Page 64 of Santa's Wish
"Friday and Saturday." Increasing our weekend traffic, which was already stellar, would be hard. It meant stealing customers from other venues, like the BDSM club down by the docks and the college dance clubs closer to Cambridge. I didn't mind putting in a little marketing time if it meant running or driving around town with Boz.
"Your boyfriend is okay with this?" Mr. Caynik leaned back with his hands behind him on the desk. If he was anyone else, I'd think he was putting himself on display. Thankfully, I was no longer tempted to look.
"Haven't asked him yet."
That earned a surprised laugh. He rose from his desk and slapped me on the back, half walking, half shoving me to the door. "Come back when you know for sure."
Boz was a hardersell than I expected. I thought he would love the idea of dancing with me, which he did. What I didn't understand was his stage fright.
When we danced at Irena's, people didn't pay attention to us until we were already well into our routine. We often drew a crowd to the dance floor, which was why I'd suggested the idea for the club.
Once Boz sank into the rhythm of the dance, the rest of the world melted away. Now, I had to convince him to let the world melt away before he took the first step.
On the first Friday night in October, I delivered Boz and Colette's orders from Blood Drive to their office. Boz usually worked Sundays through Thursdays, but he'd declared he needed to work overtime.
Colette wondered why we were both bothering her. Boz explained his trepidation about our first dance night to Colette, and she offered to join us at the club.
"Are you going to brainwash me into dancing?" he asked.
She shook her head. "It doesn't work like that. What I can do is dance with Mel and make you feel better about yourself."
"Mel?" He batted his eyelashes. "How is this the first time I've heard about Mel?"
"It's never come up," she whispered. "We've been together for centuries."
"You and Mel are always lovely together," I said.They'd been regulars at the club when it was still a tavern.
"We step on each other's toes, and we both try to lead," she said. "We're much better when we're horizontal."
I'd taken a sip of blood as she said that, and I almost spit it all over Boz's laptop.
"You'll meet us there?" Boz asked, oblivious to my struggle. I didn't need to breathe, but trying to inhale a mouthful of blood was unpleasant. We also needed to get going, so we'd have time to squeeze into our costumes.
"I'll be there," she said. "Break a leg."
"Maybe not?" Boz shook his head. "I'd hate to see the dance move that would break a vampire's leg."
I could think of two I'd used on Cassius, not that we'd been dancing. Boz had probably missed the violence while he was fighting for his life.
My lovely vampire boyfriend had dared to walk alone at night on his college campus, but he was still as risk averse as he was when he'd been human. It would take more than a few months to show him all the ways vampires were superior. We owned the night.
Tonight, we'd start with stamina and plain old flamboyance on the dance floor. We could out-dance the humans who dared to take the floor with us, and most of the vampire couples, too.
Since it was October, I'd dressed us up in classicalvampire costumes, complete with capes and slicked-back hair. Once we dropped our capes, neither of us wore shirts underneath, and our tight Lycra pants with bell bottoms left little to the imagination. The audience was in for a show.
Boz's nerves settled when he saw Colette. She and Mel wore matching flared skirts with pink poodles on them. They'd tied matching pink scarves around their necks above their white blouses. They looked lovely, but they would be no match for our secret weapon.
Shortly after I twirled Boz onto the floor with our signature move, Colette and Mel took the floor. They were both graceful and lithe, but Colette was right about one thing. She and Mel could not decide who should lead. Mel stepped on Colette's feet and almost fell backward into a table. Colette yanked her upright, almost giving the audience a show of what Mel wore underneath her skirt.
Mel stomped on Colette's chunk-heeled Maryjanes again, and they'd both had enough. With a laugh, Colette pulled Mel to the table she'd almost fallen over and they plopped down for the show.
That was my cue. I tugged at the laces holding our capes around our necks, letting them fall to the floor. Jameson swept in with superhuman speed and gathered them so no one tripped.
Then, the music changed and Jameson dropped a rose in my outstretched hand. I stuck it between Boz'steeth, same as we'd practiced, and we tangoed. Boz latched onto me with his burning gaze, and the world around us faded away.
My eyes misted over. I wanted to stop the music, end the farce, and go home. Boz was mine, not the club's. I wanted him all to myself.
Then I looked around. Couples crowded the dance floor as they did their best with the dance of love. Some knew the steps, but some tried to watch us while stumbling over their own feet.
