“Do you know anyone here?” I ask when we’ve found a table and she’s poured me a glass of wine from the bottle of white she bought.

“I know most of these people.” She points at two men who are completely engrossed in their bout of tango together. “That’s Pierre and Yves, they run this place.” Then she nods at a woman who just twirled past us. “And that’s Jeanne, who introduced me to it. I’ve been coming here for years.”

“They seem to take their dancing seriously.” I can’t get over the expression the dancers’ faces are drawn into. All poise and focus.

“That’s because dancing is both fun and a serious business.” Camille stares at me. “Tell me, Zoya, what’s your favorite dance?” She says my name in that way that makes me go all soft on the inside.

“I have some rhythm in me but I’ve never taken any lessons.” Something has changed in Camille’s eyes. Something that makes me want to press my body against hers on that dance floor.

“We’re good to go then. After the tango, there’s usually a salsa. Just trust me and follow my lead.”

I burst out into a chuckle. “Do you really expect me to just get up and dance a salsa with you?”

She nods. “That’s how you’ll learn. The music, the atmosphere… you won’t be able to stop once you begin. I’m willing to wager on that right here, right now.” She holds out her hand, palm up.

“We’ll see.” I drink my wine, needing all the liquid courage I can get.

“Just trust me, Zoya.” When she looks into my eyes like that, and says my name in such a sultry way, I have no choice but to trust her. I look at her, and at the writhing bodies behind her, and for a minute, believe I have landed in a different dimension.

The music changes and Camille gets up, holds out her hand to me. “Are you ready to dance with me?” she asks.

“Not really,” I say, but take her hand anyway.

As we walk the few steps to the dance floor, the two men nod at her, as do most of the other people. No one speaks. This is serious business then.

Camille pulls me close, our bellies touching. “Just follow my lead. Start with your right foot back. Listen to the music. No one’s judging you.”

I try to remember what a salsa looks like again, but I don’t have to use my memory, all I have to do is glance around. Next to us, Pierre and Yves are going at it already, looking as if dancing salsa together is all they do in life.