Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(26)

Denise nodded curtly once and studied me for a second. It wasn’t the normal stare I’d gotten all night, it was an appraising look, but it freaked me out none-the-less. I just kept waiting for the anvil to drop.

"How about country as a music choice?" she asked next.

"I still haven't locked down an opinion on Country. There are some good songs, and I have heard some fun songs, but I wouldn't go to a concert I don't think. Not yet. Maybe I just haven't heard enough."

"Classical?"

Why was she so interested in my musical tastes? "I like classical. Love it, actually. Probably stems from ballet when I was a kid, but I really like it. I actually need to find a symphony hall around here. Before you ask, for some reason I don't love Opera. I just never got into it. I respect it and the artists, but I haven't been able to sink my teeth in."

"Really?" She seemed genuinely surprised. "It might be like jazz—you just haven't been subjected to the best, so you don't realize you love it quite yet."

Suddenly the clouds parted—she sounded human; like she was talking to an equal instead of her son's date from the other side of the tracks. It didn't last long, however. She must have remembered who she was talking to, gave her son a glance, and turned away to talk to Tom.

I just sighed. What else could I do?

When the champagne arrived William jovially raised his glass and toasted to friends. We all saluted and took a sip. As soon as the beige liquid touched my lips I was in love. It blossomed on my tongue and cheered as it slid down my throat.

Which would only end in drunkenness, followed by telling Denise to shove it.

I gingerly put my glass down without taking a second sip.

“Not good?” Denise asked harshly.

I would stay upbeat if it killed me! “Too good! Champagne is dangerous.”

Trudy laughed and swatted the table. “Right she is! Right she is! But hard to resist.”

William’s hand squeezed my thigh. I put my hand over his, turning to compliment him on the choice. The words died on my lips. Those eyes, pulling me in, offset by his jet black hair and striking face; I felt my skin flush and the room get hot. I forgot my surroundings. I could only focus on his remarkable features and the heat his hand applied to my leg. He winked and turned to regard his dad, who must have asked a question.

I looked around, startled, remembering my surroundings. I took a big, steadying breath as I met Trudy’s eyes. She was smiling at me wickedly. Tom was asking William about business, but I noticed he tried to slyly glimpse my face, too. Even Dennis had a mischievous look to his eyes as he looked back and forth between William and me.

Before I could meet the cobra’s scowl, I politely excused myself for the restroom, hoping Denise didn’t follow. I didn’t want that moment ruined by the thunderclouds of his mother.

I wandered to the upper level and found the restrooms right away. In movies this would be where I splashed my face with cold water. In movies, though, a make-up person would repair the damage. I settled for a wet cloth on the back of my neck.

The music started up again as I made my way back. The musicians were noticeably better. The music choice wasn’t. If I wasn’t mistaken, they were playing a Michael Buble song. And while I did actually like his songs, I had a hard time believing that the song fit in a swanky jazz club. Although, this was the first I had experienced a swanky jazz club, so what did I know?

As I crouched to sit, all the men stood up. I froze. Mutiny?

William pulled my chair out for me. Oh.

“My generation isn’t as used to gentlemen,” I explained with a sheepish smile.

Tom chuckled. “Especially not in L.A. I imagine. Texans are still brought up right.”

He was dead wrong in some respects, but I didn’t say anything. Unfortunately, my face was about as deceptive as a fat man hiding behind a sapling.

“You don’t agree?” he asked with a smile.

“Sorry, sir. But not in the slightest. Don’t get me wrong—William and his circle of friends are stand up gentlemen. I have never been treated more like a lady than when with them. But...as far as Texas goes, or at least Austin...well, let’s just say that William is not the norm.”

“There certainly aren’t as many ladies in California, either,” Denise said in a cutting tone.

Instead of wilting, I could feel my spine straighten. I was getting tired of this bullshit. She was getting down-right nasty now. I half wanted to say something to defend myself, but noticed that every member of the party was looking at her negatively. Tom looked cross, Trudy disapproving and Dennis was slightly shaking his head.

William abruptly stood up, his hand bringing me with him gently. He was fuming.

“Would you care to dance, Jess?” he asked through a tight jaw.

“Of course,” I said softly, allowing him to lead me.

When he stopped on the dance floor, he brought me around to stand in front of him, then paused, eyes closed. His nostrils flared with the deep breaths he was taking. When his eyes opened, they were apologetic. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.”

He shook his head slightly, about to say something else, but hesitated. He gently hugged me close and picked up the beat, leading me around the dance floor as if we had been born to it. He was a strong leader even for the inexperienced, but with me, I could add flourishes and enrich the dance and make a sensation out of our movements.