Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(23)

The only good news was that Trudy was convinced I knew more about good wine than any of her friends or the sommelier in her favorite wine shop. All it took was another selection of wine—a zinfandel this time—after the first two bottles ran dry. She declared that her and I would absolutely have to go her local wine bar. She could not believe that I knew so much about wines, since I was from a place where cheap wine grows on trees, and was, for lack of a better term, a wino. No, I was a wine Ghandi, and she would go out with me, end of discussion.

That adult play date landed a smug smile on William’s face, and a livid frown on Denise’s. The stare only got harder, but for a wonder, William’s palm was less and less sweaty.

I was hopeful that it was good news, and not that he was dehydrated.

So when the conversation about dancing came up, Denise admitting that she roped Tom into it. Tom said it was just like a sport—to which Dennis laughed. I was ready with my two cents, as usual, and planned to then slip back under radar when I'd given it.

“No dad, it isn’t a sport!” William said, laughing, “If it was, I wouldn’t have gotten picked on by all my friends growing up.”

“It was good for you! Kept you tough!” Tom said, putting his hand behind Denise’s chair. “Besides, I doubt you get picked on now. The ladies like a man that knows what he is about on the dance floor.”

“True,” William said, looking at me with twinkling eyes, “and there was no way I could keep up with Jessica if Mom hadn’t forced me into all those classes. Jess can move her body better than anyone I’ve seen.”

Denise followed with, “Oh? When did you dance with her?”

I nearly groaned. William was getting over-confident that I was bullet-proof, and had just put me on blast.

Since I didn’t feel bad about lying in this situation, I jumped in with, “We’ve danced a couple times so far, I think.”

In William’s eyes, I wasn’t helping, so I continued before he could blunder, “Once at the rodeo, though I can see why you’d forget—Tom, I believe I danced with you as well.”

“Yes, of course. I had actually forgotten about that, you're right,” Tom said.

And he had. They all had. There were other matters that weighed on their minds from that night. Not so for me, though; Dr. George taught me to review that night and spend my brain power focusing on all that was positive. Dancing with William and his friends were definitely highlights. There was no reason those memories needed to be tarnished by what happened later.

William’s face went from scared to pained. He put his hand on the back of my chair and dropped his eyes to the table. It was as good a cover as any, though it wasn’t his intention.

I went on, “Beside that night, though, there was the time at Froggy’s.” I addressed the table, “My friend is dating one of William’s friends. After it turned out that none of William’s friends knew anything but the White Man’s Shuffle, which has absolutely no place on the dance floor being that it is without rhythm, I had to get William to dance. He was the only one that could keep up.” I winked at Tom. “But I still haven’t seen the Fox Trot, so who knows, huh?”

Everyone laughed but Denise. She was still staring.

Chapter Six

I waited outside the restaurant in the chill, blessedly alone. It almost felt weird without Denise’s accusing eyes trained on me. I swear, there were very few instances throughout dinner that those deep brown eyes weren’t zeroed in, looking for weakness. I was just glad it was over.

“Hey baby,” William said as he sauntered up. He’d started to relax halfway through the meal, getting into the conversation, hand always near my leg. He liked his family and spending time with them. It was sweet, in theory.

“Hi.” I leaned into his strong body, needing the warmth. “Where to? I want to get you alone.”

He leaned in slowly, planting a soft kiss on my lips, but not deepening. Saving it for later. I got tingles of anticipation.

“Actually—please don’t hate me—but I kinda sorta told my dad and Dennis and all them that we’d go to the Jazz Club. It is such an exclusive place, and I never get to go—membership only—so I was hoping you wouldn’t mind?”

“You told you mom you were going?”

“Well, my dad, but indirectly my mom, yeah. Is that okay?”

“William, I don’t think she likes me.”

“She does, she just doesn’t know it yet. You need a little more time to grow on her. Like mold.”

His light and playful mood usually made me smile. Right now it was making me grind my teeth. He wasn’t getting the severity of the issue between me and his mom. She was awful. She was making my life hell. It could have been such a wonderful date with William. Instead, it was as bad as getting a tooth pulled as the Novocain was wearing off.

My face must’ve had some of that worry on it, because he continued with, “She doesn’t not like you, Jessica. I think she is still trying to find fault. I think she does like you, but you’re...”

“I’m poor. I get it.”

“Well, middle-class…almost. Young. But anyway, look at you. That dress. Your style. I saw her eyeing your purse. You must have good taste. She probably owns the same one, or most likely doesn’t and wants it. She likes you, I think, but she is trying to protect me, so she still wants to find fault. You are dangerous to her, as you are to me—”