"He's rude." Elsa glowers at his broad back.
"He's a Sovrano."
"There seem to be more of them than the Baldwins," she retorts.
"What?" I glance at her. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing, just a joke. It's a film reference joke. One of my classmates from when I went to school—Summer West, was her name—she was so into movies that all her conversations were peppered with references to films. Some of it rubbed off on me."
"Do you miss England?"
"Not the weather. I miss London though." Her gaze grows pensive. "It's a big city. It afforded me more anonymity than Palermo."
"You moved here to be close to your daughter, didn't you?"
"It was the only way I could get to see her." Her lips firm.
"Sorry, didn't mean to upset you."
"No, it's fine." She shoots me a smile that's so bright that I wince. "Let's have some fun, shall we?"
She hooks her arm through mine and we follow Seb into the nightclub.
A wave of noise hits me as we walk down the short flight of steps and into the large room. The scent of sweat, perfumes and alcohol all mesh into a strange bitter-sweet scent that overpowers me. The room has high ceilings and is cavernous enough for the music to echo back and be magnified. On both sides of the room, a bar stretches from end to end, and in between, is the dance floor. Or, at least, I assume it's a dance floor because I can't see an inch of it. The entire space is crammed with men and women dancing in what seems to be one big amorphous mass of humanity.
"Umm, I am not sure I want to be here," I begin, but Elsa grabs my arm and pulls me along with her. "Elsa, please," I begin to protest but she turns on me.
"Do you want to stay home moping for your Sovrano?"
I deflate a little. "N-no," I admit.
"This was your idea. Clearly, you want to prove a point to yourself. You've come this far; don’t back out now. Let's loosen up a little and have some fun, okay?"
I let her drag me into the sweltering hot cavern.
Seb seems to have disappeared somewhere, thank god. At least, I don’t have to deal with him and Elsa getting pissy with each other.
The strobe lights dance over us as she elbows her way through the crowd. She keeps a firm grip on me, until we reach the very center of the dance floor. Bodies push in on us from all sides. Sweat beads my brow and trickles down my temple. My dress clings to my back. Elsa grips my arms and sways in tandem to the music, which is so loud that it pounds through my veins. The beat ricochets about my head. Elsa swings her hips, dirty-dancing me as she squats down, then pushes out her hips and straightens. I notice the men behind her eyeing her up and down as she continues to dance, apparently, unaware of their attention.
"Elsa," I scream to make myself be heard above the music. "Elsa!"
She glances at me, "Come on, babe, you need to loosen up a little."
She throws her arms about me and grinds her hips into mine.
"What are you doing?" I laugh, as she pulls back, then twirls me around and back in. Then she turns her back on me, and once more, does a bump and a grind.
"Elsa, I need to get off the dance floor." I grip her shoulder.
She turns to me, "Aww, and I was just beginning to have fun."
"Well, I am not." I scowl.
"Hmm, I know just what you need."
She grabs my hand, and once more, pushes through the crowd, hauling me with her. We burst out of the throng and cool air instantly envelops me. I yank my hand from her grasp and push the hair off my neck.
"Phew, it’s hot in there."