Come Dancing Read Online Free Page B

level was low-paying, but working with novelists and Pulitzer winners seemed much more exciting than academia.
    My mother didn’t understand why I wanted to live in one of the most dangerous cities in the world. She’d thought I was going to teach English in our local high school after college. At times, when it hit me how slim my chances were for moving up at work, I worried about winding up back there. I was terrified of proving her right by flunking out of my budding career; New York could rip you open like a wind-blasted flower.
    But anything would be better than moving back to Pikesville. That seemed like being buried alive. The thought of returning with my tail between my legs sent ice water through my veins. Back home, I would have been teaching participles to bored high school seniors who’d rather be scoring touchdowns, or pot. Braving the cockroaches and graffitied subways won, hands-down.

 
     
     
Chapter 4
    Stormy Monday
     
     
    Vicky called me Sunday afternoon. I was standing in front of my open fridge, trying to get some relief from the sweltering heat. “I still can’t believe you didn’t let Jack come home with you,” she said. “Just think, right now you could be licking whipped cream off every inch of his body.”
    I laughed. “Right now I could be wondering if I caught VD. And wishing he’d stayed in bed at least fifteen minutes before he dashed out to his next conquest.”
    “But Jules, you have to admit, he’s the coolest… I mean, what a sexy guy. And you’re so into their music … Anyway, you’re going to be a little mad at me.”
    “Why, did you give them my number? That’s fine with me.” I waved the fridge door back and forth, rattling an empty catsup container.
    “No, but I might have mentioned your address. And Sammy has my number.”
    “I imagine they’ve already forgotten about us. So I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for Sammy-boy to call.” I gave up and shut the door, unwilling to melt my one stick of butter.
    “Well guess what, he just did. He asked me out for a drink with him next week. He said you could come too, so maybe Jack will show up. Oh, and by the way, Sammy said you’re the first woman who’s ever—he emphasized ever —turned Jack down. So maybe you really did make an impression on him. All this is great timing; I’ve been in a slump lately.”
    For Vicky, a slump was six days without a date. “Don’t worry, I won’t barge in on your big night out. I do think it kind of intrigued them that we didn’t fall all over them.”
    “You could be right. Why don’t you come with me, though? Maybe Jack will be there.”
    “That’s okay.” It would be humiliating to tag along hoping Jack would show, and then sit around like a third wheel while Vicky and Sammy flirted.
    “All right. But let me know if you change your mind.”
    After we hung up, I thought of what Sammy said. It would be amazing if Jack got in touch—but what were the chances of that? I plopped down on the couch and peeled up my tank top to wipe my sweating face. Maybe I should have let him come home with me. But if he’d accompanied me to my lumpy futon, wouldn’t there be a horrible letdown when I never saw him again?
    With an effort, I forced myself to stop thinking about Jack Kipling and focus on the manuscript I’d brought home. This one was by Timothy Collins, a novelist Harvey had signed up. I hoped that if I worked on enough of my boss’s projects, he’d eventually let me acquire some books and I’d get what I dreamed of: being an editor instead of an assistant, and having my own stable of bestselling authors.
     
    Harvey’s mood fluctuated in an inverse relationship to how many calls he got from his wife. Monday morning she left four messages, and he was an ogre. I’d been told she worked at her rich father’s investment firm, but she seemed to spend most of her time monitoring Harvey. After he got back from his two-martini lunch, I gathered my notepad along with