Come Dancing Read Online Free PDF

with people hanging out.”
    “Who’s Mr. Iaccone?” His eyes were an extraordinarily deep brown.
    I smiled. “My eighty-year-old landlord. He likes to takes a broom to loiterers.”
    “I came by,” Jack said, rubbing his hand through his hair and making it stand on end, “to ask why you won’t come out with me. You aren’t even giving me a chance.” He pushed his lanky body up from the steps and smiled down at me, creating sexy creases on either side of his mouth. His maroon shirt was missing a few buttons; over it he wore a crinkled suede jacket that looked like a puppy had used it for a chew toy.
    Sammy had called Vicky to postpone their drink date, so I’d thought the whole thing was a non-starter. But I wasn’t about to let on that I was thrilled to my threadbare socks. “I have a manuscript in this bag that I’ve been trying to make headway on.”
    “Can I take a look? I’ve never seen a book manuscript.” His London inflexions would make a grocery list sound fascinating. When I hesitated, he said, “C’mon, enlighten me.”
    I unzipped my backpack and pulled out Timothy Collins’s doorstop, marked up in red ink.
    “Looks like you’ve done a lot of work on it already,” Jack said, taking it from my hands.
    “It needs it. I’ll be lucky to finish by July.”
    I watched as he rifled through the pages with his long fingers, still hardly believing that he was standing there. “What would be the most important part? This bit in the middle?” he asked.
    “All of it, really. I have to go through it and make suggestions. Half of which he’ll probably ignore.”
    “How about this?” He pulled the last forty pages out of the rubber band.
    “Yes, the ending’s pretty important. Leaving it out would be kind of like… when the radio cuts to a commercial before they play the last verse.”
    “Good. Then I’ll take this,” he said, folding the pages and stuffing them down his shirt.
    “Hey, I need that!” I reached out my hand. We only had one copy; Harvey would have my head if I lost a section.
    “You’ll get it back, don’t worry,” Jack said with a grin. He wrapped his arms around his chest. “I’ll give it to you tonight when you meet me for a drink. Where should we go, Fanelli’s?” He cocked a dark eyebrow mischievously.
    “You really aren’t going to give it to me?” I said, trying not to smile.
    “Sure I will, after we have our drink.”
    “Okay, Fanelli’s at eight. Does Vicky know?”
    “I’ll tell Sammy to make sure she comes. Do you always need an escort, or is it just me?”
    Taking the rest of my manuscript from his hands, I considered my answer as I unlocked the door.
    “It’s just you.”
     
    I called Vicky as soon as I got in. She didn’t know Jack was going to be waiting for me, but Sammy had mentioned they had a plan to get me to come out tonight. I told her I’d meet her at Fanelli’s, said goodbye, and tried to calm down. I kept picturing the way Jack’s eyes seemed to light up when he first saw me. To squelch my mounting excitement, I told myself that probably happened with any girl who caught his attention momentarily.
    I put on Billie Holiday and sang along to “Summertime” as I tried to figure out what to wear. I was so antsy, I mechanically tried on each of my four skirts while gulping a beer. What would I talk to Jack about—and why would he be interested in me? Was it that I presented a challenge, as Sammy said; a girl who didn’t bring him home right off the bat? Try to maintain your cool , I told myself. You’ll turn him off if he catches you drooling .
    Finally I gave up and put on jeans and a blue shirt with pearl buttons from Alice Underground, my favorite second-hand store. I fixed up my eyeliner and mascara, smeared on a little lip gloss, and then quit fiddling. Grabbing my backpack, I hiked up Mercer toward the familiar red neon “Café”.
    I opened the frosted glass door and waved at Hal. Squeezing past a raucous crowd, I