She didn’t say anything, but her hand gripped tighter at his waist.
They danced silently around the entry, their feet shuffling along the checkerboard marble as the record scratched and echoed and skipped. The moon rose through the arched window over the stairwell and the ancient house breathed with the tide.
Minutes of peaceful silence were broken when Ben groaned, “Why is it so hot?”
“Heat wave,” Tenzin said. “They say it’s the worst in sixty years.”
“That’s just hideous and wrong.”
“And yet, you’re still forcing me to dance.”
“You like it.”
“I don’t—”
Ben slapped a hand over her mouth so she couldn’t argue. “Stop. Just dance. It’s Louis. We always dance to Louis. That’s the new rule.” She bit his hand and he let go. “Ouch.”
“It’s so cute when you try to boss me around. Is this an absolute rule? What if a Louis Armstrong song happens to come on at an inopportune moment? If we’re fighting for our lives, do we have to stop and dance?”
“We can be flexible in life-threatening situations.”
The record switched to “Blueberry Hill,” and they kept dancing.
“So,” he said. “I did a lot of thinking in Tuscany.”
“You brood.”
“I was not…” He stopped talking so he didn’t start yelling. Take a deep breath. “Thinking is not brooding. I was thinking.”
“Fine. Whatever you say.”
“And I figured out what you can call me when you introduce me.”
Tenzin looked up, her eyes laughing. “Oh yes? Can I stick with life coach? That’s my favorite so far. I was thinking about some other ones though—”
“No.” Ben spun her round and round until she was laughing aloud. “I’m not going to be known as your life coach or your yoga instructor or your publicist.”
“So what then?”
Tenzin took a wrong step and tried to take the lead, but Ben shook her arm until she stopped trying to push him around. “No. Don’t do that, you’ll just mess up the dance. Let me lead. I’m a better dancer.”
“Fine.” She relaxed and Ben stepped forward, dipping her until her hair brushed the ground.
He pulled her up. “Partner.”
Tenzin blinked. “What?”
“You and I,” he said, “are going to move to New York.”
“Hmmm.” It was a suspicious hmmm.
“We’re going to find shiny, pretty things,” Ben continued.
“I like that.”
“And we’re going to return them to the people paying us to find them.”
“I don’t like that so much.”
“For a very generous fee.”
Tenzin thought. She thought until the needle was bumping against the edge of the record, but Ben didn’t stop dancing.
Finally, she asked, “Can we—?”
“No, we cannot make forgeries and keep the originals for ourselves.”
She pouted. “You’re no fun.”
“I just need to know.” Ben spun her out and tugged her back, the quiet lapping of the water in the canal the only accompaniment to their dance. “Are you in or out, Tenzin?”
Tenzin’s eyes narrowed and the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile.
“In.”
❂
TENZIN let Ben turn the record over and dance with her for another half an hour.
She was glad she let him figure it out on his own. It was much more satisfying to know he’d come to the same conclusion she had years ago. It was obvious after their trip to China that he’d be the perfect partner to treasure hunt with her. It had taken him a little while to come around, but he couldn’t help being slow. He was human.
For now.
The End