by Lynn Patrick
She stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “I hated feeling angry with you.”
“Does that mean you aren’t anymore?” he asked coolly.
“Now I’m just hurt.”
She hated wearing her heart on her sleeve, too, but she couldn’t let bad feelings continue to build between them.
“And you want to talk about it?”
“If you’re willing.”
He gazed at her intently. “I’d like to see things between us cleared up.”
“We were both using the dance as a metaphor for other issues.”
“Obviously.”
She felt relieved that he seemed so calm; perhaps he’d already had enough time to cool down. Now it was up to her to straighten things out between them. But how to start?
“Have a seat,” he suggested, taking his feet off the table.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper with you,” she began. “But I think I should explain where I was coming from this morning.” Gabby paused. This was harder than she’d expected, and he wasn’t giving her any encouragement. He was staring at her with that enigmatic expression that he seemed to have perfected. “You may have a career to go back to when this engagement is over—a job that satisfies you. I don’t.”
“I thought you ran a dance school.”
“That’s right. But I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of teaching classes for the rest of my life,” she told him in a low voice. “And I’ve never confessed that to anyone other than myself, so don’t spread it around, all right?”
“Who would I tell?”
“Your father, my mother. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Your secret’s safe.”
“It’s not that I don’t enjoy working with students, exactly. But I need a better avenue for my creativity. Perhaps I’d feel differently if I’d ever reached the top of my profession. As it was, my heart was broken when I retired from Broadway.” She paused, gazing at her feet. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but that’s the truth.”
Kit couldn’t help but feel touched by her vulnerability. “You’re not a failure, Gabby. Luck and timing are also very important in show business success. And you’re very talented. If you try, I’m sure you can dream up plenty of other ways to exercise your skills.”
“I don’t know whether I could love anything as much as dancing.”
He remained sympathetic. Although he hated to admit it, he himself had fond memories of his club performance days, and he was going to miss performing even more after the stint at Cheek to Cheek.
“I was so hopeful when Luke Sheffield approached us about the movie this morning,” Gabby went on. “At least I would have several more months of dancing and the possibility of making further connections.”
The movie again. “I understand, but—”
“Do you really?” she cut in swiftly. She leaned forward. “You seem to have overlooked another advantage working on a movie together would offer us. I’d be staying in California for a while instead of returning to New York.” When he remained silent, she went on. “We could be together personally…if that matters to you.”
“It matters to me. But I don’t see that this movie is the only way we can continue our relationship. Or that it promises a career to come.”
“What else do you suggest?”
“Airline tickets aren’t so expensive between New York and L.A. We could still see each other.”
She didn’t appear happy with that solution. “Three or four times a year at the most. No, I wouldn’t go for that.”
No? The thought of never seeing her again hit him even harder than he would have expected.
“Why wouldn’t traveling back and forth work?” he asked, hoping to persuade her. “Maybe you’re not used to long-distance relationships.” He stood up and approached her. “I’ve done it. I grew up with it. My mother was on location when she met my father and most of the time during their marriage.”
“Which ended in divorce.”
True. Kit had also broken up with the girlfriend he’d traveled to see after only two trips. And his feelings for Gabby ran much deeper than they had for any other woman. His gaze swept over her, the sheen of her red-gold hair, the ivory perfection of her shoulders and arms above the beaded bodice of the silky lavender dress, the sincere clarity of her aqua-blue eyes when she looked up at him. His heart tripped, making him feel young and silly.
“A bicoastal relationship may be trendy, but I guess I want our relationship to be a bit more old-fashioned and fulfilling,” she admitted. “Why can’t you at least take a look at the script?”
“One script, one movie can’t be the solution,” he insisted logically.
“Say ‘might not be.’ That’s less negative.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“And furthermore, you could be wrong. This movie could be a start in the right direction, Kit. We would be working together for months. Who knows what might happen after that, what we could make happen?” Her expression hinted at a multitude of hopes. “I don’t expect one movie to make me a big star. I only want the chance to dance professionally as long as possible…with you.”
“Our dancing has been an incredible experience,” he agreed.
Sensual, dynamic, inspiring. The perfection of their partnership had added another dimension to their relationship…had made a difference in his life, he had to admit.
“Won’t you please read the script?” Gabby asked again.
Kit was trying to imagine how he would get along without her if she returned to New York.
“You’ll enjoy doing more performing and choreography,” she continued. “You love dancing. You couldn’t be so good at it otherwise.”
He sighed. He couldn’t hide his most secret desires from her.
“So will you or won’t you?” she persisted.
“All right.” Despite all his rationalization about not wanting to make a movie, he had to give in or lose her. “I’ll read the thing. I suppose committing an hour and a half of my time couldn’t hurt.”
“Wonderful!” She rose to face him, her soft lips curving into a beautiful smile.
“But I’m not promising anything.”
“The fact that you’re willing to be open-minded is enough for me right now.”
But what about later? Kit wondered. What would happen if he decided he wasn’t interested in making the movie? Incredibly the thought frightened him.
“Thank you so much, Kit,” she murmured, moving nearer to kiss him.
Her lips were feather-soft. Overwhelmed by Gabby’s closeness, inhaling her light perfumed scent, he felt the love that had begun on the dance floor flowing through him. Over the wall speaker a love tune drifted in from the club. How appropriate.
Kit slid his hands along the warm smoothness of Gabby’s arms. “I guess that bicoastal thing isn’t really all that appealing when you get down to it,” he told her gruffly. “I don’t want you to leave California before we have a chance to explore the possibilities.”
“Good, because I don’t want to go.”
Dangling herself in connection with a movie deal could smack of emotional blackmail, Kit realized. But what were the alternatives? He wasn’t exactly ready to suggest she move in with him or get married, and he could understand her reluctance to become involved in a long-distance relationship. For that matter, he was reluctant, too, when he really thought about it. He wanted her in his arms as often as possible.
“I don’t even want you to leave this dressing room,” he murmured, pulling her against him.
“So make me stay.”
He acquiesced, leaning in to kiss her.
“I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, or even next week, but I’ll take advantage of what you’re willing to give right now,” she said.
He pulled her to him tightly, as if holding her would keep her from leaving him. He kissed her delicately, sweetly.
“I love you, Gabby,” he said softly, the words slipping out before h
e knew he was going to say them.
“I love you, too, Kit.”
He kissed her, wondering why the magnitude of their declarations didn’t have the power to frighten him. Instead, it seemed so natural.
And if they both cared so much, surely they could work out their future together.
AFTER THE SHOW, Price and Anita waited almost an hour at Lucille’s table for Kit and Gabby.
“I wonder what’s taking them so long,” Anita fretted.
“I’ll go see,” Price offered.
He slipped backstage to see what was going on. He wasn’t prepared for the murmured voices and low laughs coming from Kit’s dressing room. But then he shouldn’t be so surprised, Price told himself as he hurried away, a bit embarrassed. Both he and Lucille had noticed the looks that passed between Kit and Gabby and had discussed the amount of time they spent together above and beyond rehearsal.
If Anita hadn’t realized the kids had a thing for each other by now, she must be going blind. Price didn’t intend to tell her, however. He wasn’t sure how she would handle the information and decided to avoid discussing their children’s possible relationship altogether.
“So what’s the delay?” Anita asked immediately when he returned to the table.
Price thought fast as he sat down. “They were tired and decided to leave.”
“Too tired to stick around for even fifteen minutes?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Apparently. You know they’ve been rehearsing every spare moment.”
Anita looked disapproving. “Gabby has been extremely exhausted by the rehearsals.”
Exactly how upset would Anita be if she knew there was a second generation romance going on? Selfishly he hoped the additional complication wouldn’t harm his own pursuit of the woman he loved. They finally seemed to be hitting it off without the constant bickering that had been such a hurdle only a week ago.
He scooted his chair closer to Anita’s and took a sip of wine. At the moment he had his girl all to himself. Some of Lucille’s other guests were dancing and the rest, including several of the boarders, were clustered at the other end of the table, gossiping among themselves.
He slid an arm across the back of Anita’s chair.
She leaned away. “So what do we do?”
He frowned in annoyance. “Do about what?”
“Kit and Gabby. They’re burning the candle at both ends.”
“They’re adults, Anita, and they’re obviously having a good time. I don’t think we should do anything.”
“But…they’re always together,” Anita explained, hesitating a little, as if she wanted to choose her words carefully. “And they’re both single. It might be very easy for them to become interested in each other.”
Aha. Maybe she wasn’t so blind, after all.
He gave her a nonchalant shrug. “I guess we’ll have to let nature take its course.”
Anita frowned. “I don’t know if Kit would be good for Gabby.”
Price couldn’t help bristling. “And what’s the matter with my son? He’s successful and good-looking and a fine human being.”
“But he must be a fairly confirmed bachelor by this age.”
“Maybe he hasn’t run into the right girl yet.”
“Is he kind and considerate?”
“More than that, he’s big-hearted—ask Lucille how good he’s been to her over the years. And he’s got straight-shooting values, as well,” Price insisted.
“Considering the fact that you spend no time together, how would you know?”
“I’ve kept track of him from the time he was in grade school.” He shifted uncomfortably at the admission.
Anita’s expression was curious. “Even though you didn’t keep up a real relationship?”
“I’ve always had someone keep an eye on Kit for me. Even now. Several old associates work within the Garfield Corporation. My son is hardworking, honest, sharp—”
“All right, all right,” she interrupted, laughing. “He’s a wonderful choice for my daughter to date. I wasn’t trying to malign your family honor.”
Price glanced down at the club’s crowded dance floor, wondering if he should ask Anita to dance or to get her out of there. He didn’t want Kit and Gabby to show suddenly and expose his lie. When Anita leaned back in her chair and yawned, he was relieved.
“You’re tired,” he said.
“A little. We’ve had a lot of late nights.”
“Since Gabby and Kit aren’t going to join us, why don’t I take you home?” Still, he would have liked to hold her while they danced.
“Sounds sensible.”
Saying good-night to Lucille and the others, they left the club. Soon they were driving along the quiet streets of Beverly Hills, passing by sprawling houses.
“I suppose I couldn’t talk you into stopping by my place for a short while?” Price asked.
Anita had to admit she was curious about seeing the interior of his mansion…. “Maybe for half an hour.”
“We’ll leave whenever you say.”
Anita didn’t see the harm; they’d been getting along so well lately. And she felt particularly warm toward Price for the way he’d stuck up for his son earlier. He obviously loved Kit, whether or not he was able to communicate his feelings. If only he could open up more, be more sure of himself. But then he’d always had that problem with insecurity.
A few blocks later Price turned the car into a winding drive that led to a wrought-iron gate, which he opened with a remote-control. Beyond lay wide-landscaped lawns and Price’s beautiful mansion with an attached four-car garage. The house was even more imposing than it had appeared in photographs, though it wasn’t as fanciful or huge as Lucille’s.
Price led her inside and showed her through the first floor before taking her up the stairs. Anita wasn’t sure how she’d feel if he made a risqué suggestion again. It had been so long since they’d really kissed. So far he’d only nuzzled her lightly while dancing. Her pulse racing at the thought, she had to admit she wouldn’t object if he kissed her.
“And here’s the screening room,” Price was saying as he switched on the light in yet another room.
“Lovely.”
Anita glanced about, admiring the thick gray wall-to-wall carpeting and the deeper gray velvet sectional sofa that took up a large part of the room. The sofa faced a massive black lacquer storage unit that lined an entire wall. In contrast with the low-key traditional or antique furnishings throughout the rest of the house, the ambience of this room was quite modern.
“But where’s the screen?” Anita asked.
Price slid back one of the storage unit’s larger panels. Behind it was a four-by-five-foot projection screen.
“And I suppose you have all of your old movies?”
“Of course. And I have a special shelf for the ones we made together. Want to see one?”
Anita laughed. “An entire movie? Not tonight.”
“Are you sure? I’ve got a great setup in here.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
The nostalgia would get to her at the moment, she was certain. And that was silly, considering the man who’d affected her so deeply all these years was standing right beside her. To put herself in a more comfortable frame of mind, however, she continued to inspect the storage unit, noting it had several rows of drawers.
“You must have lots of films,” she commented.
“Uh-huh, and even more memorabilia of other sorts.”
“Including your old tuxedo?”
“And a few of the feathers from that infernal dress in White Tie and Tails.”
Anita laughed. “You must be joking.”
“Not at all. Somebody picked them up off the floor during filming, saved them and gave them to me a few months after you left for New York.” He slid open one of the larger drawers, rummaging between a stack of photograph albums and scrapbooks. Finally he drew out a tightly sealed plastic bag and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
> The white feathers were yellow now but still intact. Anita drew a shaky breath and forced herself to smile. If she didn’t smile, she would cry.
“You sneezed up a storm when I wore these.”
“And you laughed because you knew I was allergic.”
“I didn’t mean any serious harm.”
“Even if you did, I forgive you.” He gazed at her intently, his green eyes asking her to remember the past they’d shared.
How could she ever forget it?
Uncomfortable, Anita swallowed the lump in her throat and picked up a blue album that was lying on top of the pile in the drawer. She leafed through it quickly, recognizing dozens of old photographs of herself and Price, including stills from their movies.
He came closer, gazing over her shoulder. His breath feathered her neck, making her shiver.
“So what’s in the other albums?” she asked.
“A little of this and a little of that.”
She put down the blue album and picked up a red one that was full of newspaper clippings, playbills and programs. Her playbills and programs and reviews, Anita suddenly realized, recognizing the titles of the ill-starred musicals in which she’d performed.
“How did you get this stuff?” she asked him. “Did you come to New York?” Had he been sitting in the audience while she sang and danced unaware that he was watching?
He didn’t answer directly. “It’s not hard to get anything you want if you have enough connections.”
Touched by Price’s nostalgic side, Anita wasn’t sure what to say. He’d kept up his interest in her even when they were apart. Of course, there had also been his wives….
“Do you have an album of Lana Worth’s movies somewhere around here, as well?” And Betty Masters’s? Anita wondered, curious if not willing to look them over.
“I don’t have them anymore.”
Good. At least she didn’t have to share drawer space with those other women, Anita thought. Flipping to the back of the red album, she found a more recent program.