Shall We Dance?

by Lynn Patrick

  Standing in the entryway, Price tried to imagine how the place would look when the overhead lights were dimmed and the first show began.

  The sound and lighting crews were already busy making preparations for dress rehearsal. A man nearly swung from the rafters as he adjusted a spotlight.

  “That’s good, Charlie,” the lighting director shouted from below. “Now check the one in the middle.” When the director glanced over his shoulder, he noticed Price. “Ah…why, hello, Mr. Garfield.” He smiled. “I bet you’re excited about seeing your son dance tomorrow night.”

  Price smiled. “That I am.” But he was certain Kit wouldn’t be equally excited at the thought of his old man observing him. His son had even admitted he wouldn’t have agreed to perform at all if he’d known Price owned the club. Price wondered if Kit knew how much that hurt.

  Of course, he could hardly blame Kit for resenting him. He’d scarcely seen him since his childhood. And that was the last time Price had managed to tell his son how much he loved him. Today he had tried to work up to the subject, but he’d only made the younger man uncomfortable.

  Why couldn’t he say the right thing at the right time? Why did he back away at the very moment he should advance? Or worse, take the opposite, angry tack? He’d had the same problems in his relationship with Anita.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Garfield,” the lighting director said as he approached. “Could you step aside? We need to carry some equipment through here.”

  Price moved down to the dance floor level, scuffing his feet experimentally over the polished black tile surface. He gazed at the open, two-sided “flying” stairway that led up to the platform of the stage. He and Anita had danced up and down a similar set of steps in one of the dance scenes of Tap Me on the Shoulder. That particular set was where he and Anita had had their first big blowup….

  Hollywood, 1954

  HAVING FILMED a couple of solo scenes, Price hadn’t seen Anita all day. When he finally found her, she was dressed in street clothes and looking over the flying staircase set on which they were to start rehearsing the next day.

  “So what do you think?” he asked, coming up behind her and encircling her waist loosely with his arms.

  Anita leaned back against him and giggled softly. “Gosh, I hope I won’t get dizzy.”

  “We’ve danced up and down stairs before.”

  “But they always had walls behind them, or railings. There’s nothing to hold on to here.”

  “You can hold on to me,” Price told her as she turned to face him. He tightened his hold on her waist. He would never let her go if only she would say the word. Then he added more seriously, “Don’t stare at your feet. That’s the real trick.”

  She pushed at him playfully. “I never peek at my feet while I’m dancing. You know better than that.”

  He nodded. “You’re a real trouper.”

  Anita had gotten better and better the more they’d danced together. Experienced as he was, so had he. Price drew her closer, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

  Smiling, Anita lowered her voice so that any crew members who happened to be wandering by wouldn’t hear. “You’re so romantic.”

  He smiled into her adorable, lovely face. “Speaking of romantic, where do you want to go and what time can I see you tonight? How about dinner, say about eight?”

  “Tonight?” Anita sobered and drew back. “Er…I’m busy.”

  “Busy with what?”

  “I already have plans.”

  He caught his breath. “A date?”

  “A publicity thing.” She patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I’m only doing this for Sol.”

  But he was appalled and jealous and unable to hide his feelings. “I didn’t really think you’d go through with another one of these arranged dates after the last time, Anita.”

  She knit her feathery brows. “You sound like you’re accusing me of being unfaithful.”

  Well, in Price’s mind, they were unofficially engaged, and she should see him exclusively no matter what the studio wanted. But Anita was always trying to placate Sol when the old tyrant got into one of his snits about something.

  “Who is the man this time?” Price asked.

  “Oh, one of the other RPO contract actors.”

  He didn’t like the studied way she was trying to sound so casual. “Who?”

  “Um, Steven James…he’s had several leading roles.”

  “I know the parts he’s had.” And Price was furious. “How could you date Steven James?” he demanded. “He is so annoyingly suave….”

  And at least half a head taller than he was.

  Anita tried to be conciliatory as she straightened his tie. “So? You’re suave, too.”

  “And he’s handsome.”

  She widened her eyes fetchingly. “I like your looks better.”

  He didn’t believe it for a moment.

  “And Steven doesn’t dance all that well,” Anita added. “You might like to know that.”

  But Price felt as if a knife had been plunged into his heart. “I don’t care if the man has two left feet. I just want you all to myself.”

  “But that’s impossible in our current situation.”

  “Then change our situation. Tell Sol you won’t do it, that we’re planning to be married.”

  Anita was becoming agitated. Her blue eyes flashed. “Sol won’t approve. And we’ve already discussed this. I’m not ready to tie the knot—you’re being unreasonable.”

  “I can’t object to my girl dating other men?”

  “You know it won’t mean anything. Why can’t you trust me?”

  “I’d rather have no reason for distrust,” he said angrily. “You’re my girl.”

  “You don’t own me, Price.”

  “But the studio does, is that right?” Price demanded, forgetting to keep his voice low. Several crew members were watching the interchange with interest, but he didn’t care. “I guess I should realize what comes first with you.”

  “You know I love you. You’re the only one.”

  “So you keep telling me.” He turned to walk away. “But actions speak louder than words.”

  “Price! Where are you going?”

  “To my dressing room.”

  “Come back here right now. We can’t leave things like this.”

  He turned to gaze at her intently, noting that her firm little jaw was set. “Then call off the date and marry me—tonight. Let’s elope. RPO will be flooded with enough publicity to satisfy even Sol.”

  She sighed and shook her head slowly. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Then I’ll see you in rehearsal tomorrow,” he said coldly, once again turning away.

  “Price!”

  But he kept walking, his heated reaction merely a preview of the fireworks he felt building within him.

  Hollywood, Present Day

  WHEN LUCILLE’S LIMOUSINE delivered her to Cheek to Cheek for dress rehearsal that evening, Gabby happened to meet Kit coming in at the same time.

  “Hi.”

  She smiled, feeling a little thrill of excitement at the mere sight of her dance partner. Not that she’d figured out how to handle the emotional complications their association had brought about.

  “Want some help with those?” Kit asked, taking several of the heavy dress and accessory bags she was carrying. “Why didn’t you have the costumes delivered to the club?”

  “I wanted to show them to Mom first.”

  “Did she like them?”

  He opened the door for her, then followed her inside, stopping to gaze at the gleaming stage and dance floor visible beyond the entryway.

  “She thought they were fabulous. Your friend did a great job. I can’t wait to show them off tomorrow night.”

  “I just hope everything goes well.”

  “You sound doubtful.” Taking a chance that he wouldn’t be offended, she joked, “Getting nervous?”

  “I’ve been nervous from the beginning.”


  Gabby was surprised that Kit admitted to any sort of weakness. “I’m sure we’ll be a hit. I have a good feeling about this.”

  He laughed. “Then I’m going to put my trust in your intuition…as well as your ability. Despite our disagreements I want you to know that you’re the best partner I’ve ever had.”

  “Why thank you.”

  Considering his professional dancing had always been with partners, Gabby felt flattered—and a private thrill.

  “And you’re very professional,” Kit told her. “I was out of line yesterday when I claimed otherwise.”

  “I knew you didn’t mean it.”

  “But I didn’t really apologize. I’m sorry.”

  She smiled warmly. Kit could be a real sweetheart when he tried to be. “That’s okay. I probably shouldn’t have jumped down your throat about your father seeing my mother.”

  “Considering our parents’ backgrounds, I guess we’ll always be haunted by them in some way or another.”

  Haunted? “You mean as dancers?”

  “And as boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever they were.”

  “They were never lovers, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

  Kit’s expression was disbelieving. “That’s a hard one to swallow, considering how neurotic they are over the old relationship.”

  “But it’s true nonetheless.” Gabby believed her mother, no matter what Price might have told his son. “Mom was still a kid when they became partners and only nineteen when they broke up, after all.”

  Kit didn’t pursue the issue. “Whatever the reason, they seem to have unfinished business.”

  Which continued to concern Gabby. “After all these years, you’d think they’d realize it’s a bit too late.”

  “That’s up to them to decide, isn’t it?” Kit asked, gazing at her assessingly.

  He made her feel as if they, too, had some kind of decision to make. Remembering the personal discovery she’d made after their argument, Gabby felt a flare of nerves that had nothing to do with performing.

  “I suppose so.”

  “Look, let’s forget about Price and Anita for the next week,” Kit went on. “Let’s concentrate on us. I can’t control my father, and I don’t think you can make your mother do what you think best, either.”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  Aware that he wasn’t convincing her, he finally said, “I know you feel more strongly about the situation than I, but I hope that won’t come between us.”

  “I don’t expect you to agree with me,” Gabby said, not quite certain she was being honest. She certainly wanted him to agree with her. About their parents. About them. About everything. She hated fighting with Kit. With the man she loved.

  “Good, because I’d hate to lose the rapport we’ve developed while rehearsing together,” he said.

  “Me, too.”

  Their eyes met, Kit’s flickering with emotion Gabby couldn’t help imagining was more than friendliness. She swallowed hard.

  “I think it’ll help if we always try to be honest with each other, don’t you?” he asked, watching her closely.

  “Openness is best,” she agreed, but Gabby wasn’t willing to expose her feelings yet—maybe she never would be. Taking rejection well wasn’t one of her strong suits.

  He paused, glancing toward the stage again. “Shall we get ready to rehearse?”

  “Sure.”

  When Gabby reached her dressing room, she hurried inside and shut the door. Usually open and willing to take chances, she felt uncomfortable with anything less than the truth. But then again, she hadn’t expected to fall for the son of her mother’s old flame.

  What a sticky situation!

  Her business and life were in New York; Kit’s in California. Even if Kit was head over heels in love with her, they didn’t have much of a future together.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LIKE MANY PERFORMERS, Gabby always felt more confident a day or two before a performance than on the big night itself. She was so nervous before the opening on Friday that she started hyperventilating before she was even dressed. At least she knew what to do from her days on Broadway. She breathed into a paper bag to calm herself while her dresser, Maria, zipped up her white satin gown.

  She knew that the jitters would only be temporary. Once she appeared in the spotlight everything would be fine. And the moment was coming up soon. Kit and Gabby were on immediately after an introductory routine by Lucille, which was coming in loud and strong over the monitor installed in Gabby’s dressing room.

  “You gotta be familiar with two of the greatest names in the history of dance,” Lucille was saying. “Anita Brooks and Price Garfield.”

  “Oh, boy, we’re up,” Gabby muttered, pulling away from Maria.

  “Break a leg, Miss Brooks,” the dresser called after her.

  “You’re gonna think you’re seeing ghosts from the past,” Lucille went on.

  Gabby pulled up the fluted skirts of her gown and ran from the dressing room to the wings of the small stage. Kit was already waiting there, tall and elegant in his perfectly tailored tuxedo. And he looked as cool as a cucumber, the lucky man.

  “Ready?” he asked with a smile.

  “I was born ready, baby,” she retorted saucily, psyching herself up for the romantic dances that were to come.

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  And then came Lucille’s cue. “‘Mesmerizing You,’ performed by Gabrielle Brooks and Kit Garfield!”

  Gabby and Kit entered the stage in character. Then, descending opposite sides of the flying staircase, they met on the dance floor as the orchestra picked up the melody.

  Facing the bright spots and an anonymous sea of intent faces, Gabby felt the adrenaline surge through her body. Victory swept through her even before she and Kit began to move together. This was what she had been waiting for—this sense of rightness that she had only when performing. Pretense became her reality if only for a few short moments. She stepped, turned, whirled to the music, all the time focusing on her partner and the movements of the dance.

  She had never felt so alive.

  On Kit’s face she saw a reflection of her own all-too-real emotion. Was this part of his act, or did he care about her, too? Gabby wondered fleetingly before losing herself completely in the dance.

  Graceful minutes flew by with the speed of light. Before Gabby knew it, the number was coming to a close. Kit bent her over his arm in the classic Hollywood pose. As she had in their first rehearsal, Gabby wound her arms about his neck and pulled herself up until their lips met and the music melded into a breathless silence. A single spotlight lingered on them, then dimmed to black.

  Applause resounded through the club.

  “Now that’s real romance for ya!” Lucille cried above the noise of the enthusiastic audience.

  The spots switched back to Lucille, who sparkled in blue sequins at the microphone. Gabby and Kit exited unobtrusively. And the applause went on. Entering the stage door on the dance floor level, Gabby would have cheered if she weren’t aware they had two more numbers to perform.

  Kit stopped before mounting the stairs that led up to the dressing rooms and hugged her as Lucille introduced the next act. “We did great, didn’t we? Just like you predicted.”

  “I knew my hunch would be right.”

  When he stooped to brush her lips with his own, she gave in to temptation and kissed him. She tried to tell him so much with that one silent embrace that Kit’s eyes looked glazed when she finally pulled back.

  “Whew!” He quirked his eyebrows and adjusted his bow tie.

  Pleased by the reaction she’d evoked, Gabby grinned and ran her fingers through his hair.

  “Now it’ll have to be recombed,” he complained halfheartedly.

  “I just can’t help myself.” She leaned in toward him. “Dancing like this is just so…wonderful.”

  Especially since she was partnered by the incredibly sexy
Kit Garfield.

  His gaze intense, Kit looked as if he were about to kiss her again when Gabby’s dresser appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Miss Brooks, we don’t have much time to change costumes and hair.”

  “I’ll be right there, Maria.”

  Kit kissed the tip of Gabby’s nose before he let her go. With a last look over his shoulder, he headed for his own dressing room as Gabby started for hers.

  Because she had opted for completely different looks for each number, she had a tight schedule between dances. Right now three singers doing a medley of Andrews Sisters tunes were onstage, but Gabby and Kit would soon be required to appear again.

  Maria zipped and snapped her into the beautiful gold-sequined dress, then worked on her hair with a curling iron. Gabby checked the mirror and touched up her makeup. She wondered if Kit had taken her seriously. She hadn’t meant to come on quite so strongly, but the heady experience of performance always opened her up emotionally.

  As she made her way back to the stage, the skirts of the gold dress swayed about her legs. The costume was almost an exact duplicate of the original gown and made Gabby feel her best.

  Kit’s green eyes flashed admiringly as she approached. “Ready?”

  “Very.”

  She took his hand, her clasp warm and steady, and, more than ever, Kit felt as if the two of them were right together. He didn’t have the luxury of delving into the sentiment more thoroughly, since the singing trio was already exiting into the wings. He prepared himself mentally as Lucille introduced “Dance with Me.”

  The drama began with Kit following Gabby slowly down one side of the stairs to the opening strains of the music. A sophisticated tune with a sad, yearning undertone, the melody expressed the unrequited love of his character for hers.

  At Kit’s first approach he and Gabby danced side by side. She tried to escape, only to be caught before she ascended the stairs. Grasping her wrist, he swung her back into his arms. Her weighted skirts snapped around them both. They completed a few steps, dipped and whirled until she escaped again. This time Kit followed her up the stairs and danced her down the other side. The feat looked far easier than it actually was, but Kit had always looked for challenges to enhance his choreography.