Page 35 of Pas de Don't
She’d managed to have nothing but brief and friendly interactions with him all week. And if her eyes sometimes drifted in his direction during company class, that didn’t really count as being distracted by him. Just like if she sometimes lay awake at night and thought about the way his breath had flickered over the back of her neck right before she’d spun in his hands, well, that didn’t really count either.
Heather joined Peter and Ivy as they stood conferring. Ivy was petite, and though Peter wasn’t an especially tall man, he practically towered over her. Still, she held herself with an undeniable authority, like she knew exactly who she was and what she was capable of. Heather found it equal parts enviable and daunting. Something told her this was one reporter who wouldn’t have bought the half-true fairy tale she and Jack had spent years constructing.
After a brief, polite conversation with Peter and Ivy, movement in the doorway caught her eye. Alice waved at her from the hallway. She was back in her floppy ANB sweatshirt and had already pulled her hair out of its all-day bun.
“Are you still coming out to dinner tonight, Miss America?”
“Yes, please,” Heather smiled gratefully. If not for Alice’s invitation, she’d be spending another night sitting alone on the couchwith a container of takeout noodles, like she’d already done several nights this week.
“Great! I’ll take you to one of my favorite places. Can’t let Marcus have all the tour-guiding fun, right?”
“Right,” Heather agreed with a smile. Friends! She was making friends.
Alice was already starting down the hallway. “It’s called Café Luxor, on Military Road. Meet us at 7:00?”
“Uh, us? Who else is coming?”
“Oh, I invited Marcus,” Alice called over her shoulder. “He loves this place. He’d eat there every night if he could. And I’ll bring my brother so you can meet some nondancers for a nice change. I gotta run, see you tonight!”
Alice disappeared around the corner, leaving Heather standing in the doorway with her mouth agape. Dinner with Marcus? After she’d spent all week trying to avoid him, and mostly succeeded? She glanced over her shoulder to where Peter and Ivy were still deep in conversation. This wasn’t a violation of Peter’s policy, was it? Surely it was acceptable to have dinner with Marcus if Alice and her brother were there? It would just be three colleagues and an IT guy out at dinner. Nothing untoward or fireable about that. She was simply going to dinner with two of her colleagues. One of whom she happened to want to make out with.
It would be fine, she told herself as she collected her bag and headed for the lobby. As long as Alice and her brother were there, it would be just fine.
“You can’t go wrong with the lamb,” Marcus said absently, studying the menu in the dim light of the votive candle. He glanced up and saw Heather gazing around, looking a little overwhelmed by the eclectic decor of Café Luxor. There were Moroccan fabrics and Sri Lankan art hanging on the ochre yellow walls, and a wooden statue near the entryway that Marcus thought might be Jamaican. The menu was as global as the decor, and the spices emanatingfrom the kitchen at the back had hit him in the face the moment he walked in the door.
He watched her surreptitiously while she took the place in. Her hair was in a loose plait down her back tonight, and she’d swapped her usual small gold studs for a pair of dangling gold tassel earrings that brushed against her neck and caught the light when she moved. The restaurant was crowded and warm, but it was a cool, breezy night. When he’d met her outside, she’d been wearing a denim jacket and high-heeled ankle boots. The jacket hung over the back of her chair now, and even in a simple snug scoop-neck black sweater dress, with her sleeves pushed up along her forearms, she looked radiant.
She also looked pretty damn uncomfortable.
“Did Alice say when they’d get here?” she asked, her eyes darting to the empty seats on either side of her for maybe the tenth time since they’d sat down.
Marcus flipped his phone over on the table again. No new messages. “No, she just said she’d be here as soon as she could and we should order without her.”
Heather bit her lip, frowning, and Marcus resisted the urge to check his phone yet again. When Alice said she was organizing a dinner for Heather, he’d said yes so quickly she’d looked startled by his enthusiasm. But he’d gotten the distinct impression she was inviting a group of people. A big, raucous table full of his colleagues with plenty of physical space between him and Heather. A table this small, with just four people around it, was way too intimate for his liking. And without their third and fourth wheels, well, it was awfully date-like. Which made it dangerous. What if someone from the company saw them? Word would get back to Peter fast, and they’d both have some explaining to do.
“I’m sure they’ll be here in a sec,” he said, reassuringly, and she nodded, turning her attention to the menu. The menu, the decor, the empty table settings: she looked at everything but him. That wasn’t a surprise, given how studiously she’d been avoiding him this week.After that torturous rehearsal, she’d given him nothing but polite nods and brief close-mouthed smiles whenever they’d crossed paths.
Marcus knew it was silly to miss hanging out with someone he barely knew, but he did. The few days they’d spent together had been reallygooddays, and he hated the idea that one stupid, ill-advised kiss had ruined it. Sure, they couldn’t go on dates or make out in any more dressing rooms, but now, it seemed, they couldn’t even be friends. He doubted very much she would have agreed to this dinner if she’d known it would just be him and Alice and Will.
“Alice said you like this place?” Heather asked, glancing up from the menu and addressing his collar.
“Yeah, it’s a local institution. Been here as long as I can remember.”
“I guess I never really thought about what Australian cuisine was. Turns out it’s...everything?”
Marcus laughed, and a smile flickered over her face. “Sounds about right. I guess if you want a traditional Aussie meal you could have a meat pie or a sausage roll, but why eat that when you can eat ...” he scanned the menu, “locally caught prawns cooked in Portuguese piri piri?”
“That does look tempting,” she agreed, “but did you say lamb?”
“Lamb’s what Australia does best,” he said. “I can personally vouch for the Moroccan slow roasted lamb shanks.” He reached across the small round table and pointed it out on her menu. As he leant forward, she stilled, holding herself rigid until he settled back into his chair again. God, this was awkward. Where the fuck was Alice?
He flagged down a waitress and ordered some olives and roti wraps to start, and Heather ordered a glass of red wine. After a moment’s hesitation, Marcus ordered one, too. He was back in the studio dancing for the first time in months, he’d walked to the restaurant, albeit slowly, with his cane but without his boot. And he was here with a beautiful woman—although she, to be fair, didn’t seem to want much to do with him. Still. He might as well treat himself.
“Should I clear these settings for you?” the waitress asked, bending down to gather the cutlery in front of an empty chair.
“No!” Heather exclaimed, and the waitress jumped, taken aback. “Sorry, we’re just...we’re definitely expecting more people. They’ll be here soon.”
The waitress nodded and disappeared.
