Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,143

me in the chest. “Are you hearing this? This beautiful woman—who lives right above you—is new to the city and you haven’t even taken her out to show her the town?”

The blood rushed to my face on a heated current of embarrassment that left me tongue-tied. “I don’t…I...”

“There’s a bunch of us going to Café du Nord on Market Street. Have you been?”

“Never heard of it,” Darlene said.

“It’s a throwback, speakeasy kind of scene,” Jackson said. “Is swing dancing part of your repertoire?”

Darlene’s grin widened. “It’s been a while, but yes.”

Jackson clapped his hands together once. “Great. We’re meeting some friends at Flore for dinner and then walking up to the club. You’re officially invited to come with us.”

Her glance darted to me. “I’m trying to imagine Sawyer the Lawyer dancing.”

Jackson laughed again. “Sawyer the Lawyer? Holy hell, I love this woman already.” He clapped me on the shoulder and gave me a fond look while I glared daggers. “He can’t dance for shit but I’m convinced it’s only because he doesn’t have the right instructor.”

I rolled my eyes as if his comments were no big deal, but the blood was leaving my face, heading due south at the idea of dancing with Darlene.

“It sounds awesome,” she said. “Thank you so much for inviting me. Give me half an hour?”

“Of course,” Jackson said. “Head down to Sawyer’s place when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Darlene said. She glanced at me almost shyly, her cheeks pink, before shutting the door.

Jackson turned to me with a triumphant look on his face that morphed into confusion at my hard stare.

“What?”

“What the hell, man?” I dragged him away from Darlene’s door.

“I’m just being a good friend,” Jackson said as we took the stairs down. He stopped at the bottom and turned, put his hand on my shoulder. “I appreciate your dedication to your work, but I cannot let you turn down the chance to see that woman—” he pointed a finger at Darlene’s door— “dressed up to go out and dance. You going to say no to that? And Ma’s been dying to see Olivia again.” His eyes widened with mock alarm. “You going to say no to Henrietta?”

I laughed despite myself. “I can’t dance for shit, remember? Not exactly the best way to impress a woman.”

“Details, details.” He waved a hand. “You’ll thank me when a slow song comes on.”

In my place, Henrietta was sitting on the floor with Olivia, playing with blocks. She looked up when we came in, the same conspiratorial smile on her face as her son’s. “Well?”

“It’s on,” Jackson said.

Henrietta laughed and clapped her hands together. “Oh baby, you should see your face,” she said to me. “Go on now, get ready. This little angel and I have some catching up to do.”

It was useless to argue, and part of me realized I had no intention of arguing at all. I took a quick shower and then dressed in black slacks, a dark gray dress shirt I hadn’t worn in a year, and a jacket.

Twenty minutes later, Darlene knocked on the door. Jackson opened it and a low whistle issued from between his teeth. “Darlene, you’re a vision,” he said “Don’t you agree, Haas?”

He stepped aside to let Darlene in, and closed the door behind her. My heart nearly fucking stopped beating in my chest; I don’t think I’d ever been so glad for my photographic memory in my entire life.

I took her all in, every detail. Her sleeveless dress hugged her slender body in black silk, then flared out at the waist. Instead of her usual combat boots, her shoes were the black, low-heeled, strappy kind dancers wore, and she carried a black coat in her arms. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face on the sides and curled softly down over her shoulders. She’d done her eyes in smoky shadow; and the dark of her clothing and makeup left me transfixed by her translucent skin and fire-engine red lips that stood out, like white and red slashes of paint in a dark masterpiece.

I blinked from staring at her to realize she was staring at me.

“Hi,” she said, a nervous little smile. “You clean up good, Sawyer the Lawyer.”

“Ha!” Henrietta cackled and slapped her thigh. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.” She got up and came over to Darlene and took both her hands in hers.

“Why, aren’t you an angel?” she said. “I’m Henrietta, Jackson’s mother.”

“So nice to meet you. Your son is quite a charmer,” Darlene