Beyond the Frame Chapter 10

Victoria tugged on an emerald dress and zipped it with finality. Not sparing her figure a look in the mirror, she turned to the mess on her bed. All the dresses she owned were scattered on her bed. To think she had ended up with the dress she picked first. Her phone buzzed, and she jumped.

Glancing at the clock, Victoria sighed when she saw the time.

It was only ten minutes to six.

Eric had promised to show up at six thirty. Her phone buzzed again, and she pushed dresses aside to find it on the bed. She smiled when she saw her older brother’s name. Answering the call, she reached for a brush from her vanity table.

“What’s up?”

“Open the door,” Clifford said.

“What?”

“I’m standing outside your door.”

Hurrying out of her bedroom, Victoria went to open the front door. Clifford stood leaning on the balcony railing, relaxed in faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt. He held up her car keys.

“I’m sure you’ve been dying for these,” he said with a wide smile.

Victoria returned the smile and held out her hand for the keys. “Thanks, Cliff, you’re a lifesaver.”

Clifford’s fingers closed over the keys, his gaze thoughtful as he took in her dress.

“Going out?”

Victoria’s smile faltered.

“Uh… yeah,” she said with a wince.

She was not ready to tell Clifford about Eric, yet. “Just dinner, you know, out on the town.”

“Olive’s working tonight,” Clifford said, his gaze speculative. “Is Grace here? I’ve missed her.”

Victoria scowled. “I go out with other people too, you know.”

Clifford pushed off the railing and moved to open her apartment door. He removed his leather sandals as he entered her living room.

“I’m thirsty, Vicky,” Clifford said as he settled on her comfortable pale green couch. He reached for the remote on the coffee table and turned on the television. “Make it cold juice, little sis. It’s too hot out there.”

Victoria groaned, just what she needed, an overprotective brother while she got ready for a date. She stormed into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She was quite aware of what Clifford was doing. He scared away most of her potential boyfriends when they were growing up. She almost overfilled the glass, imagining how he would treat Eric.

Returning the carton of orange juice to the fridge, she took the glass to her brother, wondering what would get him out of her apartment faster.

Clifford took the glass with a small, knowing smile. “How’s Ronald?”

“We broke up,” she said, sitting on the armchair across from him. She placed her phone on the coffee table and continued brushing her hair. “Aren’t you working tonight?”

“Nope,” Clifford answered, stretching his legs out on the couch. “I have two days off. I wanted to get your car fixed, and I need to pick up supplies for Dad.”

“Supplies?” she asked with a frown.

“Yeah, he’s redoing the perimeter fence. He asked me to help him get sand.”

“That sounds involved,” Victoria said, getting up to clip her hair.

A knock came on the door, and her gaze flew to Clifford. He kept his gaze on the television. Rolling her eyes because it was obvious he was going to be stubborn; she went to open the door.

“Hey,” Eric said with a wide smile.

Before she could speak, Clifford grabbed the door from her and tugged it open.

Eric’s eyes widened, and Victoria found herself stepping outside to take Eric’s hand.

“This is my big brother, Clifford,” she said. “He brought my car for me.”

Eric stepped back from her, letting go of her hand.

She scowled.

“Vicky, finish getting dressed,” Clifford said, placing strong hands on her shoulders and pushing her back into the house.

Afraid of what he might say or do to Eric, Victoria ran to her bedroom. She grabbed the hair clip she had set on the vanity table. Moving quickly, she finished her hair and grabbed her purse.

Visions of Clifford beating on his chest as if he was King Kong in the jungle had her jamming her feet into green sandals. She got her phone from the coffee table and hurried out of the house.

Clifford and Eric were downstairs in the parking lot.

Locking her house, Victoria hurried down the stairs, only to find Clifford and Eric laughing by Eric’s car. She stopped in surprise.

“What are you doing?” Clifford asked, pushing off the car. He opened the back passenger door of Eric’s car. “You’re getting late for your date, Vicky.”

Victoria frowned when Eric opened the front passenger door for her. She slid into the car, confused. Eric and Clifford chatted about football as they drove out of the parking lot. When they hit Argwings Kodhek Road, Eric stopped the car, and Clifford got out.

“Vicky,” Clifford said. “See you on Sunday at the parents’?”

“Sure,” Victoria said, as her brother closed the door and hurried off to the bus stop.

Victoria turned to find Eric grinning.

“What did you say to him?” Victoria asked.

Eric shrugged. “I have younger sisters, too. That’s all I’ll say.”

“Come on,” Victoria scoffed. “Tell me.”

“Nope,” Eric said as he joined traffic heading toward town. “You look beautiful, Victoria. Makes me think I should take you out dancing.”

“I don’t think you can dance.”

“Now you’re challenging me.”

Victoria laughed and settled back in her seat. “Fine, it’s a challenge.”

“What do I win if I prove you wrong?”

She glanced at him. “I’ll buy dinner.”

Eric laughed this time. He did dance… to salsa.

They pulled into a nice restaurant tucked off a busy street, the kind where the windows glowed warm and a hand-painted sign promised live music. Inside, the air held spice and something sweet. A trio of tuned instruments on a low stage. Couples drifted toward a cleared floor, shoes tapping in anticipation.

Eric pulled out her chair, and Victoria smoothed her emerald dress under her as she sat. He looked at her like he had when he adjusted the camera focus, intent, slightly amused, interested in every flicker of expression.

“Still confident?” she asked, picking up the menu.

“More than ever.” He closed his own menu without reading it. “Do you like spicy food?”

“I do,” she said, and closed the menu too. “Do you come here often?”

“Yeah.” Eric smiled. “I took the photos for their menu.”

“Then, surprise me,” Victoria said.

Eric ordered their food with ease and got cold drinks as they waited. Plates arrived quickly: grilled chicken with lime, rice dotted with herbs. Conversation rolled easily. He told a story about photographing a fashion show where a model tripped, then recovered like she had meant to fall all along. She admitted she once gave a sales pitch barefoot after her heel broke as she got off an elevator. He laughed, warm and low, and she tried not to stare at him.

When the band slid into the first song, a ripple of applause went through the room. Eric raised his brows. “Ready to lose this bet?”

“I’m ready to be entertained,” she said, finishing her sip of juice. “Let’s go, Mr. ‘I Have Moves.’”

He stood and offered his hand. She let him lead her to the edge of the floor. Close up, the music pulsed steady, a heartbeat that got under her skin.

“Left, right, left,” he said quietly, eyes on hers. “I’ll do the counting. You follow.”

“I hate following.”

“You can lead next song.”

She rolled her eyes, then tried. Left, right, left. His palm settled at her waist, respectful heat through thin fabric. He moved with a certainty that surprised her, not flashy, just grounded. She missed a step and landed toe-to-toe with him. He steadied her, laughter spilling out of both of them.

“Sorry,” she said, breathless, trying again.

“You’re fine. Look at me, not your feet.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?”

“Because you smile like you know all my secrets.”

He grinned wider. “Maybe I do.”

They found something like a rhythm. He guided her with gentle pressure, and she let herself trust the cue. The band hit a faster tempo, the singer’s voice sliding around the melody like silk. Her hips loosened. Her green sandals held up. He spun her once, slowly, and she landed against his chest, hands braced on his shoulders. For a second, the room narrowed to the clean line of his jaw and the spark in his eyes.

“You’re not terrible,” she said with a wide grin.

“That’s high praise.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

They danced through two songs, then three. When the band paused, the room buzzed. Victoria breathed hard with exhilaration, laughing at the carefree joy. Eric guided her back to their table, both of them still laughing with excitement.

“Water,” he said, signaling the waiter. “Or do you want something else?”

“Water is perfect.” She fanned herself with a napkin. “I haven’t danced like that in a long time. It was amazing.”

He tipped his glass toward her. “Then it’s a deal. You’ll come out dancing with me often.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Victoria said, shaking her head with a smile.

“Okay. We can talk about it after dessert.”

They split a slice of cheesecake that tasted like white chocolate. He slid the last bite toward her fork without comment. She tried not to read into it and failed a lot.

“Tell me something,” he said, resting his forearms on the table. “What song would you put on repeat right now if you could?”

She thought of morning drives and old favorites. “Something that makes the whole city feel like it belongs to me. Upbeat, no slow ballads.”

“Good,” he said softly. “I like that.”

The band picked up again, and he stood with a crooked smile. “Round two?”

“You’re relentless.”

“Only with things that matter.”

She let him pull her up. This time, the steps came easier. He spun her with more confidence; she let her hand trail back to his without thinking. On a turn, she caught her reflection in the window: flushed, bright-eyed, very unlike the woman who had stared down a closet full of dresses and second-guessed everything.

He dipped his head, voice low enough for her alone. “You’re having fun.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Unfortunately?”

“It’ll ruin my recent reputation for being sensible.”

“Victoria,” he said, laughter in the single word.

They danced until her legs begged for mercy. When they finally sat, she pressed her hand to her chest and tried to catch her breath.

“Okay,” she said. “You win. I will buy dinner.”

He lifted a hand, catching the waitstaff’s eye. “I’ve got it.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”

He took the check away when it arrived and winked at her. “Next time, then.”

“You’re assuming there’s a next time.”

“I am,” Eric said with a small smile.

She should have argued. She didn’t. Outside, the night had cooled. The city hummed, lights tossing soft halos on the sidewalk. He walked her to the Jeep, his hand hovering at her back as if he couldn’t quite help himself.

He opened the passenger door for her, and she paused and met his gaze for a moment.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Fine. More than all right.” She smiled, thinking this was the first time she’d truly had a date. It felt great to be so free around someone. He returned her smile, and she sighed. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“It’s too late.” He handed her in, then circled to the driver’s side.

On the drive back, they let the radio fill the quiet. She watched the city blur by and tried to ignore the easy warmth in her chest. When he parked outside her building, he cut the engine and turned toward her.

“Thanks for dancing with me,” he said.

“Thanks for not stepping on my toes,” she said.

He leaned in, slow enough to give her time to change her mind. She didn’t. The kiss was unrushed, warm, a promise tucked inside a simple good night.

“Sleep well,” he murmured.

“You too,” she said, surprised by the reluctance curling through her when she reached for the door. She exited his car and hurried to the gate, turning once when he honked, and she waved at him before she entered her compound, her heart racing.

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