MAYBE THIS TIME | JENLISA

11

"You found me!" Enrique called across the parquet dance floor as Jennie approached.

She curtsied. "After all the hype you gave this, it seemed foolish to miss out."

Enrique clapped. "No one can resist my Latin charm"—he swiveled his hips and danced toward her as the music changed over to a new song—"or my smooth moves. I get it."

Jennie let herself get swept into his arms and he moved them across the floor toward the other cruise guests, who appeared to be waiting for direction nearby.

He released her from his grasp and walked toward the speakers at the edge of the dance floor. Once he turned the music down, he addressed the group. "Welcome to Samba 101. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Enrique Martinez, and before you ask, although I look and dance like Ricky Martin, the name is merely a coincidence. Or a curse. I choose to embrace the coincidence side." He shimmied in place and the couples around her laughed.

Jennie looked over at the other guests and did a quick head count. There were a dozen of them, plus one. Her. An odd number didn't seem like it would work for this lesson. She suddenly felt very alone and second-guessed her decision to come.

"All right, ladies." Enrique stepped toward the group. "Are any of you familiar with this type of dance style?"

There were a few mumbles, some in confirmation, most not. He continued, "Not to worry. I'm here to make you an expert in the foundational footwork moves of the samba. You will leave here with a sway in your hips and a skip in your step, but more importantly, you'll leave here with one very sexy tool in your toolbox to attract the perfect mate." He paused with a grin. "And by sexy tool, I mean you will have samba skills. Not me. I'm sexy, but I'm my own tool, not yours."

More laughter. Enrique was charming. Jennie felt herself start to relax infinitesimally. He spent a few minutes explaining the African origins of the Brazilian dance style before he started the more formal lesson.

"Let's start with a lesson on how to shift your weight from foot to foot. Please form two parallel lines and mirror what I'm doing." Enrique jogged over to the speakers and turned on the music before resuming his place in the front of the room.

Jennie fell in line, and the woman on her right appeared to be a singleton like herself. There were four very definite couples here, and the rest of them, she couldn't quite peg. She stayed on the end of the line, nearest the edge of the dance floor, just in case she lost her nerve and decided to bail.

"Start with bringing your right foot behind you, shift your left foot forward a bit, and then slide the right foot forward to meet it." Enrique slowed his movements to a crawl, but he was still too fast for Jennie.

"You're kidding me." Jennie nearly tripped on her own feet in an attempt to bring them together. She was usually a pretty decent dancer, but this seemed like a reach for her.

"Can I help?" Lisa appeared at her side with a timid smile.

Jennie felt her face flush. The plan was to dance first, then find Lisa. That way she'd have time to chicken out. That plan didn't work if dancing and finding Lisa happened simultaneously. Particularly if Lisa found her first.

"I, uh—that all depends." Jennie closed her eyes and exhaled. "Do you know how to samba?"

She opened her eyes to find Lisa grinning broadly.

"Ah, my lovely assistant is here to help. Everybody, this is Lisa," Enrique called out over Jennie's shoulder.

Well, that answered that question.