Jenna stood by the edge of the packed dance floor scanning the crowd for the woman from last week. The blonde with the laughing eyes, dimpled cheeks and warm smile. The one who had danced with carefree abandonment. The one who’d mesmerized. Jenna had ached to speak with her but couldn’t muster the courage to do so. Instead she spent the past week daydreaming about meeting the woman, having dinner, or sharing a cup of coffee, discovering what she loved, what made her sad. Thursday night was particularly satisfying because Jenna dreamed about her, launching a new set of daytime fantasies.  A tap on the shoulder distracted her from the…