Laine leaned over. “You okay?”
“Just have this killer headache I can’t get rid of. But I’ll be fine. I’ll grab something when we leave.”
Riley took a long drink and rubbed the back of her head. When she lifted it, she caught Winnie’s smile. It shone as bright as the rhinestones on her outfit did when they caught the lights from the stage. She looked at Tamyra. The young woman who didn’t even want to look you in the eye five days ago now didn’t take her eyes off of the stage. Their deep blackness was lit with a brightness of one who was living. She turned toward Laine. She hadn’t mentioned if she had talked to Mitchell, but then again, Riley hadn’t stopped long enough to ask. But whether she had or not, the woman sitting next to her was not the beast who had arrived less than a week ago.
She smiled to herself and took another long drink from the bottle. Her friendship with these women made no sense. They had all wanted to kill each other at some point. Wanted to hug each other at times. Laughed during all the moments they weren’t crying or yelling. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, her heart had connected to these women with an intensity few of her friendships had ever produced. She had known she would enjoy her job, but she had never known she could enjoy it this much.
One of those “divine setups,” as Josalyn would say. Yes, she had been set up perfectly. She glanced at Christian. He caught her eye and winked at her. The kindness from that man overwhelmed her. She couldn’t perceive anything in him to contradict this deep, genuine kindness. He had admitted his faults in his marriage, was candid about his imperfections, and she was sure they were there. But there was also this sweetness that couldn’t be masked. Riley glanced over her shoulder; Mia gave her a quick wave and one of her bouncing smiles. This girl had saved her behind all week. She would be a friend long after the others were gone, and this was just another reason to be grateful for where life had her now. For more than a moment Riley had forgotten the pounding in her head. Maybe she was just thirsty.
The concert ended with two encores and three hundred satisfied guests. Max sidled up next to her. “They want to go to the nightclub for a little while before they head out.”
“Yeah?”
He touched her arm softly. “I’d like you to join us, just because it would be good for business, but if it would be too difficult, I don’t want you to put yourself—”
She patted his hand, stopping him in midsentence. “It’s okay. I can handle a nightclub. I still like to dance,” she said, giving him a reassuring wink.
Obviously his guests wanted more fun before they flew back to Miami. And it wasn’t the alcohol that would bother her. It would be the music that could possibly ramp up the pounding in her temples. Riley turned back to her ladies. “Would any of you like to go to the nightclub for a few minutes of dancing?”
Riley glanced at Winnie, whose hand had quickly flown to her chest. Tamyra pulled her hand away and looked at Max. “We’d love to. Winnie loves to dance.”
Winnie’s eyes darted to her.
Max clasped his hands together, still at Riley’s side. “Great. We’ll see you on the dance floor.”
“Tamyra Larsen, I do not dance.”
Tamyra wasn’t going to be deterred. “Have you ever tried it? And if you say, ‘I’m Baptist,’ I promise you I will scream. Have you ever once danced?”
Winnie tugged at the edges of her pink denim jacket. “Once. I danced. Well, okay, five times. Sam always wanted to take dance lessons, and so he finally talked me into five lessons at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio.”
“And you never danced again?” Tamyra pressed.
She dropped her head slightly. “No. We never danced again.”
Laine interrupted. “The question is, did you like it?”
Winnie gave her that Winnie eye and paused for a moment; then her nose turned up along with the edges of her smile. “I really did. I loved every minute of it.”
Tamyra’s face showed an almost pity for her new friend. “Then why didn’t you ever go back?”
“Sam got sick. We couldn’t.”
Tamyra wrapped her in her arms. “I’m so sorry, Winnie. I’m so sorry.” She let her go and stepped back.
Riley reached out a hand. “Tonight you will dance, Winnie.”
“Yes, Riley knows all about dancing,” Laine spouted. “She went to one of those Holy Roller churches when she lived in Charleston. She knows all about dancing. And no telling what else, from what I hear about them.”
“Keep it up, Laine, and I’ll make you go with me,” Riley quipped from over her shoulder.
As they left their table, Riley spotted Albert about the same time he spotted Winnie. She looked behind her and saw that Winnie had seen him too. “Why don’t you ask him to join us?”
Winnie turned sharply to Riley. “Join us?”
“I bet he’d enjoy it.”
“You owe him far more than dancing after what you did to him last night,” Laine said.
Tamyra elbowed her.
“I don’t mean that. I just mean she owes him . . . coffee . . . shuffleboard . . . whatever people her age do.”
Winnie stepped away from all of them and made her way to Albert. None of them heard what she said to him, but as they walked out the door, Albert was walking with Winnie. Apparently he was joining them for some dancing.
Riley took a few steps and felt a strange heaviness wash over her. She grabbed a chair and looked around. Thankfully, no one saw her. This must be a migraine or something, though the throbbing
