Before I can respond, he stands and announces, “Let’s dance!”

There is clapping at his proclamation as everyone stands and makes their way to the ballroom. Ambrose offers his hand and I take it.

“I’ll have the first,” he says and I don’t argue.

We are the first on the floor, taking up the waltz as others file in.

“Do you ever get used to people watching you?” I ask him. I can feel his hand at my waist, burning through ...