Honey pressed the remote to start up the music again.

It was almost lunchtime, and the relaxing feeling from her morning was all but forgotten. Her shins ached from being kicked so much, but she was determined that this year’s demonstration dance would be the tango, so her shins would just have to deal with it.

She returned to Wade Travers as he tapped his foot impatiently. He was a big strong guy, and handsome, with blond hair and blue eyes.

Honey had learned the hard way that he was also a self-important ass.

Wade was not the man of her dreams - literally or figuratively.

But he was the dance partner of her current reality.

“Okay,” Honey said. “Let’s listen for the slow counts. Remember, you’re stepping forward left first, then forward right, okay?”

“Why are you wearing that?” Wade’s voice was slightly whiny. He liked when she wore a sports bra and leggings, as she did when teaching the advanced ballroom class.

Today she’d thrown a practice dress on top for his session. He’d gotten too grabby last time and she didn’t want to be accused of leading him on, or any of the other awful things he charged her with from time to time.

He could have any girl in the place. Honey had no idea why he was still obsessed with her. They’d gone out for a little while, and she’d been taken by his good looks, at first.

But those few weeks of casual dating had led Honey to recognize pretty quickly that they weren’t meant to be.

Unfortunately, those same few weeks were apparently enough to lead Wade to think he owned her forever.

“We need to be ready for the performance,” she said with as much patience as she could muster. “The dress is important to get used to.”

Wade didn’t bother to answer. He was pouting.

“You know, you don’t have to do this,” she offered for about the hundredth time. “I can ask Thaddeus Klein.”

Suddenly Wade pulled her close, his hand on her waist too tight for dancing. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

“Of what?” she asked, trying to extricate herself from his grasp.

He resisted letting her go at first, and then released her just as she was beginning to get scared.

It was always this way with Wade. He was just creepy enough to get her hackles up and then he eased off before it got to the point that she could say he was unequivocally doing something wrong.

If he’d been any other guest, she would have pawned him off on another instructor by now. But Wade’s father was a major stakeholder in the resort. And the resort wasn’t exactly swimming in money these days. Every time another stakeholder died, the widow cashed out and moved on. Soon there might be no more Maxwell’s.

“I was only kidding,” he smirked. “Do you want to dance or not?”

“Yes,” she said. “Of course.”

He held her properly and they began again.

Honey let the music flow through her until it sizzled in her chest. Then she began.

“One, two, three, four,” she whispered to Wade.

He began on the correct foot this time and she didn’t get kicked on the turn.

He was staring through her, a look of fierce concentration stiffening his features. Wade wasn’t a natural, but he was doing his best and she did appreciate it.

“Arms,” she whispered.

He straightened his arms slightly. Then he stepped on her foot.

“Damn it,” he said, stopping.

“You’re fine,” she told him. “That was so much better.”

He ran a hand through his hair and she started the music again as they got back into position.

“One, two, three, four,” she whispered.

He stepped on her foot immediately.

She winced. The oak floor didn’t have much give.

“Jesus,” he spat.

“Again,” she said firmly. “One, two, three, four.”

This time, he got off to a good start. They were just coming up to where they had left off before when her phone gave the double buzz that alerted her to a text message.

She ignored it. She’d find out who it was later.

They came to the first turn.

Wade swung her a little too hard but she managed to stay on her feet and get back to him in time with the rhythm.

Step, step, step, dip.

He almost let her head hit the floor, then swept her up so fast her neck ached.

No point correcting him. Let’s just get through it once.

He dipped her again as her phone did another double buzz.

“Just get it,” Wade said, yanking her up unceremoniously.

She bit her lip to stop herself from complaining and jogged over to where her phone sat on the table by the door.

It buzzed again before she could pick it up.

Posey Quinn:

Call me.

Posey Quinn:

It’s urgent.

Posey Quinn:

911

Good lord.

She glanced at the time. By rights, Wade had another ten minutes of dance instruction. Not to mention he was helping her with her demo, which clearly needed all the help it could get.

The phone buzzed again.

Posey Quinn:

Seriously, Honey, call me NOW. Please.

“Um, Wade, my friend is anxious to—” Honey began.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Put out your fire. I’ll see you later maybe?”

“Maybe,” she repeated as he walked out the door.

She closed it behind him and called Posey back, heading to the barre while the call connected. No reason not to get in her own stretches while talking with her friend.

The woman staring back at her in the mirror looked calm and in control.

Too bad Honey seldom felt that way.