Chapter Nine #3
The band began a slow jazz standard. Couples moved toward the small dance floor.
"Dance with me," Alexander said.
Not a question. Not quite an order. He held out his hand and waited for consent to complete the sentence.
Eleanor gave him hers.
He danced without display, one hand warm at the center of her back, the other holding hers at shoulder height.
She had forgotten the pleasure of being guided by someone who listened to resistance instead of imposing direction.
Alexander adjusted when she moved. He did not pull her closer until she chose it.
"People are watching," she said.
"They were watching before we danced. At least now we are enjoying it."
"Are you?"
"Immensely."
His thumb moved once against the silk over her back.
"We should discuss the commission," she said.
"A stirring thing to whisper while dancing."
"The feasibility report is complete. Priya and I submitted it this morning instead of next month."
"Because it is ready?"
"Because it was ready. And because I no longer want unfinished work between us."
Alexander's steps did not falter. His hand tightened slightly around hers.
"Eleanor."
"I am not asking you to take me upstairs."
"Pity."
Heat rose beneath her dress. "I am telling you that when the independent committee accepts the report, I intend to renegotiate our professional roles."
"And our other roles?"
"Those should not require a committee."
His gaze settled on her mouth.
The song ended.
Martin applauded from behind them.
He stood at the edge of the floor with Celeste beside him in silver-gray. They looked handsome together in the polished, magazine-ready way Eleanor and Martin never had. The observation hurt. It also seemed irrelevant.
"Quite an entrance," Martin said.
Alexander's hand remained at Eleanor's back. "Good evening."
Celeste smiled at Eleanor. "Red suits you."
"Thank you."
"You've had a productive few weeks. The mural photographs are lovely."
"They haven't been released."
"The historical society showed us a preview."
Nora, ten feet away, looked sharply toward them.
Martin took a glass from a passing tray. "I hope you've considered how this appears to the licensing board."
"They have my disclosure," Eleanor said.
"A disclosure does not erase influence."
"Nor does a wedding ring erase adultery, as we have both learned."
His smile thinned. "You always did save the sharpest version of yourself for strangers."
"You made yourself one."
Celeste touched his sleeve. "Martin, don't."
The gentleness sounded practiced. Eleanor understood the performance only after noticing a phone angled toward them from a nearby table.
"We're being recorded," she said.
Celeste's eyes moved briefly to the phone.
Alexander stepped between the camera and Eleanor. "Daniel."
Daniel crossed the room, accompanied by the event manager. The phone lowered.
Martin's face carried injured dignity. "This is a public benefit."
"It is a private ticketed event," Alexander said. "You have attempted to provoke my consultant while your associate records her. Leave."
"You cannot order everyone out of a room because they make you uncomfortable."
"I can ask the host to remove guests who violate the event policy."
The event manager, a woman of seventy with silver braids, arrived beside Daniel. "Mr. Mercer, Ms. Avery, your table has been refunded. Good night."
Celeste's expression went flat. "This is a mistake."
"Probably," the woman said. "Still the door."
The room watched Martin and Celeste leave.
Eleanor hated the spectacle. She hated more the small part of herself that wanted Martin to look back and see what he had lost.
He did look back.
His gaze moved from her red dress to Alexander's hand at her waist. The regret she had once imagined wanting appeared too late to be satisfying.
After dinner, Eleanor stepped onto the balcony above the harbor. Fog blurred the fishing boats into lights without bodies.
Alexander joined her. "I'm sorry."
"You did not bring them."
"I had them removed."
"They were recording me."
"Yes."
"Thank you for noticing."
He stood beside her at the rail. "Do you still intend to let the committee decide tomorrow?"
"More than ever."
"And afterward?"
Eleanor turned toward him. The doors behind them opened and closed, releasing music, then shutting it away.
"Afterward," she said, "I want you to take me back to the inn."
Alexander's eyes held hers. "The committee cannot meet until Monday."
"The report is complete. Daniel has confirmed the disclosure. The rest is our decision."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"Not anger at Martin?"
"No."
"Not a need to prove that you can?"
"Alexander."
"I need to know."
She put her hand against his chest. Beneath the formal shirt, his heart beat hard and steady.
"I have wanted you every day for six weeks," she said. "I have wanted you while discussing drainage, eating pickles, and watching you pretend not to wait for me in the orchard. Martin no longer gets to be the explanation for my desire."
Alexander covered her hand with his.
"Come back to the inn with me," he said.
"Yes."