center. It was my wife’s idea, if I must be honest, though. I’d love for you to meet her, Ms. Robinson. There she is, the one in the green dress. She’s on her second dance. See, you’ll sign up here and get a number, then begin your dance rotation, with your date being your last dance for the evening.” He smiled adoringly at his wife as she spun around the dance floor with another older gentleman.
“I’d love to meet her,” Babette said, beaming as she turned and looked at Jeff. “In fact, I can’t wait to meet everyone here this evening. And the dancing will be so much fun, what a great idea!”
Jeff scanned the room and immediately saw why she was suddenly so happy, and why he had messed up completely. He always bought tickets to the benefits around town, but didn’t attend that many. They were usually coordinated by the older crowd and typically, the activities weren’t his thing. So he wrote a check to help the cause and that was that. Now he realized that apparently the only business owners who actually attended the events were the seniors. There wasn’t a person on that dance floor under sixty, and Babette looked mighty damn pleased about it.
“So, who do I dance with first?” she asked, and was steered toward a stately elderly gentleman on the other side of the room.
“Your first dance belongs to Mrs. Rytower,” the man said, and Jeff turned to see a chubby woman with red cheeks fanning herself behind him. She was in her late sixties or early seventies, and her dark gray curls were held in place with bejeweled pins, like something a teen would wear, but admittedly, they suited her “look.” She had on a pale turquoise mother-of-the-bride dress, but the color matched her eyes, and the cut was simple but elegant. Jeff grinned to himself. He could leave the Eubanks store, but he couldn’t turn off the analysis of clothing.
“Mrs. Rytower,” he said, extending a hand and deciding that if he were here, he might as well enjoy himself. “I’m Jeff Eubanks, and I believe this dance is mine.”
Her hand flew to her chest and she gushed. “Why, Mr. Eubanks, I know who you are. I love your stores. So nice of you to join us tonight. I saw your name on the list, but I didn’t think you usually came to the events. Most of the younger folks don’t.”
“And just look what they’re missing,” he said, leading her out on the dance floor.
She laughed, then giggled again when he spun her around. “Do try to get more of them to attend. I head several of the committees, you know. And your date. She’s absolutely breathtaking. Be sure to bring her back, and that’ll make sure to get all of these men to return.” She glanced toward Babette, laughing at something her newest senior partner said.
Jeff grinned. Babette was having a ball, and he was too, not only dancing, but also watching her have so much fun. She moved from a white-haired man to a silver-haired to a bald one, and with each of them, she danced like she was the queen of the ball, but always remembered to wave to their wives. The women looked at her like they would a daughter, not as a threat, because that was the way Babette obviously viewed this interaction, as something akin to when a woman dances with her father or grandfather at her wedding.
By the time they’d both danced with all of their partners and prepared for the last dance, Babette was practically panting.
“That Mr. Moffett says he’s seventy-six, but he’s got more energy than I had at twenty,” she said, grinning at Jeff as she approached him. “And by the way, I believe it’s my turn to have a turn with the young fellow.”
“You’re a riot,” he said, silently applauding when the band moved into a slow song and he had a justifiable reason for pulling her close.
“What? Are you disappointed that I haven’t flirted tonight? Trust me, I was tempted, especially when Mr. Zimmerman showed me how he could still balance on one foot.”
“He didn’t.”
“He did.” She laughed, looked up at him, and then ran her fingertips along his temple. “Why, Mr. Eubanks, you’re hot.”
“You’re not the first woman to think so,” he said, and couldn’t hold back a smirk. “But if you must know, you’re rather glowing yourself, Ms. Robinson.”
“Maybe we should go out with the seniors more often,