a circle around him. “A little too good. I almost don’t want to take you out in public like that.”
“That’s my line,” he murmurs, grabbing me by the waist and stopping me with my body against his. “You look smoking hot, Bronte. Red looks good on you.”
“Thank you,” I reply, batting my lashes a little. “We clean up pretty well, don’t we?”
He twirls me and dips me back, kissing my neck. “Mmmhmm. I think we’re going to be naturals at the whole salsa thing.”
“We better go and find out.”
Jean’s dance studio is small and hard to find, located behind a factory. We hear the music as soon as we get out of the car, and excitement fills me. I probably shouldn’t allow myself to be so distracted, because we are here for research and nothing else, but I can’t help it. This is going to be fun.
Dee and Nadia are going to follow to our location and park on the next street over. When the class is finished, they are going to tail Jean and see where she goes. It’s a simple plan, but it should lead us somewhere and give us something to work with.
As we enter through the open glass doors, everyone stops to look at us. The class consists of mostly older ladies and gentleman and they are all dolled up for the occasion.
“Hello,” I say as I scan the crowd. I recognize Jean instantly, and from the surprised look on her face, I know she recognizes me too. “We’re here to join the class. The ad said we could just drop in for a trial.” I try to keep it light and friendly.
She’s quiet for a few seconds, but then catches herself. “Of course, yes, come on in. I’m Jean, and this is our salsa class for all levels. Welcome to the group.”
“I’m Bronte and this is Crow,” I introduce, offering her my hand. She takes it, with a very gentle hold. “We haven’t done any dancing before, but we like to think we have some rhythm.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she replies, forcing a smile and nodding toward the group. “Come and join us.”
She’s an attractive woman for her age, that’s for sure. All of us could only hope we look that good at her age. With her wavy brown hair, curvy yet slim build and big, bright eyes, she looks like she could belong in Hollywood.
There’s so many things I want to ask her, the first one being how did you know my dad, and the second being why haven’t I heard of you? Dad never dated after Mom—he said there was no one else for him—but this woman has me feeling a little unsettled. Was it her pink scarf I found at his house?
We join the group, heading for the back, and follow the instructions she gives us. We start in a neutral position and then learn the steps, the loud music setting the mood. We get the step forward and the backwards hip and foot movements instantly, and she explains the timing to us. We practice for the next ten minutes alone before we join with our partner and try out the steps together.
As soon as I face Crow and he looks me in the eye, I start feeling a little flustered, and miss the first step. We start over, and this time we both nail it, moving in sync. It’s just the basic movements, but it feels good to be able to do them.
“Told you we’d be good,” he says, grinning. “We’re naturals.”
He swirls me around the way she shows us, then pulls me back against him. It’s so easy to forget why we actually came here, especially with the sensual music and dance moves. I wish we were just here for the dance class.
When it comes to an end, I approach Jean alone and thank her for a wonderful class.
“You’re welcome. You and your partner are great dancers,” she commends, but I notice that she avoids my gaze.
“Thank you. I think you knew my dad, Freddy,” I blurt out, watching her reaction closely. It’s a bold move, but I want to see what she has to say.
She goes blank. “I’m sorry, I have no idea who that is. You must have me mistaken.”
My eyes widen as I realize she’s going to play that card. “Yes, I must. I’m sorry. Thanks again for the class. I’m sure we will be back.”
Lying can only mean one thing: she has something to hide.
And