Free Just One Night. Part 1 by Elle Casey

has needed more than her fair share of protection over the years.
    “I could give you a list of reasons,” she says.
    “I would wager your list has flaws.”
    “I just sneezed so loud I ruined two gowns and a tuxedo. With one sneeze. I am an agent of destruction.”
    “I only counted one tuxedo involved in the mishap, and it’s black. It won’t show a thing.”
    She’s battling a smile. “I ruined my makeup and my hair. Your date looks like a homeless woman.”
    “My date looks better without makeup, and I like the freshly … well, let’s just say I like tousled hair better than a style that’s just so.”
    “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
    I lift a brow just as I would with Ms. Meechum. I am not too proud to use intimidation to get what I want, and I still plan to have my way with this gloriously sexy lady. “Are you calling me a liar?”  
    “I’m calling you a gentleman, not a liar.”
    I hold out my arm and turn to be at her side. “Very well, then. I can live with that.”
    “Where are we going?” she asks, reaching up and tucking my silk square into my front pocket. She sniffs once more and I’m happy to find that her voice is not nearly as nasally as it was a few moments before. She’s on the mend.
    “To dance. I have to show you my slick moves. Trust me, they’ll help you forget everything that’s just happened.”
    “I hope not everything,” she says as we begin to walk.
    I hesitate and stare down at her. “Ah, right.” I come to a complete stop. “I was in the process of begging your pardon for my earlier indiscretions. Shall I continue?”
    “Not if you don’t want to be slapped.”
    I pause to consider that. “That might actually be enjoyable.”
    She laughs, and the sound is like beautiful bells to my ears. “You did nothing that needs to be apologized for.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “Let’s go have some fun.”
    I lift her hand and place it into the crook of my arm as we continue our walk to the dance floor, smothering the smile that wishes to come forth and make me look the mad fool. “Very well, then.” At this rate I’ll surely wake with facial cramps on the morrow. I haven’t smiled as much in years.
    The music changes to a waltz as we reach the floor, and Jennifer stops walking.
    “What’s the matter?” I ask, now slightly ahead of her.
    “I can’t dance to this,” she says, glancing at the floor worriedly as the crowd clears out and just one older couple remains.
    I turn to face her. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to dance.”
    “No.” She releases my arm and puts a hand on a hip. “I’ll have you know that when there’s current music on, I’m a very good dancer.” Her chin goes up a speck.
    “I believe you’re afraid.” I shake my head in mock-sadness. “A pity to waste such a beautiful gown over something as silly as waltzophobia.”
    She giggles. “I don’t have a phobia of waltzing.”
    I step out onto the dance floor and extend my hand. “Prove it. Share this dance with me, Cinderella.”
    “I can’t!” she says in a loud whisper, glancing around to see who’s watching.
    I look past her. “Oh dear. Don’t look now, but you have competition approaching, twelve o’clock. Better change your mind quickly or all will be lost.”
    She twists around to see the solicitor lady from my building coming in our direction with purpose. The woman reminds me of a cobra, ready to strike with her aquiline features and the black and brown color of her clingy, sequined gown. I don’t really plan to dance with her, but Jennifer doesn’t know that. Apparently, there are no depths to which I will not sink when this woman is in my presence and yet remaining just out of reach.
    “William!” the woman says as she approaches.
    Jennifer jumps into action, taking my hand and stepping into my arms as if she always planned to.
    I turn my date to the side and gather her in closely, placing one hand on her lower back and