My prompt was to write a story that begins with the title of the book you’ve most recently read and ends with the name of your favorite character that you’ve written.

The Dance began the moment she entered the bar. She caught my attention immediately; in fact, she caught most people’s attention. Everyone turned toward the creaking door as it allowed the afternoon daylight inside. In the doorway her shapely silhouette appeared, blocking the light until the door slammed closed behind her. The jukebox chose that moment to end its song, causing the slam to resonate. The first thing I noticed as she lowered her head, was her face turning crimson. The second thing I noticed were her eyes scanning the small crowd and stopping when she saw me. She lingered on me just a little too long before resuming her scan. Surprised and slightly amused, I took a large swallow of my beer and leaned back against the bar, studying her thoughtfully. I was the only other woman in the place. Others returned to their drinks, and some continued to stare but she was oblivious to their attentions. Everyone’s but mine, it would seem.

She did not belong in this place, and  it was clear she knew. She looked fearful, ill-at-ease. She walked to the bar, avoiding contact with anyone. As she approached, she pulled her arms in tight to her body so as not to touch. As it happened, she had decided to stand right next to me. I caught her eye and once again, her gaze lingered just a few seconds beyond polite. As she looked away I caught the hint of a smile in her eyes. She was dressed impeccably in a navy blue suit and heels, and I felt inferior in my torn jeans and tight t-shirt. She tried to get the bartender’s attention by looking at him and raising her hand in the air. Ignoring her, he continued talking to his buddy.

“He’s a jerk.” I told her, and called loudly to him. “Help a lady out here!”

He sidled up, looked at her questioningly. When she asked to use the phone because her car wouldn’t start and her phone was dead, he pointed with his chin and said “payphone’s over there” turning his back on her and walking away to finish his conversation. With a sigh, she turned toward the phones, digging in her purse for change. I intercepted her before she made it to the phone.

“So your car won’t start?”

I startled her and she gasped as I caught her eye again and flashed my best disarming smile. Realizing it was me, she visibly relaxed.

“That’s right. My Jag is dead; won’t even turn over.”

“Well, it just so happens I know a little about engines.”

She studied me closely and I wondered what was going through her mind; wondered if it was anything close to my not so slightly impure thoughts. With a knowing smile, she turned, beckoning me to follow.

“What’s your name?” she asked over her shoulder. Knowing this woman was too good for the likes of me, and following her beautiful backside anyway, I answered.

“It’s Kerry.”