Dutch said with relish.
Like a barnacle on the hull of a fancy yacht.
We happen to have been dancing.
Ha! That's what you call it. We got another name for it. Where I come from, we call it
Dutch!
Nathaniel cut off the undoubtedly crude description.
There.
Mortified, Coco smoothed down her dress.
You've made a scene.
You were the one making a scene, with that smooth-skinned rich boy. Flaunting yourself.
F-f-flaunting.
Enraged, she drew herself up to her full, and considerable, height.
I
have never flaunted in my life. You, sir, are despicable.
I'll show you despicable, lady.
Cut it out.
Prepared for fists to fly, Nathaniel stepped between them.
Dutch, what
the hell's wrong with you? Are you drunk?
A nip or two of rum never rattled my brain.
He glared over Nathaniel's shoulder at
Coco.
It's her that's acting snockered. Out of my way, boy, I've got a thing or two left to say.
You've finished,
Nathaniel corrected.
Out of his way.
All eyes turned to Coco. She was flushed, bright-eyed, and regal as a duchess.
I prefer to handle this matter myself.
Megan tugged gently on her arm.
Coco, don't you think you should go inside?
I do not.
She caught herself and added a friendly pat.
Now, dear, you and Nate
run along. Mr. Van Horne and I prefer to handle this privately.
But
Nathaniel,
Coco said, interrupting her,
take Megan inside now.
Yes, ma'am.
Are you sure we should leave them alone?
Nathaniel continued to steer Megan to the terrace . doors.
You want to get in the
middle of that?
Megan glanced back over her shoulder.
No.
She chuckled, shook her head.
No, I
don't think so.
Well, Mr. Van Horne,