Chapter 3December 22: Angie
“A Media Noche” was played at midnight, which seemed to be traditional for this particular milonga. When I glanced over to check on Ramon, he was still watching me. He caught my eye and smiled, though his expression was somewhat sad. Well, he was tired. I wouldn’t stay much later.
The next time I looked over, he was leaning sideways with his shoulder and head resting on the column beside his chair, eyes closed, possibly asleep. “My friend is worn out,” I told my partner. “You’ll excuse me?”
“Of course,” he said. We’d danced together, switching leads, for most of two tandas; to part before the sixth dance was no insult. We shook hands and I wove my way through the still-crowded dance floor to collect my date.
My date, Ramon Torres. Who’d probably been up for
