Page 2 of On Dancer
“Uh. Sure.” The better action would have been to correct his assumption that I was part of the catering staff, but what popped out of my mouth was, “Can I bring you a refill?”
“And save me the trip back inside? Bless you.” Alexander smiled then, a broad, generous, elegant gift of a grin that made my impulsive offer more than worth a little embarrassment and mistaken identity. “Seltzer with lime, no ice.”
“Be right back.” I dashed inside to the bar, where, thankfully, the line for cocktails had died down. I was able to return in short order to present Alexander with the requested drink.
“Thank you.” He gifted me another smile, one I happily returned.
“No problem.” My fingers buzzed from the briefest of brushes as I handed over his drink. “I get wanting to hide, trust me.”
“Oh?” Alexander raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “At least you’re getting paid to be here.”
“Actually—” I opened my mouth to explain, but Alexander continued on with a flick of his wrist.
“I shouldn’t complain. My father deserves a good birthday. It’s not his fault my mother and sister keep trying to introduce me to every unpartnered adult at this thing.”
Ah.This would be a less-than-ideal moment to reveal I’d been angling for my own introduction. Instead, I made a commiserating noise. “Family setups are the worst.”
“Exactly.” Alexander took a long swallow of his drink, and my gaze locked on the long, lean muscles of his chiseled jaw and neck. There was no mistakinghimfor a caterer as his light sweater looked to be knit out of something airy and expensive and was paired with a perfectly pressed pair of dark dress pants. “There’s no easy way to extradite oneself.”
“Your family undoubtedly means well though.” Yet again, I was about to explain our connection when Alexander shifted hisweight from side to side. He winced, and months of looking out for my mother kicked in as I gestured at a nearby lounge chair near the fire pit. “You should sit.”
“Not you too.” Alexander laughed, a deep, musical sound, but his forehead stayed creased with tension. “You know you’re doing a terrible job hiding pain when a random server tells you to rest. No offense.”
“None taken.” I gave up on trying to correct him for the moment. Maybe we’d laugh about the misconception later. One could hope. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty about needing rest.”
“Guilt is my middle name these days.” Alexander took a few stiff steps over to the lounger to perch on the edge, extending one long leg out in front of him. “And it feels like all I do is rest. I’m tired of goofing off.”
“Listening to your body isn’t the same as goofing off.” I’d given my mother this same lecture so often I could do it in my sleep.
“Now you sound like my sister.” Alexander released a groan as he flexed his leg before draining what was left of the drink I’d brought him. “Listen to your body. Take your time. Come back slowly.”
“She’s not wrong.” I tried for the right blend of upbeat and soothing for this pep talk. “But you’ll make it back on stage.”
“You know who I am?” Frowning, Alexander sat up straighter.
“Of course?—”
“Of course.I guess everyone here does.” He cut me off yet again before making an apologetic noise and softening his tone. “Sorry. I sound like an entitled ass. It’s been a long couple of weeks after the worst summer of my life. I was enjoying a brief moment of anonymity.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to your hiding.” My regret was genuine. Whatever brief moment of camaraderie we’d sharedwas gone, evaporated like smoke from the fire pit. I held out my hand for his now-empty cup. “Can I take your empty cup?”
“Sure. And now I feel bad, snapping at you when you were just trying to do your job.” He twisted his full lips into something between a grimace and a smile. “It’s not your fault I’m exhausted from the weight of all these questions and expectations over my recovery. My own included.”
“It’s okay. I know a thing or two about expectations.” I slipped back into pep-talk mode. “You need to give yourself a break. You don’t always have to be perfect, and certainly not right now when you’re still healing.”
“Don’t I?” Alexander gave a harsh laugh.
“Sometimes perfect isn’t possible.” I met his steely blue gaze, trying to leave him with the wisdom I’d gained over the last year. “Maybe this is one of those times.”
“You’re very wise for a caterer.”
“I’m not—” I was about to correct him once and for all when a tall, elegant woman I recognized as Alexander’s twin sister appeared in the nearby doorway.
“Alexander? We need you for a photo.”
“Sorry. I’m being summoned.” Alexander hefted himself out of the chair, and back perfectly straight, he strode toward the door, no trace of the earlier pain he’d let me see. “Good luck with the rest of your shift.”
I let him go. I remained on the patio for several long minutes, studying the flames in the metal firepit. I’d finally met my crush as an adult, only to botch the whole thing with an embarrassing misunderstanding I was in no hurry to correct. Eventually, though, the chill of the evening air pushed me back inside, where my mother cornered me near the bar area.
