‘I suspect Becca meant do not contact her using any form of communication in the known universe.’
Lucas gave him a contented look feeling much better about himself and the world at large.
It always helped to have a plan.
‘She has not yet met Margo.’
Tobin gave that statement some hazy thought before he clinked his bottle with Lucas’s.
‘True, very true. Here’s to Becca and heaven help her.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘For the love of God, Becca. Concentrate!’
The horrible hollow feeling in Becca’s belly wound even tighter and brought her out in a cold sweat. Justin’s handsome face was flushed with annoyance.
When he was in one of his moods he could be difficult.
She swallowed, bent from the hips and placed her palms flat on the floor.
The transition in this dance was a complicated one and today it appeared her brain was refusing to co-operate with her body.
A body that was supple, toned and flexible. It was also relentlessly trained, obedient and resilient with an endurance that would put a Special Forces commando to shame.
And it had never let her down, except once. But she’d bounced back, stronger, harder and tougher.
Over the years of learning her craft she’d dealt with the misery of rejection by a relentless work ethic to improve.
She wasn’t afraid of long hours or paying her dues.
If some said she got to where she was because of her mother, she’d pushed herself even harder to prove them wrong. Fame was a burden for the children of the famous; constantly being judged, analysed and compared, made true success harder to attain.
Life was not fair.
Becca understood that particular rule. She had the battle scars, emotional and physical to prove it.
Dance was her life – it enriched her body and her mind. And if her heart was dead what did it matter? What use was an organ that caused nothing but destruction, pain and grief?
Instead of professional ballet she’d veered down a different path with Justin, rejecting performing, embracing the craft that fed her soul – choreography.
No one compared her to her mother in this niche. Here she’d found her wings, flying fast and high. Until tragedy had struck. Now she was back.
None could touch them as a team. Sure, working with Justin had more than its fair share of challenges but she was a part of the best and that was all that mattered.
The key was to never stop learning. She still took regular class; ballet, jazz, tap, modern dance and improvisation and she studied with the best, the most demanding.
She cared for nothing except the music playing in her head. The challenge was to deliver something that couldn’t be done and excel.
The downside was when a composer did minor surgery or took a hatchet to the work when you least expected it.
Musical film director, Burt Lindstrom, was a bugger for that. But it was hard to stay frustrated with his constant tinkering of the work when he created beautiful music and if it meant twenty-hour days, well that was just too bad.
But she loved it. The aches, the pains, the horrible callused feet and the smell of sweat, she loved every single part of the experience.
Mirrors were an intrinsic part of her life since she spent up to twelve hours a day assessing, adjusting each pose, angle, rabidly searching for every flaw. She was unflinching in her awareness of what worked with her lean frame and what didn’t.
Justin had returned from weeks in the United States dealing with protracted contract negotiations with the producers of Burt’s new movie and he was like a big angry bear. He’d been behaving badly for months. His bullying tendencies coming to the fore when she’d been at a low ebb and hadn’t the strength or the energy to argue. But these days he was getting on her nerves, testing her increasingly fragile temper. His mood swings were giving her whiplash.
And today nothing was going right. Highs and lows were a key part of the creative process and that forcing it never worked. A permanent low-grade headache wasn’t helping either.
Justin huffed out a sigh and turned off the music.
Becca grimaced and eyed him warily.
‘Sorry. I can’t get my head around the timing.’
Collapsing in a corner of the dance studio she wiped sweat from her forehead with a towel. Her leotard the colour of lilacs in full bloom was soaked. Perspiration trickled between her breasts and she ran the towel along the back of her neck.
Justin flopped down beside her, flexing a long muscular leg as strong fingers massaged his knee.
His hazel eyes focused on her face, filled now with a hint of concern as well as that look of permanent irritation.
‘What’s the matter with you, sweetie? You’ve been off for days. If I didn’t know better I would say it was a man.’
He handed her a bottle of water.
Justin never missed a trick.
They’d been a team since graduating with honours from the Royal Ballet. An unexpected opportunity in the early days to assist a top choreographer with a West End show meant they’d managed the impossible and segued into mainstream. They’d worked with focused dedication to attain the reputation they now enjoyed. Both twenty-eight, they were regarded as the industry’s hottest young team. At the moment they were working on a complex number for Burt.
‘You wish.’ She unscrewed the cap.
‘If I was straight, I’d snap you up in a heart beat.’ It was an old joke usually guaranteed to make her smile.
‘Wouldn’t happen,’ she told him playing along and took a sip.
His offended look made her smile as it was supposed to.
He flexed impressive upper body strength. ‘I’m a manly man.’
She merely snorted, elbowed him in the ribs. ‘You’re a pretty boy.’
He frowned, studied her face and caught her eye. ‘What’s the matter?’
Overprotective and temperamental, Justin could be a drama queen and a pain in the backside but he was a friend and she’d be forever grateful to him for helping her pick up the pieces of her fractured world.
However, he was also a rabid gossip and there was no way she would ever discuss her sex life with him or with anyone else. The dance world was a small one and she had a reputation to maintain. If certain individuals, men, got wind she’d had a quick fling with Lucas Del Garda her life wouldn’t be worth living.
Lucas had done precisely as she’d asked. He hadn’t called her or visited her home or the studio. Her emotions swung between missing him desperately and being convinced she’d done the right thing. How many times had she wondered if she’d overreacted? And how many nights had she struggled to find peace and sleep? Her body tortured her. It ached, pining for him, dreaming of his touch, his smell, the sound of his deep gravelly voice and the look in those dark eyes for her.
However, Lucas had taken it into his head to send her a Blackberry of all things. The relief he wasn’t out of her life completely fought with the fact that he’d refused to listen to her regarding her cell phone. He had no idea who he was dealing with. Her technological deficientness had made her a legend in her own time.
Becca ran the cool bottle of water over her throbbing head and wondered why the hell she’d agreed to meet someone called Margo. Lucas had given the woman her cell number and she’d called her incessantly, leaving messages and texts until Becca had given in. Lucas’s PA was a force of nature and didn’t understand the word no. For weeks, no matter how many times Becca sent the Blackberry back, the thing was like a boomerang, it kept returning.
She had no idea how to use the device and she didn’t want to know either. Margo totally understood where she was coming from, she said, and only wanted to run through it with her. Apparently Lucas was making her life hell and would Becca please give her a break? After four weeks, their little chats had become a highlight of Becca’s day. The woman was funny and real and definitely had Lucas’s number.
Becca had agreed to meet her fo
r a coffee today after she’d finished work. Now she wondered how she’d come to agree to such a scheme? And it didn’t stop her from speculating yet again if she was doing the right thing by accepting Lucas’s gift. But she missed him so damned much!
She swallowed a gulp of water and shook her head as Justin gave her an elbow nudge and asked her again what was the matter?
‘Nothing. I’m fine, really.’
He rose, hauling her to her feet and tossed her sweats before tugging on his own.
Surprised, Becca stretched to ease out her aching shoulders.
‘What are you doing? We’re not finished.’
Justin mumbled under his black sweatshirt, pulling it over his blonde head of shaggy hair.
‘We are for today. We’ve been invited to the Blue Lagoon tonight and you’re my partner.’
Becca swallowed a groan as she pulled on thick leggings. The headache from hell pulsed relentlessly in her temple. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with something nasty. Since the night she’d met Lucas she’d managed to avoid the exclusive private club.
Justin usually cruised the West End with his current squeeze.
‘What’s wrong with Ben?’
‘He’s met the love of his life.’ Justin’s smile was forced and her soft heart went out to him. His constant quest for true love was, in the words of Star Trek, ‘to boldly go where no man had gone before.’
Becca’s fingers toyed with his blonde-tipped hair and then she pressed her lips to his lean cheek.
He sent her a sad smile and said in a pathetic voice, ‘There’s a crowd of us going. Come with me, sweetie. Have some fun for once. Let your hair down.’
She wondered how he’d react if he knew she’d let more than her hair down recently. For all his talk about her finding a man, Justin wouldn’t be pleased. He’d become controlling and more possessive as time had passed and she knew they were headed for a reckoning. As ever, she ignored her instincts where he was concerned and went for a quiet life determined to maintain the status quo.
Wrapping a black cashmere scarf around her neck, Becca released her hair rubbing her scalp.
Those big smacked-puppy-dog eyes met hers and she gave into him.
‘Okay, but I’m not staying long.’
‘Thanks, darling. I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty sharp. Put on that sexy red dress and your dancing shoes.’
She was early.
Becca sat in the pretty coffee shop sipping a skinny latte, nibbling a protein bar and still feeling fragile, not her usual one hundred per cent self.
A lovely well-dressed woman in her late thirties wearing a sharp business suit in black entered. She also wore the most fabulous pointy toed black patent boots with killer heels that Becca had ever seen and she decided then and there she wanted a pair.
Intelligent eyes scanned the room until they landed on Becca. She beamed a white smile and made straight for her table. Becca stood and couldn’t help but return that smile. Vivid grey eyes danced mischievously into hers, brimming with a wicked humour.
The woman plonked a fabulous big handbag that matched her boots onto an empty chair and grabbed Becca’s hand in both of hers.
‘Becca! I’m Margo, your nemesis! I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally meet you.’ She squeezed Becca’s fingers and openly studied her from head to toe with a critical eye. ‘Why, you’re absolutely gorgeous! No wonder you’ve got my boss dribbling in his coffee.’
The picture she put in Becca’s head made her laugh as they both sat.
‘I hope not.’
Margo sat as a waiter materialised and she ordered whatever Becca was having. As the waiter took her order, Becca took the time to observe Lucas’s PA. Her black hair was cut in a pixie style that suited her sharp features. Margo shoved a wisp of hair behind her ear and Becca caught the glitter of a stunning engagement and wedding ring.
Margo spotted her glance and grinned. ‘I am a happily married woman with three children.’
Ruthlessly Becca ignored a sharp pang of envy. ‘Three?’
‘I have plenty of help and Jeff works from home. He’s a writer.’
‘How old are they?’
The waiter placed Margo’s coffee in front of her and she thanked him before continuing, ‘Two boys, six and four. Rachel is almost a year and a handful.’
An ache in Becca’s heart that had never quite gone away made its presence felt as Margo stirred her coffee.
‘You’re very lucky. How do you balance working for Lucas with a family? I should imagine he’s pretty demanding.’
Margo grinned. ‘He’s a big pussycat. I work from home when he’s travelling. I’m on call almost twenty-four seven. But I love it. I’d never work for anyone else.’
This was the third person she’d met who worked for Lucas, including Moira and his driver and all his staff appeared to have a deep affection for him as well as respect.
‘How long have you been with him?’
‘Eight years, almost from the beginning.’
So Margo would have seen Lucas’s revolving bedroom door.
Lucas’s PA watched her blush with interest.
‘You’re the first girlfriend that I’ve met one on one, Becca. Can I speak freely?’
Becca was certain there was nothing she could do to stop her, but nodded anyway.
‘Sure. But I wouldn’t say I qualify as a girlfriend.’
Margo sipped her coffee apparently deep in thought before her eyes met Becca’s.
‘He’d never expect sympathy because he can give as good as he gets, but Lucas is given a hard time from a couple of witches in the tabloid press. Don’t believe everything you read. This is the first time he’s ever asked for my help. And you’re right you don’t qualify as a girlfriend.’
Even though she’d said as much herself the tone made Becca blink. Well, that certainly put her in her place didn’t it?
Margo shook her head spookily reading her mind.
‘You’re more than that. I’m not here to get into the middle of what’s happening between you. He said he’s promised to give you space and time. But he’s distracted and that affects his business and his temper. I won’t lie to you, Becca, I’m worried. He’s hurting. All he needs is for you to email him and let him know you’re okay.
‘He thinks he’s hurt you. All I’m asking is that you give him a chance. Lucas Del Garda can be a wonderful friend.’
Becca hated to think of him hurting and that she’d caused it. Lucas wanted to be her friend? She swallowed a solid lump of disappointment, was that all? Wasn’t that enough? She’d told him to leave her alone and he’d done as she asked. The man couldn’t win.
‘No, he didn’t hurt me. Things are... complicated. I don’t want a relationship and Lucas has taken it personally.’
Margo sent her a quizzical look. ‘Career girl?’
Becca shrugged.
‘Amongst other things. I don’t believe everything I read in the press. But you must admit he’s been busy.’
Margo nodded. ‘It certainly looks like it if you believe the half of it. But it’s part of the package in public relations for him to attend parties and functions and openings. The reason you never see him with the same woman twice is because they’re clients or arm candy and he never mixes business and pleasure. Tobin in the United States is just the same. They let their hair down when they get together, but they’re the good guys, Becca. And there aren’t many of them around these days.’
That was very true. ‘I know.’
Margo stirred her latte studying her with a little frown. ‘You’re a dancer?’
There was no point in lying and the time for subterfuge was over.
‘I’m a choreographer and I’d rather you didn’t tell Lucas.’
Margo’s penetrating eyes went cool now.
‘Okay. Care to tell me why?’ Her voice was sharp and Becca realised that under the friendly exterior lurked a Rottweiler who was fiercely protective of her boss.
‘I don
’t want my work affected by my friendship with Lucas. I’d rather keep it quiet.’
‘What makes you think it would be affected in a negative way?’
‘People in the theatre crave publicity. I’m not one of them. At the moment certain individuals, men, leave me well alone. However, as soon as they get wind I’m dating again my life is going to become difficult. And my partner will definitely not like it.’
‘Partner?’
‘Dance partner, he’s temperamental and very hard work at the moment.’
Shaking her head, Margo sat back in the chair and simply stared at her.
‘Well, hell, Becca. You must the first woman I’ve met in the business that doesn’t want to be seen with Lucas. No wonder the man is confused.’
Becca stirred her coffee wondering what on earth she was doing opening herself up to a total stranger in this way.
‘I’m in this for the craft not the notoriety.’
A shrewd look entered Margo’s grey eyes.
She leaned forward, gave Becca big eyes and rested her chin on her hand.
‘Are you famous?’
Becca couldn’t help but grin. ‘I’m well known in my field, yes.’
Margo placed both elbows on the table and leaned forward.
‘But you never attend openings, award ceremonies or parties?’
Becca gave a heartfelt shudder. ‘Never.’
The light of fun was back in Margo’s eyes and Becca felt absurdly relieved.
‘I knew I liked you. How did you meet Lucas?’
Feeling at ease and liking the woman more and more, Becca was happy to tell her.
‘We met in The Blue Lagoon. Our eyes met and that was it.’
Margo’s face told her she suspected there was a bit more to the story, but she nodded.
‘I’ve heard it’s the place to be.’
‘I’m being dragged along there tonight. A crowd of us are going.’
Her tone had Margo look at her critically. ‘Not looking forward to it?’
‘Not really, I’d rather be tucked up in bed with a cup of cocoa.’
Margo took the comment at face value and wiggled her fingers.
‘Right, where’s the Blackberry from hell?’
A Stormy Spring Page 7