Page 123 of Nine-Tenths

"A pleasure to meet you, Colin Levesque." She pumps my arm once, firm and self-assured. "I'm Laura Secord."

Chapter Thirty-Three

"Sorry?" I ask, freezing. "Did you say Laura Secord?" I let her hand go, feeling like a complete tit, and wipe my now-sweating palms on my thighs as discreetly as possible. Which is to say, not at all discreetly. "As in, the chocolate?"

She tilts her head impishly. "Mr. O'Connor named his company in my honor, yes."

"I hope they pay you your imaging license fees in chocolate, at least," I say, which is a stupid thing to say. My whole brain has been thrown for a loop and all that's coming out is my Mum's small-talk platitudes. I try to reboot, but my mouth keeps running. "I, uh, just tried it for the first time, you know. S'good."

Dav winces. He usually finds my mumble-mouth charming, but we're supposed to be trying to make an impression. A good one.

I don't even want to look at Simcoe's face.

"Oh?" Laura-war-hero-of-the-nation-Secord says. "Why just now?"

"Um, I'm allergic to chocolate. Or, at least, I was," I start, and then bite my tongue. Shit. I shouldn’t be talking about the benefits of dragon-roasted coffee.

Instead of looking surprised, Laura nods knowingly. "Ah, The Gift."

That…

That's not what I expected her to say.

Dav's eyes go wide. The bastard's realized something, and he can't share because Simcoe is still watching us like a rapt bird of prey.

Dav swallows hard, cornered. "I was working up to telling him."

"Tell me what?" I ask, annoyed at Dav for putting me in this position. He looks as thrown as I feel, though, so at least we're idiots together.

Yup. We’re totally charming everyone. Absolutely according to plan. Uh-huh.

"Naughty naughty, Alva," Laura tuts at him. "You’re usually so eloquent. I’ve no fear that you’ll frighten him off."

"You flatter me, Laura," Dav says. They cup one another's clothed elbows, kindly and comforting. With Laura's head tilted back like that so she can look up at him, it's sort of cute. "But then, you always have."

"Nonsense," Laura laughs, beaming up at him. "I only ever say what you are too humble to put words to, dear."

A frisson of jealousy spikes, but quickly evaporates. Dav's looking at Laura the same way he looks at the kids—there'saffection here, but it's nothing I need to worry about. The band strikes a flourish, and Dav and Laura startle apart. Dav immediately reaches for me, crooking his arm. I've read enough historical romances to get swoony as I take it, and let him lead me further inside.

The ballroom is 1930s jade-and-gold art deco, more modern than I expected. A few dozen couples are lingering by the high-top tables sprinkled with candy bowls, while a handful more square up on the dance floor.

"How's your cotillion?" Laura asks me, falling into step with us.

"Non-existent," I admit.

"Tsk tsk, Alva," Laura teases Dav again, and he ducks his head, likeaw shucks.

"Show me how it's done, babe." I say. A little audacity never hurt anyone, so I grab Laura's hand and press it against Dav's shoulder. "Go on, wow me."

"Thank you, Mr. Levesque," Laura says, startled but happy. She dons a pair of gloves from her reticule. "How kind."

"It's just Colin," I tell her. "Now shoo."

Dav nudges the side of my head affectionately with his nose, and then promenades Laura onto the floor.

"Alva has been neglecting your education," Simcoe says from behind me, and I jerk around, becausefuckthat guy is good at sneaking. Somebody oughta put a goat bell on him.

"Uh." I wish I had pockets. I don’t know what to do with my hands. "We haven't been going to ballroom classes, if that's what you're getting at."