Learning to Dance

The music changed, and a salsa rhythm crept in to the
music.
“I hear some Mexican in your voice,” The false Mr.
Brown said. “So should I assume that you are familiar with
this dance?”
She matched his steps, right-left-right, left-right-left.
Even after all these years, it was a part of her, all those
nights her mama had spent teaching her to salsa for her
quinceañera. Mr. Brown certainly knew what he was doing.
He pulled her closer and they tested each other, each step
growing more complex, check forward, side step, spot turn.
As he spun her, she saw that others nearby had stopped to
watch them. Up was still standing darkly at the bar, his
arms crossed, his gaze on her.
Taz was getting out of breath, and no closer to figuring
out where Mr. Brown was keeping the information
diamond. As the music built to a feverish pitch, she found
herself being turned and dipped, suddenly looking at the
world upside down, and the small crowd that had gathered
burst into applause.
Pulling her upright again, Mr. Brown bowed. “Do let me
know if you’re ever in need of a new dance partner for the
championships,” he said, kissing her lightly on the hand,
and disappeared into the crowd.
Taz was flushed, and feeling stupid. At least now they
had his identity. She made her way back to the bar where
Up stood before anyone else could ask her to dance. He
didn’t look very happy.
“It’s getting awfully hot in here, isn’t it, sweetheart?” he
said loudly. “Let’s go for a walk.”
She followed him out of the ballroom, Up leading them
toward the wide stone balcony overlooking the gardens.
They stood and leaned against the rail, taking in the view.
Couples walked the floating garden paths, holding hands,