Chapter 17

We take a break. I’m gasping for air and gagging for a beer, but before I can get a hold of sufficient quantities of either, Carlotta tows me back out onto the floor. “Oh sure, you’ll learn for him,” she teases.

“I’ve learned from you, too,” I protest. “You always say I’m a better dancer than I think I am.”

She moves my hand from her hip to her shoulder, takes the lead and launches us across the floor. “You are,” she says. “Now.”