Page 28 of The False Flat

“Good idea.” William flopped into the chair and drank from a glass I wasn’t sure was his.

“I didn’t see you out there,” Grant said to Chad. If he’d been drinking, too, I couldn’t tell.

Chad’s eyebrows went up on his forehead. “Oh, I can shuffle. Pen didn’t want to get out there.”

“I guess we’ll never know for sure.” Grant winked.

What was he doing? Didn’t he know he was provoking Chad? He read people too well not to know.

Chad threw back the rest of his drink and stood up a little too fast, nearly knocking his chair over. “That sounds like a challenge. You wanna see me dance, Mustache?”

Yeah, he’d had too much to drink. I started pulling at Chad’s arm, looking around with a smile on my face like He’s kidding, totally kidding. Nothing to see here.

The half smile on Grant’s face along with his sly shrug pushed Chad over the edge.

“Come on then.” Chad nodded over and over again. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

I was clawing at his arm now; any second, I was going to draw blood. “Oh, I don’t think that’s—”

“No.” Chad cut me off, then shrugged out of my grip. “Mustache thinks he can shuffle better than I can.”

No. No. No. No. No. NO. This wasn’t happening. Where was Lawyer Chad, the one who made good decisions based on well-thought-out arguments and evidence? Good Chad was floating in a hot tub of whiskey, actively being drowned by drunk, jealous Macho Chad, who was suggesting some sort of dance-off.

Who does that? Even drunk, who does that?

William, Mere, Devon, Conner, and Keyondra pounded on the table, shaking the water glasses, and chanting, “Chal-lenge! Chal-lenge!”

Grant rolled up the sleeves of his white oxford, then twirled the edge of his mustache. He was enjoying this, the bastard. They were all enjoying this. They were all nuts. What was in the alcohol here?

My eyes flew to Deanna, pleading with her to do something. Grant was her brother, after all.

“If they want to look like fools, who are we to stop them?” she asked.

I wanted to stop them. I’d wanted a distraction tonight, but this wasn’t the one.

Grant bent low as he passed my chair. “I hope you don’t mind me taking your fancy boyfriend down a peg.” Then he winked at me, grabbed Conner’s bowler hat off his head, and turned away before I could beg him to stop.

Elaine covered her eyes. “I can’t look.” But she was smiling.

“If you’re worried about Grant, don’t be,” Keyondra said. “He got this.”

I scooted a little lower in my chair, a lot lower. A new song came on, and Conner popped up. “I’ll judge!” he said and then ran out to join Chad and Grant.

The crowd parted for the three men. A slow thumping beat with a thin line of brass accompaniment overtook the room as Grant stood to the side and threw his hand out toward Chad, giving him the honors of going first.

Chad’s chest expanded; his grin took on a devilish slant. And then he started moving, a frantic heel-to-toe tapping, arms swinging like a machine fueled by too much liquor and pride. But he was doing it, and he didn’t look too bad doing it. His turn ended with a stationary running man followed by a scissor kick. Sweaty and breathing heavily, he motioned to Grant, who was already clapping and nodding in appreciation.

Grant tilted his hat on his head and moved slowly, snapping in time with the music. His arms shot out, then his feet swept him to the side with a long hum of the trumpet, like he’d heard the song before and knew exactly when to move to make each note work to his advantage. His arm moved up and down, a casual snap in the air, as his body rocked from side to side, and then he spun and grabbed his hat and let it roll down his arm until it reached his elbow, when he jerked, flicking the hat into the air and back onto his head.

Elaine squealed with delight.

Chad’s moves had been capable, something else I didn’t know about him. But Grant’s moves were effortless. He was lost in the rhythm, his body one with the song.

Just as he appeared to be slowing down, Conner jumped beside Grant, and the two men moved in sync. When Grant’s leg kicked left, so did Conner’s and vice versa.

“Oh, I gotta get in on this.” Keyondra vacated her chair and ran to the dance floor. And then it was the three of them, moving together in a triangular formation, with Conner at the apex, arms and legs moving in tandem like well-practiced, synchronous pendulums.

“They’re good,” William said.