“It would be a shame to let that great music go to waste.”

Bea froze at the sound of the familiar voice.

“Care to dance?”

Slowly she turned to face the only person whose voice could make her quiver inside. In the muted shadows of this deserted area of the balcony she could barely discern the handsome features of the man’s coca brown face, but she knew every line and plane. She took her time as she raised her eyes to the wide shoulders that filled his tuxedo perfectly, up pass the slightly dimpled chin to the still dazzling smile.

Frank Shaffer still possessed all of the animal magnetism that Bea remembered. Oh, there were changes. Slight age lines teased the corners of his eyes. His wavy hair was generously sprinkled with gray, as was his mustache. He wasn’t quite as muscular as he had been in high school but it was obvious by his long, lean physique that he worked out to keep his body in the best possible shape. She noticed that his mouth still titled up at the corners when he smiled which he did now as she stood flustered by his sudden appearance.

Bea exhaled. She opened her mouth to answer this question but nothing came out. She was glad because to shout out “Damn, you look good!” would have left her completely mortified.

Frank chuckled. “I’ll take it that the answer to my question is yes.” With that he took her hand and in one smooth movement pulled her gently into his arms.

They swayed rhythmically to the band’s melodious tones. The section of the balcony where they stood blocked the view of the ballroom’s famous ceiling. Gracefully, Frank led them to a more open area where they danced beneath the crescent moon and glittering stars. Bea glanced up at the domed ceiling and was transported back to a time when she was a young girl dancing with the handsomest boy in school. She stopped herself from laying her head on Frank’s shoulder, reminding herself that he had not only been the love of her life but he was the man who had practically left her at the alter. This is also the man who was married to Charlie Mae Crenshaw! The last thought sobered her like a slap in the face.

As the last notes of the brass section faded she firmly extracted herself from Frank’s embrace and took a step backward. His eyes scorched her from her head to her feet.

“How are you, Bea? You look beautiful. You have no idea how great it is to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Frank.” She was formal. “Thank you for the compliment. You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

An awkward silence followed but his smile continued to warm her. Bea could feel her face become flush. She dropped her eyes, no longer able to hold his gaze. Frank spoke.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare but I can’t get over how little you’ve changed. The same eyes.” He brushed a fingertip down her cheek. “The same soft, lovely skin.”

To cover her discomfort, Bea changed the subject. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re doing fine. Your realty company is thriving. The talk here is that you and Charlie Mae are very happy and doing well.”

“Really?” He looked surprised. “That’s interesting, but let’s not talk about me. I heard about your husband’s death years ago. I wanted to call with my condolences, then thought it best that I didn’t.” He paused, knowing that she understood the reason why, and she did. He continued. “I trust that your children are doing well.”

“Bryant is doing quite well. He’s a police officer here in Indianapolis.” Bea hesitated, then added, “My son, James Jr., died about three years ago.”

“Your son? Dead? I had no idea! I’m sorry. Charmaine and I never had children so I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose one.”

Frank took both her hands in his. His look of sympathy was so sincere that Bea had to resist bursting into tears.

“Thank you Frank.” Struggling to maintain control of her emotions she cleared her throat and once again changed the subject. “You know, for a second there I had no idea who the woman named Charmaine was. I mean Charlie Mae.”

“Okay, Bea, don’t start.” Frank gave her a warning look.

She feigned innocence. “What? I’m trying to be nice and dispel what they say about a woman scorned.”

“Scorned?” Frank was incredulous. “You’re saying that’s what happened?” He shook his head. “ I know about women scorned, but ones with selective memories are a different matter.”

Bea was taken aback. Selective memory! She ought to knock his lights out.