**

The man who had been dancing with the older woman stopped, said something to his dance partner, and then stepped over alongside Anita.

“Oliver, this is Stacy Fischer. Would you be a love? He doesn’t know the tango.”

Oliver smiled, first at Anita, and then at Stacy. He held his hand out, and his smile broadened. “Well, Stacy Fischer, come, let me show you the tango.”

Stacy forgot about all his sadness and stepped back, closer to Anita. He whispered to her. “But he’s a man.”

“I’m sure he knows that. In Rehoboth, we dance. It doesn’t matter, man or woman.”

“Stacy, I promise not to bite,” Oliver said, this time taking Stacy’s hand and gently pulling him to the dance floor. Oliver never lost his smile, nor his gaze into Stacy’s eyes. “The tango can be simple and fun, or elaborate and seductive. Tonight, we’ll do the basics.”

Oliver took Stacy’s left hand and placed it on his waist. He did the same with his right hand on Stacy. Then he took Stacy’s right in his and held it up. Still smiling, he said, “Just follow my lead.” Then he nodded and walked, one, two, three steps. He counted and bobbed as he moved.

Stacy, scared to death, stumbled. 

“Relax, let me guide you. Don’t be nervous.”

Oliver took a step and gently pulled Stacy with him. Stacy, a second behind, stepped on Oliver’s left foot, then quickly jumped away. Oliver took hold and pulled Stacy back. 

“I’ll walk on the bottoms, you can walk on the tops.” Oliver laughed at the old joke. He positioned their hands again and smiled. “Ready?”

Oliver took a step, Stacy followed, this time eyes locked on his feet. Oliver took another step and a third, pulling Stacy with him. 

When Stacy looked up, Oliver was looking into his eyes, not at his feet. It was odd as hell, dancing with a man. He wondered who was watching. He glanced to both sides, Anita and Earl were, but most of the others were dancing, talking, or sipping wine. 

Distracted, he stumbled again. He blushed and looked at Oliver. 

Oliver guided him again, stepped to the side, and turned. Stacy followed. “That’s it. Not so hard?”

“You’re a good leader.”

“A good leader needs a good follower.” Oliver winked. “Now relax. Dancing can help many ailments.”

Stacy tried to relinquish his fear. He looked down again to watch where Oliver’s feet were going and missed another step.

“Look up, at me. Your feet will know where to go.” 

Stacy looked up and frowned as he tripped again.

Oliver took a step and guided Stacy with a slight push and pull at his waist and hand. He nodded as Stacy followed. “There you go. Enjoy the movement.” 

Stacy looked up and smiled, his first. He relaxed a little and for the first time really looked at Oliver. They were the same height, which made looking into his jet-black eyes natural. He searched Oliver’s face, something he hadn’t done to another man other than his son. Oliver had fair skin, a slender nose, high cheekbones, and hair that matched his eyes. But what caught his attention most were Oliver’s eyelashes. They were longer than any he’d seen before and perfectly framed his eyes. For an instant, Stacy wanted to touch them. 

“You’re doing great, Stacy Fischer.”

“Umm.”

“Ready to pick it up?”

“Uh.” 

“Feel the music. Let it take you.” Oliver pulled Stacy’s hand and picked up the pace to better match the beat of the song. He walked Stacy across the floor, keeping his eyes on Stacy’s. His smile never faded. He danced Stacy into the rhythm of the song and stepped him gracefully around the room.

Finally, Stacy relaxed into Oliver’s lead. Oliver’s hand, warm on his waist, expertly nudged him along. His other hand in his, Oliver turned him effortlessly. Soon enough, Stacy felt like he was gliding across the floor, and holding Oliver’s hand, firm and strong, not soft like a woman’s, no longer felt wrong.

“There you are.” Oliver grinned. “The music’s got you. You’re tangoing.”

“I am.” Stacy laughed and looked into Oliver’s shimmering eyes. “I can tango!”

**