I carefully regard him. To be a good friend of Livingston, one has to be a thorough black sheep, too handsome for their own good. Conrad is no exception. If I’m not mistaken, he was one of the bachelors that vied to be Rainey’s husband.
His reputation as a seducer proceeds him, but for tonight’s reception, where love is all around me, he will serve as a welcome distraction.
I meet his gaze and shrug. “I suppose one might call you pleasin’ to the eye,” I say playfully.
“My God, woman! You wound me.”
“Impossible.” I wag a finger at him. “The night just began.”
Conrad arches a brow and looks me up and down. “Indeed.” He leans in and smirks devilishly. “If you do me the honor, I would love to have a dance with you.”
Before I answer, I look out the corner of my eye and see Asa listening to our conversation. I give my focus to Conrad and smile brilliantly. “I would love to.”
Conrad holds his glass between us. “To tonight,” he toasts.
“To tonight.”
I will never know the proper definition of “shit-faced.”
Although I believe I am coming close to the word. Am I drunk? Quiet possibly. I can certainly stand on my own two feet and hold conversations with the guests in attendance. I know tomorrow morning I’ll remember everything that happened. It won’t come to me in bits and pieces like a bad nightmare.
I straddle the line between remembering tonight’s events and simply not caring.
But I feel pleasant. My skin is flushed, as though my blood has been replaced with lava. I’m not as sad, or as angry, or as worried about what my future may bring. I only care about right now.
I take another sip of my champagne and turn toward the quartet. As I dance by myself on the ballroom floor, I lift my arms, as though I’m a conductor.
Most of the guests left some time ago, leaving only a handful behind, and giving me almost the entire ballroom floor to myself.
Behind me, I hear a deep chuckle, and for a moment, I close my eyes and pretend it’s Asa. But it’s not meant to be. He’s somewhere in this room. Watching me. Always watching. A hand curls around my shoulder.
“Let’s dance,” Conrad says.
I shake my head. “I don’t dance. I dance,” I say, curling my arm through Conrad’s.
He winks at me as he turns us to face each other. “Show me how well you can dance.”
So I do. My steps are as elegant and agile as if we were sober because, in the South, manners and your graceful steps in a ballroom are worth the same currency as money. And sometimes, in the end, it is all you have left.
“Have you always been this beguilin?” Conrad asks.
“I believe so.”
“Then how am I just noticin’?”
“Because I’m simply the last available skirt in Charleston to chase,” I say.
Conrad tilts his head back and laughs. He gives me a spin and brings me back into his arms.
“Marry me, Nathalie,” he teases.
“You’re foxed, Conrad,” I reply.
“So are you. It makes us a perfect match.”
“The difference is, I do not make this a nightly occasion.”
My reply earns another laugh from him, as he moves us across the ballroom floor.
“Let me ask again. Marry me.”
Shaking my head, I smile. “No, and before you ask, it’s because you are a womanizer.”
“Then reform me,” Conrad says, playfully trying his hand one last time.
I sigh dramatically. “I’m afraid the answer is still no.”
Having one womanizer as a husband was bad enough. I would never make that mistake again.
At least with Conrad, I would know what I would be getting. He doesn’t hide his flaws.
Conrad shrugs and smirks. “You cannot blame a man for tryin’.”
Conrad has done wonders for my confidence and broken heart tonight. The alcohol has helped, too. We spend the rest of the dance laughing and talking about past memories. Most of them having to do with him and Livingston up to no good.
And the entire time, across the room, a pair of brown eyes follow me wherever I go.
Asa danced with Juliet once. Conrad and I were dancing at the same time, and I was glad for it. But there was a moment where we were so close. A moment where I turned, my skirts flowing around me like a sea of gold. The material of my dress brushed against his black pants, and as I walked back toward Conrad, I felt the fleeting brush of a finger. It was so quick I questioned it, but long ago, I had memorized Asa’s touch. Memorized the feel of his hands into my memory so I would never forget it.
He reached out for me.
“Do you know why I’ve enjoyed your company tonight, Conrad?” I blurt.
“Why?”
I smile and remind myself my focus needs to remain on him. No one else. “You speak such wonderful nonsense. Your words aren’t stern, and your face isn’t pensive.”
Conrad shakes his head, but his smile remains intact. “Thank you?”
“I like that,” I rush to say. “Stern is quite exhaustin’.”
But someone like Conrad would never be steady and reliable…
“I suppose it could be,” Conrad slowly agrees.
I open my mouth, ready to list another reason I enjoy his company when someone clears their throat behind me. The sound causes my heart to drop in my stomach. Abruptly, I stop and almost cause Conrad to trip over me. He immediately rights himself and now there’s no avoiding who’s behind me.
Cautiously, I turn and see Asa stoically standing there, as though it’s proper protocol to interrupt a dance.
He gives Conrad a smile, but it almost resembles a baring of teeth, and then turns his focus to me. “Would you like to dance?’
“That’s very kind. But no.” I turn my back on Asa, determined to finish my dance with Conrad as though nothing is amiss. Not even two seconds go by, before I feel a large, very male hand land on my shoulder.
I stop talking and look at the fingers on my skin.
“Please. I insist,” Asa says, far too close for my liking. “For old time’s sake.”
I want nothing more than to shrug him off and tell him to dance with his wife. I want nothing more than to say a lot of things, but even in the haze I’m under, I know better than to create a scene.
I turn to Conrad and give him an apologetic smile. Conrad is a gentleman and steps back for Asa. “Please do.”
Asa takes his place, and Conrad says, “I get the next dance, Nathalie.”
Asa grabs a hold of my hand and curls his other hand around me, his touch possessive. Above my head, he stares daggers into Conrad’s back.
We fall into step with the rest of the of the dancers. Every turn is flawless. Every step I take, he follows with his own.
Asa stares down at me. Stubbornly, I stare right back at him. We’ve moved across this ballroom floor before. I fell deeper in love with him the night of my debut ball. As he spun me across the room with the scent of gardenias in the air, I thought he might love me back.
I thought life might lean in my favor.
I couldn’t predict what was to come next.
I can’t bear to think of the past anymore and look away first. “Where is Juliet?” I ask.
“She went home with my parents.”