldn’t read a person, then I couldn’t assess how I was doing, how soon I needed to escape, whether people noticed how nervous I was. All the thoughts of a chronically shy and socially anxious woman, unfortunately.

When the waiter came to take orders, I was barely aware of Hazel placing an order, and then my eyes came back into focus as Jeff held up the menu and pointed to the pasta section. “Is there raw egg in the cream sauce?”

The waiter looked at the menu and then at him. “I don’t think so?”

Jeff’s angular face hardened. “If you don’t know, please find out. If there are no undercooked eggs, I’ll order that dish.Otherwise, I’ll have the grilled salmon with a Caesar salad.”

The waiter swallowed visibly and then nodded before turning to me quickly. “And you, miss?”

“I’m—uh—” I looked desperately at Hazel, who looked at me with sympathy.Pity. The worst.

I forced myself to focus on the waiter. “Salmon.”

“Soup or—”

“Salad,” I spit out as my eyes avoided the waiter’s and instead landed on a bowl of greens on a nearby table. “I mean, no, soup. Yes, soup. I want soup.”

“The soup of the day is chicken and—”

“Yeah, that.” With trembling hands, I busied myself gathering up the menus and nearly shoved them at the waiter as I felt my cheeks burn. “Thanks.”

I knew the two of them were probably staring at me because I was acting so odd. But then again, surely they’d seen me act really awkward in public before. That thought certainly didn’t make me feel better.

Quick, think of something to say. Anything to distract them from your awkwardness.

“The lake is so nice to … to see.”

I nearly face-palmed right there on the table but forced myself to look at Hazel as she smiled and attempted to rescue me. “The lake is beautiful, even when frozen. Hence my desire to sit here.”

I forced myself to take some slow, deep (but not too obvious) breaths as Hazel looked between us again and said, “So you both heard the good news about the investor for the new counseling center. Well, Jeff’s the one who shared the exciting news.” She laughed. “So, I wanted to meet with you both and start making some plans.”

I nodded, still not sure why we werebothhere together but trying to be open-minded. I knew how much this new counseling center meant to Hazel. She was fairly well known in the self-help world as a crusader for women with body image issues through her frequent international speakingarrangements and writing, among other things. She’d recently decided to open her own counseling center to expand her local and regional impact and to meet people face to face, which she vastly preferred as an extrovert. Before she even told me this news, she’d already enrolled in an online master’s program and spent hours researching how to become a licensed counselor. I was proud to work for her and, honestly, admired her even more now than before.

“So the first agenda item is to set up a project team or at least hire some people to set up the project team. I know the two of you aren’t project managers exactly, but you have a lot of the necessary skills.” She paused and smoothed her already smooth hair over her left shoulder, probably for effect because that was a very Hazel thing to do. “I want you to be co-project managers on this.”

I gasped, and Jeff made some kind of hoarse sound that I only vaguely heard through the tunnel of disbelief as I stared at its source. “You—what?”

Jeff crossed his arms and said calmly, “I work for Mariana, not for you, Hazel.”

I nodded vigorously, hoping his characteristic bluntness would actually be a benefit in this case.

Leveling her shrewd, dark eyes at him, Hazel replied, “I’m aware.”

---