by Lynn Patrick
When the audience went wild, applauding even as the number was in progress, Kit paused for an instant, nearly forgetting his next step. The startled look in Gabby’s eyes told him she was also thrown by the unexpected reaction. But he forced himself to recover, leading his partner out onto the center of the dance floor for a waltzing movement that ended in several spins.
Again the audience clapped with enthusiasm, obviously appreciating the intricacy of the number. And Kit couldn’t help but respond. Glancing over Gabby’s shoulder, he picked out two ladies sitting in the lowest, closest tier and delighted them with a blinding smile. Suddenly the intoxicating immediacy of the performance made him feel as if he were dancing on air.
The number ended with them dancing first together, then separately up the flying staircase. In the last movement Gabby preceded her partner, throwing a sorrowful look over her shoulder. Kit assumed his character’s dejected expression, then followed his wooing to no avail.
He actually did feel sad when he finally exited, knowing that his and Gabby’s week at Cheek to Cheek would probably be their only chance to perform together. And he wasn’t sure what he would miss more—the dancing or the most well-matched partner he’d ever had.
Kit reminded himself that the joys of professional dancing were as fleeting as fame. Furthermore, who were the audience really applauding? Kit and Gabby…or Anita and Price?
THE ORCHESTRA PLAYED dance music after the show ended, so the audience could take the floor. Wearing one of her own evening dresses, a strapless coral-colored taffeta, Gabby met Kit backstage before they joined Lucille at her personal table.
“Still think we were a hit?” Kit asked.
“You have doubts after that applause?” She touched his mouth lightly with her fingers. “You can’t stop smiling, can you?”
He clasped her hand and rubbed the palm. “I had a great time.”
Gabby was fairly certain that part of Kit’s fun had come from the real attraction between them. That had certainly added pizzazz to their routines. “Tango Olé,” the last number, had practically sizzled. Costumed in a glittery long black gown, the skirt of which had been slit to the upper thigh, Gabby had wrapped one long leg around her partner at the end of the act and had stared deeply into his eyes. If Kit’s expression were any indication, he could have kissed her right there in front of the audience.
But, for the moment, the touch of his lips was gentle rather than passionate. “Shall we go see how Lucille’s doing?” he asked.
Gabby kept her tone light. “Sure.”
The club was packed, but its hostess had had several tables pushed together to accommodate her numerous personal guests— Jayne, Risa, Yancy, Neil, Harvey, Price and Anita and their offspring. Her cheeks flushed, Lucille looked adorable and happy in her blue-sequined, floor-length gown.
“And how about a hand for our stars!” Lucille enthused as soon as she saw the featured dancers heading in her direction.
The boarders and the elder Brooks and Garfield rose to clap, instigating another round of applause from the tables nearby. Gabby hugged her mother, then Lucille, Jayne, Yancy and Neil. She shook hands with Harvey and leaned over to kiss Risa’s cheek. Kit also hugged the women and shook hands with the men, including his father.
Gabby wasn’t sure how to act toward Price, either, so she let him take the initiative, turning her cheek for his kiss when he quickly embraced her.
“You’re as beautiful and talented as your mother,” Price told her with a smile.
“Thanks.”
Gabby tried not to frown as she noticed Anita beaming proudly at Price, then holding his hand when they sat back down.
“Here are your seats, kids, at the head of the table,” Lucille told them, pulling out a chair for herself on the other side of Kit. “Order whatever you want. The drinks are on the house.”
Gabby ordered wine, and while she waited for her drink to arrive, she listened to the others reminisce enthusiastically about old movie experiences. Except for Jayne. The aging glamour queen merely toyed with her margarita glass. About to ask her if something was wrong, Gabby suddenly realized someone was missing.
“Where’s Chester?” she asked.
“At home,” Jayne told her with a sigh. “His arthritis took a turn for the worse. He can hardly get out of bed.”
“Oh, dear,” Gabby said, worried and assuming Jayne was distressed about her friend.
Kit leaned close. “I contacted Chester’s doctor and made arrangements for a month’s supply of that special medicine to see if it will help.”
Gabby was warmed by her partner’s concern. “Let’s hope Chester won’t be angry with you.”
“I made the arrangements, but I’m only paying for a part of the medication. Lucille is taking the rest of the cost out of the club’s profits. Chester doesn’t have to know the details.”
As a team, they had certainly done their parts to add to those profits, Gabby was happy to realize.
Everyone glanced up when the waiter delivered a bottle of champagne along with several drinks. The man placed a handful of glasses and the champagne’s ice bucket in front of Price.
“Let’s have a toast for Kit and Gabby,” Price announced as the waiter popped the cork and poured. He stood up and raised his glass. “To my son and Anita’s daughter—real chips off the old blocks.”
“And fabulous dancers in their own right,” Anita added quickly.
Price gazed warmly at his son. “I’m very proud of you.”
Kit nodded stiffly, raising his glass to clink it with the others. Gabby was certain the “chip off the block” remark had rubbed him the wrong way.
Price turned to address his son. “Few entertainers would have dared try to pull an act like yours together in such a short time, Kit. And fewer still would have ended up with such a winner. You’re not only intelligent and creative. You’ve also got guts.”
Kit remained cool. “Too bad you didn’t realize all this years ago. You could have if you’d made an effort.”
Although his remarks didn’t shock Gabby, she was as uncomfortable as everyone else, and for a moment there was total silence. Lucille gave Kit a dark, reproving look, then broke in with a joke as Price sat back down, his face pale.
Feeling sorry for the man despite her own problems with him, Gabby elbowed Kit.
“What’s the matter with you?” she whispered. “He was being nice.”
“I don’t need his niceness,” Kit said under his breath.
“He might need yours.”
Kit frowned. “I thought you said he was a lecherous old goat.”
“He’s still your father.” And Gabby believed in taking care of family.
“But he’s years too late.”
Luckily Price didn’t hear. Anita was busy talking him into taking a whirl around the dance floor. When the couple first stepped into the throng of dancers already moving to the rhythms of big band music, they received some applause, but they were soon swept into the crowd. Yancy asked Lucille to dance, as well, leaving the rest of the boarders with the younger couple at the table.
“It’s years too late for me, too,” Harvey said mournfully, staring at the champagne left in his glass.
“What are you talking about?” Neil asked.
“Nothing important.” Harvey brushed some invisible dust off the lapels of his old tuxedo and scooted his chair back. “I’m leaving.”
“And where do you think you’re going?” Risa inquired imperiously.
“I need to find my partner.”
“Your partner?” Neil echoed as Harvey walked away from the table. “They split up almost twenty years ago. Why would he suddenly get it into his head to go looking for the guy?”
“This isn’t sudden,” Jayne said, her tone uneven. “Harvey’s been talking about his partner a lot lately. You’re so hung up on yourself that you never pay any attention.”
Neil scowled, offended. “I resent that.”
“But it’s true.”
Gabby intervened with a positive note. “Things will work out for all of you. I’m certain of it. The club’s opening success is only the beginning.”
“Right,” Jayne said.
But Gabby frowned. Why were the blonde’s lips trembling? “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jayne answered curtly, then pushed back her chair and rose.
“Now where are you going?” Risa complained. “This is some kind of party.”
“Wait.” Gabby reached across the table to catch Jayne by the hand. “Are you ill?”
The older woman shook her head and burst into tears.
“Please sit down, Jayne,” Kit said, obviously concerned. He rose to slide his arm around the weeping woman’s shoulders and help her back into her seat. “Tell us what’s bothering you.”
“I don’t want to ruin your opening night.”
“Nothing will be ruined,” Kit assured Jayne, sitting down beside her.
The blonde dabbed at her eyes and gazed from Kit to Gabby. “Well, today I…I found out I didn’t get that part I told you about.”
“You were turned down for the ‘Jayne Hunter’ type of role?” Gabby asked incredulously.
Jayne nodded. “They said the real thing was too old. I was so depressed I even thought about not coming tonight.”
“Producers are vermin!” Risa stated.
“What did the idiots want? A young Jayne Hunter?” Neil asked kindly.
Jayne shrugged. “I guess so.”
“I’ll ask my mother if she can get you an audition for the new show being planned by the producers of Hawk’s Roost,” Kit suggested.
Gabby was warmed by his offer. “That sounds like a good idea.”
But Jayne would have none of it. “I don’t want charity.”
“Come on, we all network,” Neil put in.
“But my agent already tried all the soap operas,” Jayne said. She counted on her fingers. “And advertising, sitcoms, television dramas—it’s hopeless. I think I’m going to be losing my agent, too. The last time I worked was years ago, when I modeled some bras for a commercial.”
“Do not give up yet,” Risa said, emphasizing her words as though they were a speech from an old movie. “You must always have hope.”
“Hope makes the world go round,” Neil added. “And speaking of going round, how would you like to take a turn around the dance floor, lovely Jayne?” He winked at her. “Wouldn’t a little trip along the light fantastic help you get into a better mood?”
The actress managed a shaky smile. “Maybe it would.” She gazed around the table, finally focusing on Kit and Gabby. “Thanks so much for all your support. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin things on such a glorious occasion.”
“You didn’t,” Gabby assured her, though she was saddened by Jayne’s plight. She also had a few worries of her own. Tonight’s performance had been a heady thrill, but she still had her unresolved feelings for Kit to deal with.
Worse, she was displeased by her mother’s behavior. Anita had been glued to Price’s side all night and was now dancing cheek to cheek with the old goat. Gabby had caught sight of them gliding by on the dance floor a minute ago. Romantic foolishness was understandable in a woman of her age, but Anita should know better, Gabby thought.
Her mother was too old for such nonsense.
KIT INVITED Gabby to leave with him a half hour later, even though the club’s patrons were still going strong. He knew she didn’t need a ride to Beverly Hills, since both Price and Lucille had cars at their disposal, but he hoped she’d want to keep him company. He felt a disproportionate satisfaction when she agreed.
“Are you tired?” Gabby asked as he drew her chair back and helped her with her wrap.
“I’m tired of this atmosphere. I’d like a little quiet.”
“I can understand that. Right now a peaceful atmosphere sounds inviting.”
They bid adieu to the rest of the party and left via the club’s main door. On the way Kit noticed a man staring at them, his suit contrasting with the ponytail that pulled back his thinning hair. The guy looked familiar, but Kit didn’t stop to place him. He and Gabby exited the club and were soon on the road.
“We really were great tonight,” Kit told her as he relaxed behind the wheel.
“I know. We should be ecstatic.”
Gabby didn’t sound depressed, exactly, but she wasn’t her usual vibrant self. “Did Jayne’s news get to you that much?” he asked.
“Not exactly.”
Usually not so compelled to be in tune with other people’s attitudes, he wanted to know how Gabby felt. “What, then? Did the tension between me and my father put a damper on your spirits?”
She shook her head. “I’m not in a bad mood at all, to tell you the truth. I’m merely tired and a bit thoughtful.”
“Still, I suppose I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
Gabby nodded. “I’m sure you hurt Price’s feelings.”
Kit clenched his jaw as he turned onto a crosstown freeway. He did feel guilty about rejecting his father. He’d done that twice recently. In his awkward way Price had been trying to communicate for once. Changing a lifetime of negative patterns wasn’t the easiest thing in the world for either of them, however.
“The ‘chip off the old block’ remark probably annoyed you,” Gabby commented as if she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.
“You could tell, huh?”
“You must have been very resentful from way back. Was Price really so cold to you when you were a child?”
“I always thought so. But there were other factors to take into account,” Kit admitted. “My parents argued a lot the last year they were together—that affected me. And then I’m not exaggerating when I say that I hardly saw my father after the divorce.” He tapped the steering wheel. “He certainly never encouraged me to learn dancing or choreography. Or anything, actually.” As if he’d been afraid to interfere in his own son’s life, Kit mused.
“I know what it’s like to have an absentee father.”
“So you said before. But I noticed you were quick enough to stick up for mine when you got the chance.”
“I felt sorry for him.”
Kit smiled. “You have a warm heart.” It was easy to confide in Gabby. He glanced at her sideways. “Of course, you also have beautiful legs, a gorgeous figure, a lovely face…”
“But no mind to speak of,” she teased.
“Come on, I was going to mention your intelligence next.”
She laughed. “I have a compliment for you, too.”
“Only one?”
“But it’s very important.” She turned toward him in a rustle of taffeta, placing a slim arm across the seat. “Ever since I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve sensed an undercurrent of rivalry toward your father.”
“We aren’t rivals,” Kit stated immediately, wondering how the comment was working up to a compliment. “We don’t even work in the same fields…usually.”
“Only because you don’t want to. It’s obvious that you were born to be a dancer.”
He relaxed a little. “You can utilize the same talents in many different areas.”
“Don’t get defensive,” Gabby cut in. “What’s so bad about being a dancer? And if you’re worried you’ll be eclipsed by Price Garfield’s fame, think again. In some ways your styles are similar. But he never created such sensuality with his choreography.”
Kit had to smile. “Are you sure that’s not your own personal interpretation?”
Gabby laughed. “No, I think it’s more than that.”
Gabby turned in her seat so that she was facing forward again. She glanced out the window. “Hey, aren’t we going to Beverly Hills?”
Kit gazed up at the signs over the freeway. The Pacific Coast Highway was coming up. He was on automatic pilot, his destination home.
“Oops. We seem to have passed our exits. I didn’t
do it on purpose. Really,” he assured Gabby, giving her a sidelong glance. “But since we’re headed in that direction, anyway, how about dropping by my beach house for a nightcap?”
Her tone was noncommittal when she said, “I already had a glass of wine and some champagne.”
“Your glass was half-empty, and you couldn’t have had much champagne. A bottle of bubbly only goes so far with a party of ten. I just happen to have a chilled imported bottle of my own waiting in the refrigerator.”
“Mmm, well, all right, if you put it that way.”
Kit smiled. They could share a bottle of champagne and a late-night snack, and maybe have another late-night swim. He wasn’t ready to say good-night to his lovely dance partner yet.
They arrived at the Malibu North Cove complex a little after midnight and began rehashing their evening’s performance. Gabby soon regained the breathless enthusiasm that was one of the things that drew Kit to her.
“They absolutely loved us, didn’t they?” she gushed as he unlocked the door of his house. “And did you see the way some of those women were staring at you?”
Kit laughed and switched on a light, allowing her to enter before him. “If you’re referring to the two gray-haired ladies in the front row, I worked them a little—made eye contact and smiled directly at them.”
“You sly dog.” Not that she hadn’t worked the audience herself once she’d realized the dancing was going over well.
“What can I do? I’m an inveterate flirt.”
She turned to him with a smile of her own. “Are you?”
Rather than answering, Kit merely gave her an enigmatic look. Taking off his tuxedo jacket, he led the way across the central open room to the kitchen where he turned on another light. He removed the bottle of champagne from the refrigerator.
Making herself comfortable leaning against the counter, Gabby pursued the point. “You must have had plenty of female admirers through the years,” she said. “It’s a wonder you aren’t married by now.”