Vodka and Lemonade

It had been three months since Brian had re-introduced his friends to me. Since then, Val and Michelle had warmed up to me, and I even met Gena and Lacey- Zacky and Johnny’s girlfriends. I didn’t really know what to do with the girls at first. I had never had any “girlfriends,” so I was pretty awkward in the beginning, but they helped me figure everything out (such as proper techniques for shopping and gossiping, as well as how to make the guys squirm) and now we’re as close as can be- well, as close as I’ll allow, but they didn’t know that. Aside from Val and Michelle, they didn’t know what my actual jobs were (and even then, the twins didn’t know everything that I did).

“So it’s been three months,” Brian mused as we walked around Santa Monica. The city had become our safe haven from the outside world.

“So it has,” I said, briefly tightening my grip on his forearm.

He smirked down at me and gave my hand, which was interlaced with his, a gentle squeeze. “And?”

“And what?” I asked, returning the smirk.

“Do you feel any different about life? About love?” he emphasized with a nudge.

I shook my head and walked away from him, darting in between tourists and residents alike. He shouted and followed me at a slower pace. I would have made it onto the pier if this amazing music did not catch my ear. I quickly turned on the ball of my foot and hoofed it over to the source.

It was a large stereo blaring an old school hip-hop song. There was a group of people in front of it doing a choreographed routine that included rib slides as well as very impressive athletic feats.

“Safety Dance,” Brian breathed in my ear at the closing of the dance. His sudden voice made me jump because I was so enthralled with the group, that I completely lost focus of where I was. “And they weren’t too bad.”

A slightly overweight woman came out with a microphone. It was clear to me that she let herself go a bit. I knew because I had seen some of the older girls I worked with look every bit as washed up as she. “We teach all types of styles at Santa Monica Dance, including various ballroom dances. I present to you, the tango.” She faded into the background as a girl a little older than me and a clearly gay man (judging by his outfit and demeanor) stepped forward. A slow sultry beat started up as the two began to mesh into each other. I was hooked. It was every bit as intoxicating as a good strong liquor without the hangover.

Once the dance was over, I walked over to the owner. “I’ll learn anything you teach me.”

She looked me over with a scrutinizing eye. “You do the poles?”

I shrugged. “It pays the bills.”

“Still on the drugs?”

“I’ve mostly quit, but I’m trying real hard.”

She nodded her head. “I’m Rose Thomas. Call me tomorrow and we can set something up.” She added while passing me her business card. I pocketed it before slipping my hand in Brian’s.

“Happy?” he asked as he steered me back down toward the beach.

I took a deep breath. “actually, yes. I’m very happy,” I grinned back at him.

He squeezed my hand and kissed my forehead. “That’s all that matters.”