Foster turned to Ezren, leaning close to her ear. “Unfortunately, the dance floor is the only place to get some space. So if you’d do me the honor.” He held out a hand and Ezren took it, nervous butterflies colliding in her stomach. With one hand on her waist, he took her through the steps of the simplest dance she’d learned in their PR classes while the orchestra swelled into a weave of strings and air.
