Excerpt of Catalina Kiss by Tracy Ewens

Still nursing a bit of a headache from being at the party
last night, I enjoyed the peace and quiet. For a moment I
walked around the aviary and remembered it as a dance
hall when it was still back in Avalon. When Simon and I
were kids we would sneak into town and peek in the side
windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the coolest new
dance or some couple holding each other too close. I was
never much of a dancer; it always seemed like a passive,
typical girl thing to do. Besides, why did the man always
lead? But a good slow dance was admittedly, at least to
myself, a joy. There’s something so elegant about holding
another person in your arms and moving in unison. The
perfect slow dance should be synchronized, not one
leading the other, but leading together. I closed my eyes
and swayed with the broom in my hands, drifting for a
moment into my own world and that kiss from last night…
the moonlight glistening in their hair, that kiss was…

“Uh-um.” A person behind me cleared his throat. Even with
that slight sound, the voice was familiar. Please don’t
let it be him, I thought, please anyone but him.

“Can I cut in?” Michael said. I could hear the smile,
more of a snicker, in his voice.

“Sorry, my dance card is full,” I turned toward him,
refusing to be embarrassed in his presence one more time.
He was smiling and I steadied myself with the broom.

“This place is lookin’ good,” he said, walking around the
aviary.

“We’re getting there. Why are you here?” I said curtly.

“Ah, I came to say hello and to drop off the proofs for
the signs,” he said, surprised by the chill in my voice.

“Charlie and Milt are at lunch. You may be able to catch
them in town.” I began sweeping again.

“I came to say hello to you, Gwen. I only saw you for a
minute last night when you and Simon were leaving.” He
was being generous. I wanted to scream, “You mean when I
was gawking at you kissing that woman?” But I contained
myself.

“Oh,” palms sweating now, “yeah, I thought that was you,
but we were in such a hurry and you looked…well,
occupied,” I said. “Frequent that place quite a bit, do
you? Different girl every weekend?”

“Not exactly. What’s that supposed to mean?” Michael
seemed taken aback.

“Well, the first night I saw you at Antonio’s I thought
you were with a blonde, and then last night—wasn’t she a
brunette? Different woman, right?”

Michael smiled that smile again, “Are you keeping score?”

“Look, Michael, I know what kind of guy you are. Women
are…trophies, collectables. Tourists, lonely women, no
commitments, no hard work, I get it. I appreciate your
help with the tile for the aviary and I’m sure you’re
quite a charmer, but I’m not interested. I’m not the kind
of woman you’re used to dealing with.” My heart was
racing by now, clearly betraying my harsh words. “I see
right through the sexy artist guy with the beautiful
eyes.” I was rambling again and he was looking down at
the floor, so I stopped. There was a long silence while I
put the brooms and brushes away.

“So you think I’m sexy?” he asked, smiling an even more
delicious smile.

“Yes!” I wanted to shout, but I wouldn’t be another notch
on that belt. I looked down and I kept myself busy. I
wasn’t winning this game. He clearly had the upper hand.

“You know, we could go somewhere and really dance, if you
wanted to…no brooms.” Michael turned up the corner of his
mouth and winked at me. Clearly my words had not deterred
him. Where did he learn this stuff?

“I…don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Michael said with a hint of
sympathy that really annoyed me.

“Afraid? Oh please, I’m not afraid,” I said rolling my
eyes. “What, because I don’t want to be paraded around a
dance floor like the flavor of the month? No, make that
flavor of the night for you.” I looked right into his
eyes. “I don’t dance. Dancing is for…well, it’s not for
me.”

“Gwen, dancing’s for everyone. You seemed to be enjoying
yourself with the broom there and Simon last night. I’m
sure your parents sent you to those fancy finishing
schools to learn to dance.” He knew he was getting under
my skin. He was watching me last night. How else would he
have known I danced with Simon?

“Oh, I can dance. I said I don’t dance. There’s a
difference. I’m choosing not to…”

“Have fun? Lighten up? Let your hair down?” Michael
interrupted.

“That’s right…all of that. I’m not that way,” I said,
trying to sound convincing. None of this made sense, but
I stood tall.

“Hmm. That’s a shame. Sad, actually.”

“Sad? Believe me, there’s nothing sad about me.” Now I
was angry. “You can’t deal with the fact that I’m not
fawning all over you and dying to put on the war paint
and attach myself to your arm. Two different women in a
few weeks and Lord knows how many there’ve been in
between.” I was on a roll. Keep breathing Gwen, you have
him on the ropes. “Is that how it works, Michael? Do you
take these women dancing first and then prance around
town telling the guys what ‘good girls’ they were? No,
thank you.” I turned to leave, make my dramatic exit.

“Wow, what happened to you? I’m talking about a dance; a
night out, and you’re acting like I want to enslave you.
Gwen, I’m not looking to own you, or any of the women I
spend time with for that matter. I want to get to know
you. There’s a difference. I think you’re interesting.
You don’t need the war paint, no uncomfortable dull
conversation, and believe me…no one would ever call you a
‘good girl’.”