She looks down at her cosmopolitan, takes the smallest of sips, and then steps back onto the crowded space in front of the bar where some folks are dancing. A young man comes up to her, they start to move together, her rhythm light and natural. His rhythm is rougher but meeting hers. She is not interested in this man, and will tell him so directly after the dance. She is aware of two men watching her from the shadows, one is her husband. She is not interested in him tonight either, but plays to him during the dance, in order to pacify him and to make sure the man she is interested in notices her. But she not need to worry that he would notice her. He noticed her right away. It was the drink that gave her away. What was she doing in Beijing again? Did she know he was here? How could she, he thought. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable and suggested to his date that they leave, blow this place for some place a bit more quiet. His date said sure, but she wanted to finish her ginger ale first. He could not stand it, the pressure building inside, as he watched her dance with that young man. While the young man was quite striking he was of no concern to him, his main concern was his emotions. He was losing control of them. His heart was pounding. He would risk it all for this woman. When he saw her husband sipping on a Hogarden, he wondered for a second what he though of her dancing with another man, but it was only a fleeting concern. His main concern was his own, now out of control emotions. The song ended, she whispered "thanks, but I need to dance with my husband now" to the young stud and he was dispatched. He would be fine. She spun and smiled in the direction of the man she was really interested in, then gave her husband a flirtatious glance and whispered "dance with me" while pulling him forward. It was all to impress him. She was spinning. He husband came onto the floor and danced with her. The husband was happy. She thought he danced like a fish. For that matter her husband's hands on her had lately felt like a dead fish. She thought of the other man and smiled and moved in her light and passionate way. The man who watched her was overcome with anxiety, a nervousness that wouldn't let go. He stood up, told his date he would be right back, and stepped outside, hoping the cold air would settle his nerves. Mainly, it just felt cold. Zero is zero. He stepped back inside just as the women was walking past with her husband. He visibly gasped. He froze unable to move or acknowledge her. But it appeared she didn't notice him and she kept going, out the door. He stood there, shaking, wishing he had a cigarette. After a minute or two, he pulled himself together and went inside. His date had finished her ginger ale and they left for that quiet place. After making love to her husband --she banged him hard while thinking of the other man-- she rolled over and smiled. Of course she saw the man on her way out, and from the look on his face she knew she still had it. Still had him. And he would be hers once again.

Dance