Dazzle Me (When You Dance Book 1)

by Juliana Haygert

  “I still paid for one entire year!” His voice rose again. “One entire year of tuition and boarding that went to the trash!”

  “John, calm down, dear,” my mother said, her voice breaking.

  “Dad, please, try to understand. I don’t like working for you. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing to do with you. It’s the job. I’m not cut out for it.” I sighed, knowing his hard shell wouldn’t break. “I was meant to dance. I know I was.”

  “No son of mine will wear tights and makeup and flounce around on stage like a prima ballerina!” he raged, throwing the photo at my face. The picture floated lazily to the floor, as if mocking me in slow motion. “If you really want to do this, then you’re no son of mine!”

  My father stormed past me, threw the door open, almost taking the precarious thing off its hinges, and marched away, yelling at my sister that they were leaving.

  My mother turned to me with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Josh.” She sniffed. “Why did you have to choose dance?”

  “It’s what I love, Mom.”

  A sob escaped her and she pressed a hand over her mouth. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

  She walked out of my room, and they all walked out of my apartment.

  Out of my life.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rayna

  I checked both sides of the street. Nothing. I checked my cell phone again. Nothing.

  I clearly remembered Josh telling me he would be here before my morning class ended so we could walk to the company’s studio together. And, if I didn’t leave now, I would be late.

  With a sigh, I pushed off the wall and started walking in the direction of the company. Maybe he forgot and was already at the studio? I picked up my phone again and called him. It rang and rang, but he didn’t answer. Maybe he was already in the classroom, and his phone was inside his bag in the locker room.

  There had to be an explanation.

  I got to the company’s building, and before I went to the ladies’ locker room, I checked inside every classroom—still no Josh. I rushed to the locker room and saw Zack exiting the men’s side.

  “Is Josh in there?” I asked.

  “Nope,” he said, walking past me.

  Where the hell was he?

  I tried calling again, and again he didn’t answer.

  “Come on, Josh,” I whispered.

  Josh loved dancing. He loved the classes, loved spending time in the studio. If he wasn’t here, he was either so sick he couldn’t even answer the phone, or something else, something worse, had happened.

  A pang cut through my heart and I turned away from the locker room, deciding to skip work, as bad as it sounded, and go to his apartment to check on him. I would think of an excuse later.

  “Rayna?” my mother asked from behind me. I almost tripped on my feet, but straightened and turned to her with a big smile. “Where are you going, darling?”

  “Nowhere,” I answered too quickly. I looked at the floor. “I thought I had dropped something, but I must be imagining things.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Okay. Hurry up, then, it’s almost time for class and you haven’t even changed yet.”

  If I was braver … I would have told her I couldn’t go to class and rushed out of the building. But I wasn’t braver. Actually, I wasn’t brave at all.

  “Yes, Mom,” I said in a low voice, before disappearing into the ladies’ locker room.

  ***

  Josh

  The fucking doorbell was ringing again.

  “Robbie!” I called out, hoping he was already home.

  He wasn’t. Not on Saturday night. He was probably at a gig, dancing his heart out.

  With a groan, I went to door and braced myself for the worst—my father and mother and sister. A little streak of hope snaked its way into my chest. Maybe they had spent the day thinking about everything and changed their minds about me.

  Yeah, right.

  If they were back, it was to yell at me some more.

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Damn it,” I whispered, reaching for the knob. I threw the door open.

  “Josh?” Rayna asked, stepping inside the apartment. She frowned at me. “What happened?” She closed the door without looking at it and took me in. “Why didn’t you go to the studio today? Are you sick? Hurt?”

  I groaned and plopped down on the worn-out couch.

  She sat down on an armchair beside me. “Please, talk to me,” she whispered so softly, her voice like lace and sweet cotton candy.

  I didn’t answer for a minute, because honestly, what the hell was there to say? I was just so fucking tired of thinking about it. Talking about it required too much energy.

  But this was Rayna. She deserved the truth.

  “My parents came by this morning.”

  “W-what?” She gasped. “Your parents were here? In New York?” I nodded. “And they didn’t tell you they were coming?”

  I shook my head. “They wanted to make up for not spending my birthday with me.”

  “Oh.”

  “They saw my bedroom and all the ballet stuff in there.”

  “And our pictures.” Rayna’s face had gone pale. She obviously knew where this was going.

  I nodded. “That too.” Ninety percent of our pictures were of us dancing together. I only printed a handful, and they all showed us dancing.

  “Oh, Josh …” She knelt beside the couch and rested her delicate hand on my shoulder. “I know you didn’t want them to find out this way. I’m so sorry.”

  With a scoff, I sat up. Her hand fell away. “My father told me that I’m not his son.”

  “He was just upset. A little hotheaded because how he found out about it. Give him some time; maybe he’ll come around.”

  I shook my head. “He’ll never come around.”

  “Of course he will. He’s your father.”

  “You don’t get it,” I said, my voice laced with frustration, with anger. “He will never come around.”

  Rayna sucked in a long breath and I used that moment to stand and walk to the other side of the room. I needed more space between us, because with her so close, trying to comfort me—it only made things worse. It only made me feel guiltier.

  I started pacing behind the couch, trying to level my breathing, my rapid heartbeat. I failed.

  Slowly, Rayna stood too. She waited for a couple of minutes, probably thinking I would stop or slow down. It didn’t happen. “What are you going to do now?” she finally asked.

  “I don’t know.” I ran a hand through my hair and tugged at the ends, as if the gesture would send sparks of inspiration into my brain and help me think, help me come up with a solution. What I needed was a time machine. I would go back in time and make sure I never chose to dance. I glanced at Rayna, her eyes downcast, worried about me. If I had never chosen dance, I would never have met Rayna. No, I would have used the time machine to go back in time and be honest with my parents from the beginning. If my father disinherited me, we would have already had a couple of years to reconcile. I sighed and let my arms fall to my sides. “I don’t know.”

  “Perhaps the best thing now is to look toward the future,” she said. “Now that they know, you don’t need to worry about having to lie to them anymore. You don’t have to worry about what will happen when the fake graduation comes around. They already know and now you’re free.”

  “Free of what?” I snapped without meaning to. “Of the guilt over lying to them, for betraying their trust? For making them spend money on my education when I didn’t take advantage of it? For letting my father believe I would follow in his footsteps and become his best buddy when I went back home?” My voice rose and I clenched my hands as the rage, rage at myself, exploded into me.

  She lifted her chin. “At least now you can stand up for yourself. You can stand in front of them and show them the real you.”

  A hollow chuckle bubbled out of my lips. “The same way you stand up to your mother
and show her the true you?” Rayna flinched as if I had hit her in the face. “You love ballet as much as I do, but you don’t love the life it requires, the demands, the sacrifices. All you want is to teach ballet to young girls. When are you going to stand up to your mother and tell her you’re done?”

  Rayna’s hazel eyes glossed over and her bottom lip quivered. “Wow, I’m …” She shook her head.

  Without another word or look back, Rayna picked up her tote from the armchair and marched out of the apartment.

  Good riddance!

  Ten seconds later, I realized the mistake I was making, the mistake I had already made.

  “Shit.”

  I ran after her—to apologize, to beg for forgiveness on my knees, to kiss the ground she walked on, whatever it took—but when I got downstairs and out of the building, she was already gone. Nowhere to be seen.

  “Shit,” I cursed again.

  Maybe it was better this way. If I went after her and asked her to forgive me now, there were no guarantees my rage over the situation wouldn’t get the better of me again, and I would take it out on her again without meaning to.

  I needed to calm down first, a lot, and then I would apologize profusely.

  With a heavy sigh, I went back into my apartment and threw myself in my bed, begging for this day to be over.

  ***

  Rayna

  “This is heaven,” Alicia said from my right.

  “I know, right?” Sienna said from my left. “One of the good things about being famous, I guess.”

  I had to agree. Coming to Sienna’s penthouse and being pampered with a mani-pedi and massages and the best snacks I had ever had was as close to heaven as anyone could get.

  Dressed in fluffy white bathrobes, the three of us had just indulged our second massage of the afternoon, and now we were lying on Sienna’s huge suede couches, with snacks and drinks, and watching a sappy romance movie—with lots of dancing, of course.

  Alicia leaned forward and looked at Sienna. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

  Sienna picked up a caramel cookie, made by her award-winning chef, and stared at it as if searching for an answer there. “It’s not bad, but sometimes it’s not good either.”

  “What do you mean?” Alicia asked.

  “She means the paparazzi, the fake rumors, the crazy fans who don’t let her go to the mall like a normal person,” I explained.

  “That,” Sienna said. “And more. It’s the pressure, the lies, the threats, the contracts. People are always trying to take advantage of other people, even if it means lying and cheating. I hate that.”

  “I see,” Alicia whispered, settling back on the couch.

  On the eighty-inch TV, the movie’s main couple started dancing—a slow, sensual dance that ended in bed.

  I sighed and averted my eyes, suddenly finding the mini chocolate croissants interesting.

  “How are you holding up?” Sienna asked, in a low, sympathetic tone.

  I shrugged. “I’m fine, I guess.” What a lie. It was Monday afternoon, one of my days off, and I was spending it with my girlfriends, pretending I lived a rich and prosperous life. That part was great. However, I really wanted to be crammed inside a tiny apartment and doing exactly what the couple on the movie just did—dancing with my guy and then having great sex.

  I sighed again.

  “Want to talk about it?” Alicia asked.

  I shrugged again. What was there to talk about? I had already told them everything. Even that in the last two days, Josh hadn’t come after me. He didn’t call me and he didn’t text. For all I knew, whatever we had was gone. And that thought, it hurt like nothing I had ever felt before.

  To be honest, I still thought we could fix whatever went wrong, but for now, I had to give him some time to calm down, to sort through the mess in his head, to fix things between him and his parents first—or at least try.

  How long would it take? I had no idea, and that scared me. For now, I was living one day at a time. One hour at a time. It was the only thing I could do.

  One of Sienna’s assistants came into the living room and halted beside the couch.

  Sienna sat up straighter. “Hey, Livia, what’s up?”

  “Mr. Michaels is here, miss.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “I wasn’t expecting him. Send him in.”

  Livia bowed her head and left the living room, headed into the foyer.

  “Who’s here?” I asked.

  Sienna turned a wicked grin to me. “You’ll see.”

  “Wait.” Alicia lifted a hand. “A guy is coming here? Now?” Sienna nodded. “And we’re like this?” She pointed to our robes and messy hair.

  “Oh, she’s got a point,” I said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I didn’t want any guy to see me like this, be it a homeless man who slept on a park bench, or the king of England.

  Scooting to the edge of the couch, Sienna waved us off. “It’s fine. Relax. He won’t care.”

  “But we will,” Alicia said.

  Just as Sienna stood, the mystery man joined us in the living room. Liam Michaels, lead singer and rhythmic guitar player of LACE, the hottest rock band in the world.

  Sienna talked about him a lot, since they had contracts with the same label and had several appointments together. In fact, there were rumors that the two of them were secretly dating. Which, according to my best friend, were fabricated lies for the sake of publicity. Their label asked them to be seen together here and there, giving the public and the paparazzi the impression that they were hiding a romance, when in fact they were good friends. I wondered, though, how Sienna could be friends with Liam Michaels. The guy was too handsome, too hot, too perfect. Usually, I didn’t think much of blonds, but Liam Michaels was the exception. Tall, with broad shoulders, tanned skin, short blond hair, and brilliant blue eyes, he was like a lost Hemsworth brother, but instead of being an actor, he had become a rock star.

  “Liam!” Sienna opened her arms wide.

  “Hey, babe,” Liam said, taking her in for an embrace. “Looking good.”

  She pushed him away and rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, right.”

  “I mean it.” He winked.

  “Okay, Casanova, drop the act,” Sienna said, turning to Alicia and me. “These are my friends, Rayna and Alicia. And they both know we have nothing going on.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Oh, okay, good.” He let out a long sigh. “It’s not hard to keep smiling and flirting with you, but I prefer when we can be ourselves.” I was still gaping at him when he waved at us. “Hi, girls. I’m Liam Michaels. Nice to meet you.”

  “Wow,” Alicia muttered.

  Sienna chuckled. “Sorry, Liam, Alicia is still new to all this.”

  He eyed Alicia then me. “And you aren’t?”

  I forced my face back to normal. “Well, it depends. I’ve known Sienna since we were little kids, but it’s not every day that I meet other famous singers.”

  “I’m only famous because of my band,” he said, sounding way more mature and grounded than I had expected.

  “Anyway,” Sienna said, smiling at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was writing songs at home when my manager mentioned you were in New York too, and that it would be good for us to be seen together, so I decided to come over. Even if you weren’t home, someone was bound to see me entering your building.”

  Sienna crossed her arms. “Yeah, I guess that counts.”

  “Well, I was seen, and tomorrow our faces will be stamped on some tabloid somewhere, so I’m gonna go back home now.”

  “All right.” Sienna pointed to the archway leading to the foyer. “Let me walk you out.”

  They both disappeared into the hallway, talking about writing songs—Sienna had mentioned once or twice that their label had been asking them to collaborate on something. While they were gone, Alicia crawled over me, her eyes still wide and her mouth hanging open.

  I laughed. “I want to take a picture of your
face so you can see how crazy you look.”

  She slapped my arm as she settled down right beside me. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God! I just met Liam Michaels! That is … that’s crazy! Oh my God.”

  I knew the feeling. In the beginning, when Sienna’s had just started, she would take me with her to events, and I bet I spent ninety percent of the time with that face and muttering, “Oh my God,” every time we were introduced to all the famous people around us.

  Though, to be fair, there were still times when my core was rocked—like meeting Liam Michaels. It was like meeting Chris Evans or Chris Pine or Chris Hemsworth or Chris Pratt, or any other famous hot blond. I suddenly wondered why so many of them were named Chris.

  “You should have asked to take a picture with him,” I teased.

  Alicia went still. “Oh my God! I could have! I’m so stupid!”

  “Why are you stupid?” Sienna asked, entering the living room.

  She threw herself on the couch and snuggled close to us. If Livia came in right now, she would think we were all into each other, because the three of us were currently occupying only on third of the huge couch.

  “I’m stupid because,” Alicia started, her tone a little exasperated, “because I should have asked to take a picture with Liam.”

  “Oh.” Sienna smiled at her. “I can arrange that.”

  Alicia’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

  “It won’t be the last time I see him, silly,” Sienna said. “I can certainly arrange for you to accidentally meet him again.”

  “You would do that?”

  Sienna shrugged. “Why not?”

  Alicia let out a squeal. “Oh my God, thank you!”

  I chuckled. “I better be there too because I don’t want to miss the show.”

  Sienna winked at me. “Deal.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Josh

  Things had gone from bad to worse.

  I did absolutely nothing Sunday and Monday. I should have gone after Rayna, tried to undo the damaged I’d done, and spent some quality time with her. Instead, I wallowed in my anger and frustration, staring at the walls and contemplating breaking a chair or a side table.