Telltale Tango | Complete

Five - Giselle

I cannot believe he would have the audacity to walk back into that bar. Like after striking out with me, he decided to give it another go the next night? Or was that always his plan?

The cool evening air rushes through the narrow alleyway, and Feliciano's warm hand is the only thing keeping me from bursting into tears or rage.

"How did I get so unlucky?" I finally speak when we emerge from the alleyway into the crowded sidewalk of what looks like fourteenth avenue.

"You know, a guy could get a complex if you keep asking questions like that." Feliciano's smirk pulls me out of my head.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean you, I just--" Running my hand through my hair normally works to calm me down. And it might have tonight, too, if Priya hadn't tied the front part up into some intricate knot-like thing.

So instead of a nice calming moment to breathe, I wind up with my mother's ring caught in my braid. Pulling is no use, so I just lean against a nearby lamp post and flip Feliciano a little smirk in return. "Bet you're really lucky you have me to hang out with tonight."

"Oh yes, I'm not sure I can think of a better evening than running away from a stalker and getting your hands caught in your hair."

"Hey!" I swing my free hand at his shoulder. "Are you going to help me or not?"

He dodges out of my way and into oncoming traffic, almost taking out a stroller and a lady with a cane before crashing into the lap of a wheelchair user. "Terribly sorry," he says, dusting himself off. "You know how it is, trying to impress the ladies."

The man just waves his hand and shakes his head, continuing down the street as if he hadn't been attacked by a wild animal in the middle of the pathway.

"We are having a wonderful night tonight," I sigh when he returns, his fingers working through my hair to try to extract my ring. "Maybe we should just call it and go get a coffee or something."

"A coffee?" He pulls back and raises his eyebrows, hair shining under the light of a newly illuminated street light installation. "You really want to get a coffee at seven-thirty in the evening? Are you planning on staying up all night?"

On the plus side, I am no longer cold, as the embarrassment of my inability to date flares through me like a river breaking through a dam. Priya would say this is what happens when a person doesn't date for too long. She'd say I've lost my flair.

She might be right.

"Hey," he says, eyes right in front of mine. "I've almost got your ring loose, and I don't want that jerk to ruin our night. Can I take you someplace nearby for a bite to eat? My treat."

The bright lights from nearby stores and the bustle of the traffic remind me why I'm here. "Yes. You may. But I'm paying."

"We'll figure that out when we get there. You're all free." He shows me my hand. "I like your ring, by the way."

"Where'd you get so good at untangling hair from jewellery?"

He offers his arm, and I accept, watching a little girl skip down the sidewalk rather than listen to what Feliciano is saying. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"I said it's a trick of the trade."

"I wasn't aware bartending required this type of skill." Everything about him screams ease and honesty, but I've been burned before.

"I think if you spend enough time around less-than-sober people, you'll see what I mean. No skill is useless in that group. You should see me peel an orange. A real crowd-pleaser."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." He nods sagely. "If you want, we can cut through the mall to keep warmer."

The man is reading my mind. "So, besides bartending, do you do anything else for work? Is this what you want to do for a career? Are your parents okay with it, or are they like mine and get all judgy when you decided not to be a mathematician?"

"That's a lot of questions," he laughs as he pulls the mall door open and bows. "After you, my lady."

"Touching your nose to the floor won't get you out of the question," I quip. But it is kinda nice to have someone do something sweet for me. The warmth I'm feeling is definitely from the heater in the mall.

Either way, it's most welcome. My fingers grow prickly from the warmth of Feliciano's hands. "How are your hands warm after all that time running through the cold?"

"Another trade secret." He leans in to whisper in my ear. "I think it's genetic."

"Your parents were space heaters, too?"

"Just my dad, if I had to guess." He smiles and pulls me out of the way to avoid getting trampled by a large group of high school students, heavily distracted by a discussion of some new show I'd never heard of.

"What about your parents?" He asks, letting me thread my arm through his. "They live in town?"

"They do. I don't see them very often. They're still a little upset about the mathematician thing." And the fact that I didn't marry the man we don't talk about. And the fact that they really seem to want to talk about him.

"That's a bummer. Did you ever want to become a fancy math professor or?"

"Not really. My dad really wanted me to make something of myself, I guess. You know how parents are."

"I really do."

I don't even notice the mall pass us by, so engrossed in the sound of his voice, I'm barely catching what he's saying. Finally, we reach a large open area with an elevator in the middle. "We'll go this way," he says, pointing down the narrowest of the nearby hallways. "I know it's a little creepy looking, but it's the least outside of the options. I want to show you something."

Perhaps he can sense my apprehension because he hastily adds, "I can take you the long way if that's better."

Deep breath, Giselle. You are safe, and that is a perfectly valid mall hallway with security cameras and exterior doors, and he's taking you outside. You will be just fine. Nothing is going to jump out at you.

"It's Wyatt."

"What? Where? I cannot believe he followed us through all of that!"

"No, not here. The reason I'm so jittery about going through dimly lit hallways. Oh, that jerk is not taking this from me. There's food at the end?"

His shoulders visibly relax, and he nods. "Yes, I can promise food."

"Then let's go." I grab his hand and drag him down the hallway, the heels of my boots clicking on the ground and echoing through the mostly empty chamber. "I'm ready for some food."

"Do you always walk this fast, chica? I'm wearing the wrong pants for this amount of exercise."

I finally release his hand when we reach the exterior door and the gust of cold air bursts inside. Bowing, I pretend to tip my hat to him. "After you." I risk a look up under my eyebrows to see him smiling and shaking his head, zipping up his coat before stepping out onto the street.

"Keep up," he laughs, offering me his hand and weaving through an increasingly dense crowd of people all milling about with food in their hands. 

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