In The Cut by Arlene Brathwaite

Olivia.”
    Saint’s mouth dropped open. “Olivia doesn’t strike me to be the type to be backing anything up, and even if she was, she wouldn’t be backing it up on me. I don’t dance.”
    “C’mon, Saint, you’re always complaining about how boring your new life is. Now, you have the chance to do something different.”
    “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
     
    The club scene was a paranoid man’s worst nightmare. The strobe lights, the pounding music, people jerking and popping their bodies to the music. Too many dark spots for people who didn’t want to be seen. Dark spots that Saint himself occupied too many times in his previous life. He thought about backing out at the last minute, but when Grace and Olivia showed up at the suite, Olivia took his breath away. She was wearing a simple, sleeveless, pleated dress by Tommy Hilfiger, but that’s what made her look so beautiful. It was the first time he saw Olivia the woman, who just wanted to have fun and not Olivia the businesswoman. Grace was wearing a white and lavender tennis skirt with a white Polo shirt. Saint could hear Glenn’s heart pounding. Saint was dressed casual in a pair of Akademik jeans, a white Phat Farm fitted T-shirt, and a pair of Rockport’s.
    As they walked deeper into the Light nightclub, located inside the Bellagio hotel, Saint’s eyes darted from side to side behind his lightly-tinted Paul Smith’s. DJ Kris Cut was the man behind the sounds that had the ballers and the beautiful women shaking it up on the dance floor. They found room at the bar and ordered drinks.
    “It’s got to be at least eighty-five degrees in here,” Olivia said, taking a sip on her drink.
    “Perfect for dancing,” Grace said, downing her drink. “Hurry up and drink so we can hit the dance floor, Glenn.”
    Glenn finished his drink in three gulps and let Grace lead him to the dance floor.
    “I’m going to tell you, now,” Saint said, finishing his drink and calling for another, “It’s going to take more than one drink to get me on the dance floor.”
    “I haven’t danced in… I don’t know how long. Not in public, anyway.” Olivia could sense Saint’s uncomfortability. “You okay?”
    “I don’t get out much.”
    “C’mon.” Olivia grabbed him by the hand. “I don’t dance.”
    “What? C’mon everybody knows how to dance.”
    “I didn’t say I don’t know how to dance. I said I don’t dance.”
    Olivia took his glasses off, folded them, and hung them on the front of her dress. “Will you please dance with me?”
    Saint looked into her puppy eyes. He then looked to the dance floor and saw Glenn making a fool of himself. His face softened, Olivia smiled. She led him to the dance floor.
    Steam by Nicole from the Pussy Cat Dolls pumped out the speakers. Olivia’s hips started swaying to the beat as they made their way to the dance floor. Saint was mesmerized. Olivia looked over her shoulder at him and caught him staring at her butt, and smiled. Saint’s face turned red.
    Grace threw her hands in the air and waved to Olivia and Saint. Olivia waved back. She turned to face Saint and locked eyes with him as she let her body feel the music. Saint broke out with the two-step.
    Thirty steps, later, Olivia pulled Saint’s ear to her lips. “Is that all you know how to do?”
    “Oh, you want me to come out the stash on you? Okay.” Saint continued the two-step and then added a dip to it. Olivia started laughing. Saint held his finger up for her to watch his next dance move. His two-step transitioned into a two-step with a shake, then a two-step with a stutter step. They both busted out laughing.
    “You so stupid, Clayton.”
    “Don’t be hating on my two-step.” Saint looked over at Glenn and he shook his head. Glenn looked like he was doing a combination of the running man and the cabbage patch.
    Checking me by Bobby Valentino blended into the mix. Saint felt Olivia dance closer to him. He tried matching his rhythm with hers. She