The Swan and The Sergeant

by Albertson, Alana

  Plans? Was he still upset after all these years about the way I had ended our engagement? Probably. I had been such a bitch. Of course he wouldn’t want to hang out with me. But he had no idea what had happened. Well, that was my fault. I never told him. I couldn’t tell him. He would kill Dima if he knew.

  And I hated to admit it, but I was almost shocked that he’d told me no. No one told me no anymore. I was so used to people fawning over me, that Bret’s rejection stunned me.

  Who was I kidding? I didn’t deserve him after what I’d done.

  My cheeks burned with fresh guilt. A hollow pain radiated in my chest. Ten years of wondering, imagining, dreaming of our reunion, and all I got was a weak hug? I couldn’t even get my first love to have a casual drink with me. And let’s be real—I didn’t just want to hang out with him. I wanted to spend the night with him. He was gorgeous.

  I bit my lip and shrugged my shoulders. “I get it. Well, it was nice seeing you again.”

  Benny Brooks snuck up behind us. “Bret, m’boy. Great to see you again. I see you’ve reacquainted yourself with Selena—why don’t you both come inside, and we can get started.”

  Get started? What was going on?

  Bret fidgeted. “I have to dance…with her?”

  Benny’s lips turned upwards into a devilish grin. He opened the doors to the ballroom. “Selena, I want you to partner Bret for his tryout.”

  Tryout? What the hell?

  A thud echoed against the floor. My purse lay at my feet, and I scrambled to pick it up again. “Benny, uhm, you never said it was a tryout. You said you just needed to borrow me to run through choreography?”

  “Sorry, sweetie. I thought it would be best if you dance with Bret for his audition. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that we’re hiring a new professional this season. A true-blue United States Marine! The audience will love him. They’re sick of seeing all the foreign wankers. And since you used to be his sheila, I thought it would be easier for him to dance with you.”

  Bret grimaced. “Whatever you say, Benny.” Bret walked into the ballroom, sat on a chair, and took some dancing shoes out of the box.

  “Tryout? Uhm, of course, Benny. No problem. I didn’t know Bret was dancing again or like ever.” My gaze darted over to Bret only for a moment. “But of course, you’d be lucky to have him on the show. He is…I mean, was, an amazing dancer.”

  Could I speak in coherent sentences? That was a definite no.

  I sat on a chair on the opposite side of the room from Bret and started attacking the soles of my shoes with my shoe brush, pieces of suede flying in the air.

  Despite my childhood dream of Bret and I making a life together, I hadn’t been able to turn down Dima’s partnership offer. I had made an agonizingly difficult decision. Now, I was exactly where I’d hoped to be in my career.

  But I’d never expected Bret would be sitting in the same room, waiting to dance with me again.

  Bret

  I laced up my dance shoes. What was I doing? I couldn’t dance with Selena again—no matter how good she looked, how good she smelt. I knew the producers would throw us together. I just didn’t think it would be this soon.

  Pierce’s little boy’s face flashed in my mind. When I’d stopped in to see him on my way here, he’d been so grateful. But the house had been falling apart, the garden overgrown, and if I hadn’t already been given approval from the Marine Corps to take this chance, I’d have quit then and there—just to make that kid smile.

  But I could do better by earning this money for him and his family.

  Too bad I had to burn through two years of personal vacation time to do the show. I had one shot at convincing the executive producer of Dancing Under the Stars that I was the right man for the job.

  I was perfect on paper—a decorated United States Marine, an American Ballroom Champion—but could I still dance? I’d have to prove myself.

  Seeing Selena…it threw me. I hadn’t counted on seeing her so soon and definitely hadn’t expected to touch her and smell her. She looked so hot, all natural and not painted up. The thought of running my hands all over her curvy body made me lose focus. I wasn’t prepared to be this close to her so soon.

  I walked over to Benny. My former master coach looked just like I’d remembered: tall, silver-haired, with just a hint of sleaze. Ballroom’s very own Crocodile Dundee. An icon in the dance world, Benny was a six-time Blackpool champion, winning twice with each of his first three wives. His fourth and current wife, Dancing Under the Stars professional dancer Vika, was a twenty-four-year-old Ukrainian knockout who was also Dima’s cousin.

  Benny stretched out his hand, his blood-orange silk suit shimmering with the movement. His hair was the same color as the sterling silver in his black jade bolo tie.

  Benny held out his hand. “This is just a formality. I told the other producers that a better man never stood in two dance shoes. Your blood’s worth bottling. It would be an honor to have a hero on our show.”

  I cleared my throat. I never knew how to respond to someone calling me a hero. “Thank you, Benny, for giving me the opportunity. It’s great to see you again.”

  The doors flew open, and I was overtaken by the spicy smell of strong perfume. Karen Brooks Lopez stormed in. Karen was a two-time Blackpool Latin Champion with Benny, her first husband. They had two children together, Nicole and Jared. Then Karen shocked the dance world by leaving Benny when she was thirty, at the peak of her career, for her eighteen-year-old student, Carlos Lopez.

  Karen trained Carlos, and eventually, they won Blackpool, stealing the title from Benny and his second wife. Karen had a reputation for being a diva, demanding limousines, and five-hundred-thread-count sheets. She and Carlos spent all of their energy training their own little devil spawn, Gregory Lopez, a brilliant rising star in the amateur Latin world.

  Karen took my face in her hands and kissed my cheeks. “Bret, wow. You have turned into a sexy man.” She ran her fingers over my biceps, and I flinched.

  “Hi, Karen. You look beautiful as always.” I kissed her hand and then stepped aside to create some distance between us.

  “Oh, Bret. I can see you’re still the charmer. I’ll tell Carlos to watch out—I might have found my next husband. Need to catch up to Benny.” She laughed. Her cackle reminded me of the screaming golden jackals in Iraq.

  Benny rubbed his temples. “Are we done? We have a show to cast. Don’t mind her, Bret; she’s got kangaroos loose in the top paddock.”

  I laughed. I always loved Benny’s funny Australian slang.

  Karen playfully smacked my butt. Yup, she hadn’t changed a bit. “Well, I’m ready for a show.” Her fake, plump lips curled, and she flashed me a smile.

  I made my way to Selena. My body clenched—I was actually nervous to touch her. Seeing her made me feel like a teenager all over again.

  Selena’s green eyes seemed almost dazed. “I never thought I’d dance with you again.”

  “Neither did I.”

  It was now or never.

  I reached my hand out to her. She was ridiculously hot but looked nothing like I had remembered. My girl had been self-conscious, shy, and awkward. Her long dark hair had been wavy, shiny, and lush. I missed the girl I had fallen in love with.

  Selena’s skin glowed, showing off the freckles that were always airbrushed out in the magazines. Her hair was pulled off her face as if she had just emerged from the shower, a vision I was trying to push out of my mind.

  I ran my hand through my own hair. “I didn’t expect to run into you today. I wanted to make the show on my own, without any favors.”

  “It’s not a favor. I’m thrilled to partner you. I never even thought I’d see you again.” She bit her lip, took my hand, and got into position. “Ready?”

  “Absolutely.” I forced a smile but couldn’t look her in the eyes for more than a second. No matter how strong I was today, seeing her made my heart ache over how she had destroyed me.

  After I’d returned
from Iraq, my mom had started training me in secret. She was still a dance instructor and had rented a small studio in Oceanside to help me since I was stationed in nearby Camp Pendleton. I’d adopted Banjo, a pug/lab mix from the shelter on base, and every day after work, I would practice, then spend most nights escaping with Banjo to the dog beach to relax. Well, that and try to teach Banjo to turn off the lights, open the refrigerator, and fetch me a beer.

  Being back on American soil, spending nights staring out at the clear ocean, I had regained my sanity and made peace with my time in Iraq. I had also enjoyed my last days of anonymity.

  Now, my moment of truth had come.

  Benny turned on the music. “How about a foxtrot?”

  George Michael’s voice began singing “Feeling Good.”

  I pulled Selena into my arms, just like old times. “Sounds good.” I adjusted her into a classic foxtrot hold.

  Selena leaned her body against mine as I swayed her back and forth. We took a few basic steps, and I led her into promenade. I turned my head toward her and held her gaze this time. On the dance floor, all insecurities faded away. I was in control.

  We had been “America’s Ballroom Sweethearts,” the entire industry pinning its hopes on our backs like a million targets. Our career was mapped out for us, with sponsors who funded our travel, our coaching expenses, our costumes. We’d been the future of DanceSport.

  But I had wanted to do something honorable with my life, and she had initially supported my decision to enlist. And at the time, it had been a practical decision. Back then, there was no future in ballroom dancing. No television shows, no outside endorsements, no way to support a wife and family.

  She said she’d wait for me, but by the time I’d graduated from boot camp, she was long gone.

  She left me for Dima.

  Her thumb hooked over my right bicep as we merged together. The thump of her heartbeat vibrated off my chest, just like the first night we had made love. It wasn’t right, to get caught up in the past like this, to remember her this way. But dancing had a way of doing that, grabbing on to any weak flame and igniting it.

  I took charge and guided her through the steps. We flowed around the floor.

  After two laps, Benny changed the song. George was now singing “Jesus to a Child.”

  “Rumb-a, please,” Benny called out.

  My fingers traced over Selena’s wrist. We began to dance a slow, soulful rumba.

  Our rumba.

  I pushed her away and led her into an overturned back break, and then pulled her back into me. My hands dropped around her tiny waist, and our hips melded together. Her body moved with mine, perfectly in sync. We had once danced as a boy and a girl. Now, we danced as a man and a woman. The back of my hand brushed her neck. A lock of hair fell on her cheek. My fingers traced down her body.

  “I missed you,” she whispered as she wrapped her leg around me.

  Missed me? She left me while I was away for three months, and before I’d even had a chance to chase her, she had run off to dance with Dima.

  I’d missed her plenty—all those lonely nights of boot camp. Every time I got my ass handed to me by the drill instructors, thinking of her had given me a reason to push forward.

  At first, she wrote me weekly, then the letters tapered off. She then sent me a final letter, ending our engagement, and telling me she had returned her ring to my mother.

  When she didn’t show up at my graduation, I’d pushed her out of my mind. It had worked for a while—until she started popping up on television and every newsstand in the country. Deployment had at least meant an end to the constant torture of seeing her face on television, except even worse pinups of her were on many of my men’s walls.

  I pressed my lips to her ear, but no sound came out. I placed my hand on her lower back and dipped her to the floor.

  Benny cut off the music.

  “Ace! Bravo, mate. You haven’t lost your step. I told the suits as much. What do you think, doll?”

  Selena pulled away from me. “It’s as if he never quit.”

  Benny conferred with Karen, acting like professionals, not ex-spouses. Karen laughed at something Benny was saying. Selena and I stood there, both keeping our gazes upfront.

  But even though I was a trained Marine, I couldn’t keep my attention at front. I stole a glance at Selena. She had been so warm against me just a few minutes ago.

  Maybe I should try to seduce her. She’d asked me to have a drink with her, but I said no, and she told me she missed me. What kind of dumbass was I? She was perfection.

  But she belonged in my past.

  I’d been wrong before. It wasn’t dancing that was awkward as hell. It was this, the aftermath.

  Benny turned and smiled. “Welcome to Dancing Under the Stars! I told them the other day—I said he’s the good oil. Surer than a bum in the bucket. The others thought you might have lost your touch. I said, ‘Not unless the Sahara freezes over and the camels come home with skates on.’”

  Karen kissed me smack on the lips and rubbed her nails through my hair.

  I was so thrilled that I squeezed her waist without a thought.

  I’d done it. Everything had fallen into place. I’d have enough money to help out Pierce’s family.

  “Congrats, Bret.” Selena embraced me. “I can’t wait to work with you this season.”

  My mouth stretched wide, and I was seized with the urge to hold her again. But I couldn’t let myself go there, ever. I could never trust Selena.

  I should thank her for making me look good on the floor. A dancer was only as good as his partner, and despite her shock over seeing me without warning, she’d held her own. I mean, why wouldn’t she? She was the best dancer in the world.

  But she was already looking away, so I aimed my grin at Benny and Karen instead, extending a hand. “Thank you, Benny, Karen. I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I’m sure you won’t. We have some details to go over with the contract.” Benny addressed Selena. “Thanks, doll. We won’t need you anymore.”

  She twirled a lock of her hair. “You sure? I can stay and give him some pointers if you like.”

  Benny shooed her away. “I know you have to get ready for tomorrow. You can shoot through.”

  “Okay. Bye, Bret.” She turned toward me and gave me another quick hug. “See you soon.” She removed her shoes, placed them in her bag, put her sunglasses back on, and walked out of the ballroom. The door slammed behind her.

  “Don’t fret about her—she’ll be apples. Now, tomorrow night, we have a crew ready to take some footage for your introduction on the show,” Benny said as he rifled through his briefcase.

  “Tomorrow? At the competition?” I didn’t want to watch Selena compete. At least, not with Dima. Seeing that slimy motherfucker put his hands all over her would make me ill. He had been our teacher—Dima had groomed her. It wasn’t right.

  “Well, you must lob in. You’ll get to mingle with most of the cast. There’s also a surprise for you.”

  A surprise? Dancing with Selena was enough of a surprise. What else was Benny plotting? “I’ll be there.”

  Benny rattled on about schedules, media appearances, and payment plans as Karen ogled me. I might’ve been able to pay attention to what Benny was saying had it not been for Selena’s lingering coconut scent on my skin.

  Selena

  Loud booms caused the floor to vibrate. I followed the bass path to the sound system, where I found Dima dressed in a flashy Armani suit. I almost tripped over him. Not that he’d notice with his gaze set on Elizabeth, his latest blonde-haired, blue-eyed, baby-faced prodigy, and the youngest professional dancer on the show at only eighteen. Dima had discovered her at a studio in Utah and recommended that Benny cast her on the show.

  “Excuse me…” I interrupted.

  “Hi, Selena,” Elizabeth said. “Dima was, uhm, he was just going over some steps with me. Good luck tonight. I’ll see you inside.” Then she ducked away.

 
; Dima leaned on the pillar next to him and smiled. “Ready to win, Zaika?”

  I winced. Though I’d once been quite fond of his cute nickname for me, a word that meant rabbit, hearing him use it now made me want to hop away. “Found out who the mystery dancer is.” I teased.

  He glared at me. “Who it is?”

  “It’s Bret.”

  Dima’s back straightened, temples bulging. “Bret . . . Lord?”

  “Yup. Isn’t that crazy?”

  His hand tightened into a fist. “I don’t understand. Isn’t he in the war? He hasn’t danced together with anyone in years.”

  I took a step back, crossing my arms. “He’s still with the Marines. I’m as confused as you are. Benny asked me to partner him in his tryout.”

  “How did he dance together with you?”

  “He was incredible, actually.” I watched the jealous reaction on Dima’s face and enjoyed it. Maybe we will use that anger tonight in our Paso.

  His lips curled. “That’s ridiculous.” He tapped his foot. “It do not matter. We need to focus now.” He squeezed my hand. “Remember, we are nothing without each other.”

  Dima loved me in his own way, I knew that. But our love had always been toxic.

  Jenny Ming walked over to us. “Selena, we have to leave now.” Jenny’s pale face flushed red, her eyes darting at Dima. Her hatred toward him was an open secret. She was clutching my makeup case. “You still have to gossip with the judges, and I have to sew you into your costume and do your makeup.”

  I hated talking to the judges. Picturing their faces caused that fluttery sensation in my stomach that I got before every competition.

  I exhaled. “Let’s do this.”

  Jenny, who was also on Dancing Under the Stars, competed in Standard, not Latin, so we could always help each other get ready. Tonight was my night, and Jenny rushed about, making sure everything went as planned.

  Dima hooked my arm and led me inside the ballroom, with Jenny trailing behind us.