"Sing? Sidney?" Abigail's expression was genuinely perplexed. "You said you were looking for a singer a minute ago, but I thought I heard you wrong. Are you sure you were at the same wedding I was? No one sang."
"She did. Before the wedding started. She sang Barracuda by Heart. I've been thinking about it all afternoon. I think we could rewrite it a little bit and make a commercial for the shop. Like a hairspray rock production with Barracudas in the background. It would be hilarious. Does she have a band?"
Abigail looked completely dumbfounded. "Are you talking about the girl in the pink shirt with her hair parted over to the side?"
Lance checked to make sure. "Yes."
"She's a teacher, Lance."
"So?"
"So, no, she doesn’t have a band. She doesn't even sing—not that I've heard, anyway."
Lance gazed across the room. He knew what he heard. First of all, he had thought it was so funny and cool that she had the guts to sing classic rock to Mandy and Tim Foster. And second, those notes were not easy to hit. He had heard them with his own ears, and he wasn't mistaken—she sounded good.
He continued to watch Sidney cut up with Matt and the others at their table. Her joy was infectious, and it was all he could do to keep himself from walking over there.
"Is she single?" he asked.
He glanced at Abigail, and she smiled as her eyes widened. "Do you like her?" she asked. She had literally never seen Lance with a woman or heard of him dating anyone. She was sure he had dated over the years, but he was so focused on the store, that he never even had personal conversations with her or any of the other employees. He had certainly never brought a love interest to the shop.
"Is she single?" he asked again instead of answering her question.
"She is," Abigail said. "And she's wonderful. She's beautiful and funny. She walks on the beach a lot, and she collects shells and makes art out of them—picture frames and stuff. I don't know anything about her singing. I think you're tripping on that, but she's awesome for other reasons."
Lance hugged Abigail again, this time in a gesture of goodbye. There were people standing around, waiting for their chance to congratulate the bride. "Thank you," he said.
"Thank you," Abigail returned. "Seriously. We're so excited about the trip."
"You deserve it," Lance said with a smile. "Y'all have fun."
Lance wanted to walk straight over to Sidney's table, but instead, he went to talk to his sister.
"What'd you decide?" he asked Layla when he got close enough for her to hear him over the music.
"Trey's coming," she said. "He'll be here in fifteen or twenty minutes."
"Perfect," Lance said, holding his hand out and flexing his fingers as if expecting Layla to go somewhere with him.
She scowled. "Perfect for what?"
"I need you to dance with someone."
"What? No. My boyfriend's on his way up here."
"It's not like that," Lance said. "Please just come with me."
Without further argument, Layla stood. She fell into stride next to her brother as they made their way to the other side of the room.
"I'm trying to dance with this woman over here, and she's got one of her students with her. I want you to dance with him so I can dance with her. His name is Matt. He's the one in the bowtie, straight ahead."
"What if he doesn't want to dance with me?" Layla said.
Lance gave his sister in dubious glance. Layla was gorgeous. Any man in the room would dance with her if she was willing.
"Seriously," she said. "I'm not used to just walking up to guys and asking them to dance."
"I'll handle it," Lance said. "All I need you to do is be willing to dance with him once I set it up."
"Okay," she said. "But you owe me for this."
"Anything," he said.
Lance didn't even look at his sister as they spoke. His eyes were trained on Sidney. His heart quickened as they drew closer. He experienced a curious kind of longing as he regarded her. She had a certain type of magnetism, a kind of positive energy that radiated off of her. Her smile was contagious, and he grinned just looking at her. He couldn’t wait to get her on the dancefloor—to have her attention—to hold her in his arms.
She glanced his way and their eyes met. She had dark hair and eyes. She didn’t have on a lot of makeup, and she was naturally beautiful without it.
Lance thought she would look away like she did the other times, but she didn’t. She held his gaze. He grinned at her for it. Her wavy hair had fallen over one side of her face, and she ran her hand through it, still looking at him. He didn't know what he would say when he came up to her. Usually, he just improvised conversations—didn't even think about what he would say to someone before he walked up to them—but this girl had him feeling different, nervous.
Chapter 6
Sidney
Lance was walking straight toward me—looking right at me. I caught sight of him when there was twenty or thirty feet of space between us, and we stayed focused on each other as he came closer and closer. He wore a casual half-grin, moving toward me with long, confident strides like he owned the place.
My heart pounded.
My stomach clenched.
I found it difficult to find a breathing pattern.
I took short, panting breaths.
Why in heaven's name was he looking straight at me and walking straight toward me with that beautiful woman by his side? It looked like they said something to each other, but he didn't take his eyes from mine. I had been smiling, but I tilted my head curiously at him as he approached the circular table.
There was an empty chair a few places down on my right, and he came to stand behind it, looking like an Instagram model in his plaid jacket. He was so very masculine, but his eyes squinted when he smiled, giving him a sweet, approachable countenance.
"I'm Lance," he said, looking straight at me. "We met earlier today… sort of."
I gave him a nod as I continued smiling. "I remember," I said. Hopefully, I was succeeding in looking and sounding calm in spite of being dreadfully nervous.
He turned and gestured toward the woman at his side. "This is my sister, Layla."
My smile broadened. I couldn’t help it. It was involuntary—my face just lit up. The announcement that this gorgeous woman was his sister was the best news I had gotten all day.
"This is Matt," I said, motioning to my left. "And this is Stella, Rick, Manny, and Claudia," I added since the others at the table were watching us. "I'm Sidney. It's nice to meet you, Layla. And you, officially, Lance."
"Layla's got to leave in a few minutes," Lance said, still focused on me. "But she and I were hoping to talk you and Matt into joining us on the dancefloor for a song or two."
I glanced at Matt whose eyes widened comically. I giggled at him.
"Would you like to dance?" I asked.
He gazed intently at the dancefloor for a moment before looking at me again. "With you?" he asked.
I nodded. "With me, or maybe with Ms. Layla." I gestured toward Lance's sister, who smiled and waved at him.
"You mean go right now?" he asked.
I nodded again.
"What about the cake?" he asked.
"We can't eat it yet," I said. "We have to wait for Ash and Abigail to cut it."
"When are they?" he asked, glancing at the towering cake in the corner of the room.
"They'll make an announcement," I said. "We won't miss it, I promise."
"I don't know how to dance," he said, smiling shyly and shaking his head. I could tell he wanted to but was nervous.
"Sure, you do," I assured him.
I took my napkin out of my lap and set it on the table before holding out my hand to help Matt to his feet. We walked to the side of the table to join Lance and Layla. We stood there for a moment rather than heading straight out to the dancefloor.
I extended my hand to Layla. "It's nice to meet you," I said, shaking hers. "I'm a friend of Abigail's. We
both grew up down in Cutler Bay."
Layla smiled. "I'm a friend of Abigail's, too. She works at my family's store."
"You mean All Things Fish?" I asked.
She nodded.
"That belongs to your family? That's a nice place. I've been there before."
"Ms. Dixon's gonna take us to the aquarium," Matt said. "She got to go there today. I was supposed to, but she didn't pick me up in time. She's gonna take our whole class if we get enough money before the end of school."
"Who's Ms. Dixon?" Layla asked.
Matt turned and looked at me with a little confusion. "Her, right here. Ms. Dixon."
"Sidney Dixon," I said, with a little smile.
"How many do you have in your class?" Lance asked.
"Eight," Matt answered. "Well ten, counting Ms. Dixon and Ms. Michelle. But, half-the-time, Tyson don't come, so maybe he won't be there."
Lance looked at me. "I know the owners," he said quietly, nodding at me. I could tell he was trying to say he could help us get in, but he didn't want to say too much just in case I decided not to do it. I knew he could see that Matt's heart would be set on it as soon as he said the words.
"We'll see," I said. "I promised Matt we'd try to make it happen before the end of the year."
"That's only next month," Matt said. "I'm about to graduate."
"I'm graduating next month, too," Layla said.
"What school do you go to?" Matt asked.
"UM," Layla said.
"She goes to college," I explained.
Matt nodded. "The Miami Hurricanes," he said. "I was gonna go there for football."
"Matt's the best football manager our school's ever had," I said, patting his shoulder.
He swayed shyly as he closed his eyes. "I shoulda worn my letterman's jacket."
I smiled. "He probably could have had a full ride to UM, but he's gonna take a year off and think about his options."
He nodded. We were all silent for a second or two after I said that, and because I was no good with silences of any kind, even comfortable ones, I spoke up again. "So, I guess we should go on out there before Layla has to go," I said.
We all turned to walk toward the dancefloor. Matt and I were following behind Lance and Layla, and I had no idea how we were going to go about the business of switching partners once it came time for that. Lance took care of everything. He turned to us once we got to the edge of the dancefloor. Looking straight at Matt he said, "Would you mind dancing with Layla so that I could have a turn with Ms. Dixon?"
Matt looked at me with an uncertain expression. I didn't know if he wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to dance with Lance, or if he was shy about dancing with Layla. I smiled and nodded at him, letting him know that everything was okay.
The band had been playing Dream a Little Dream of Me, but just as we went out there, they began another song. The female in the band stepped to the mic, and I heard the beginning of Cyndi Lauper's Time after Time.
I gave Matt and Layla a quick glance, but I could tell that she was comfortable with Matt. Lance held his hand out, and I took it. My heart quickened, and my blood ran warm as I stepped closer to this man. The band had been playing a mix of slow and fast songs, and I was so happy that we had made it to the dancefloor in time for a slow one. Lance pulled me into his arms, positioning me in the standard partner dancing position. His left hand held my right, and his right hand wrapped around my waist. I lightly placed my left hand on his side, feeling out-of-my-mind with nerves and adrenaline at the sheer contact.
His hand was so big—he was so big. The feel of his callused palm and fingers under one hand and the soft fabric of his jacket under the other was sensory overload. Plus, he smelled really nice. I was absolutely breathless. We continued to step and sway slowly to the music. The movement and the proximity to him was completely intoxicating.
I glanced at Matt and Layla, for a little distraction, but they were doing fine without me. Layla was smiling at him as he said something to her.
"I'm glad you're here," he said.
The music was loud, so he lowered his head to my ear and spoke at a normal volume. His voice was deep, and it seemed to vibrate in my chest. Maybe my chest was just vibrating by itself.
"I'm happy to be here," I said. "And I'm glad you're here, too. Thanks for the dance."
"It's not over," he said.
"Well, I can still thank you for asking me."
"You certainly don't need to thank me for that, but you're welcome, anyway. Thank you for agreeing to it." There was a brief silence before he added, "Abigail didn't know anything about you being a singer."
I laughed at that. "That's because I'm not.
"I can't believe you would say that," he said. "Not after what I heard today. I've been thinking all afternoon about how we can make a commercial out of that song. It would be funny. We could make it really dramatic and rock-n-roll with video of real Barracudas in the background. I know a guy who could pull it off—a videographer-producer guy. We would change up the lyrics to fit the store, of course, but the tune would be just like the original song. It'd be classic. I guess you don't have a band, do you? I was thinking we could just hire your whole band to do it."
I stared at him in utter confusion before letting out another little laugh. "You sounded so serious."
"That's because I am so serious. It would be perfect. We'd rewrite the lyrics and make it a big dramatic production. It'd really be funny and awesome. I wish you would think about doing it."
He was completely serious, and I just stared at him for several seconds, feeling at a loss for words. I was already breathless just from dancing with him, and now this. I didn't even know what to say.
"Lance, I-I appreciate your confidence, but I'm not a singer."
"Yes, you are. I heard the notes come out of your mouth, plain as day. They must have carried over the tunnel or something."
"Well, I didn't mean for that to happen. I was just being silly with that lady who was standing next to me."
"So, you won't do it?" he asked.
"Is that why you asked me to dance?"
"No. Not even close. I mean, I want you to do it, but that's definitely not the only reason I asked you to dance. I listened to that song three or four times this afternoon. I even came up with some ideas for lyrics. I could really see it. I think it'd be so perfect. If it came down to it, I'd just hire somebody else. But I seriously want you to think about it."
"I didn't even know you owned that store until just now when your sister said it."
"Well, I do. My parents started it, and I took it over a few years ago."
"Hmm, that's really interesting. I had no idea. I bet there's lots of things about you that I don't know."
He smiled wryly at me. "My name's Lance Bennett Evans," he said thoughtfully. "I'm twenty-seven-years old. I run my family's business, and I stay incredibly busy doing that. I love being outside. I work outside as much as I can. Sometimes, I do what Abigail does and go out to sites to help them set up and care for aquariums and things. I do a lot of the bidding for new jobs, too. I love music, sports, food, and movies, but in no particular order. I have an older brother who's a surgeon and a younger sister who you've already met. My parents, Don and Maggie, have been together for almost forty years. They still live in the house where I grew up. It's about a mile away from mine. I'm not married and I don't have kids. I care a great deal about our business, and I'm always looking for ways to grow and expand it. That's why I want you to do a commercial for us. It would be a hit."
I was quiet for a second or two, letting all of that sink in. "That was a hard-sell," I said.
"Too much?" he asked, reluctantly.
I giggled. "No, I liked it. And if I was a singer, I'd be super honored and stoked to talk to you about it, but I'm just not a singer."
"What are you, then? Besides a teacher."
I took a deep breath, I could see my own chest expand with the effort. Time after Time played in the background an
d we continued to sway. "My name's Sidney Joan Dixon. I have a brother who's married with children. Two boys. They live in Orlando. Brandon manages a restaurant over there. We grew up in Cutler Bay, and I came to Miami for college. I graduated five years ago, and have been working at Riverview High ever since. I teach special ed for juniors and seniors, and I love my job. I go to a lot of the baseball and football games at Riverview—basketball and volleyball sometimes, too. The students keep me busy. I live in a condo downtown. I have a dog—a Blue Heeler named Sheila. She's dark—blue and black with a little brown on her face. She's super smart. We walk on the beach a lot. I like to collect shells. Sometimes I make things out of them. I live a relatively simple life. I kind of do the same things over and over." I smiled. "And never does it include singing with a band or making commercials."
Lance shook his head with a disappointed expression. "That's too bad," he said. "I think your life should definitely include making commercials—at least this one."
"I'm flattered, but I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. It was definitely flattering. It was tempting too, but I had no idea what I was doing and I didn't want to let him down since it was for such a big company.
"It's funny that you named your dog Sheila," he said.
"You think?"
He nodded.
"Why, cause it's a human name?"
"No, you said she was a Blue Heeler, right?"
"Yeah."
"Australian Cattle Dog. Isn't that what they call girls over there in Australia? Sheilas? So basically, you just named her girl."
"Literally no one else has ever figured that out. Even when I tell people about it, they still don't get it. I actually don't even mention it anymore because I feel like a big dork when they don't understand."
"How could they not understand?" he said. "It's obvious. Your name fits right in with the Australia theme, too," he added.
"It does. It's not spelled like the city, though."
"How's it spelled?"
"S-I-D-N-E-Y," I said.
He nodded.
It was a crazy feeling, standing this close to him. His eyes were dark blueish grey like storm clouds. I could only see the color of them when the lights shone on him just the right way, otherwise they looked like midnight. He had masculine features—a straight nose and a strong jaw. He was so big that I felt shielded and protected in his arms, like the whole room could collapse on us, and I'd still be okay.
All In (Miami Stories Book 2) Page 4