Love's Last Chance

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Love's Last Chance Page 16

by Jean C. Joachim


  “I didn’t hire someone else. I hired you. By the way, where’s the signed contract. I need that before we meet with the director.”

  “You didn’t hire me.”

  “Of course I did. Stop joking. This isn’t funny.”

  Dorrie pushed to her feet. “I’m not joking! I don’t have a contract.”

  “Didn’t Amy give it to you?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m going to kill that young woman before the day is out.”

  He looked around and called her name, but no response. “Probably hiding in the ladies room.”

  “Gunther, you can’t go in there.”

  “Oh? Just watch me.” He strode over to the restroom and yanked open the door. Sticking his head in, he hollered the young woman’s name before backing out. In a few seconds, the chagrined Amy crept out of the bathroom to join Gunther.

  Dorrie could see he was lighting into the girl by the way she cowered and the red crept up Gunther’s neck. He never learns. That’s not the way to treat her.

  “What a monster,” Meg mumbled under her breath.

  “A powerful one though,” Chaz put in.

  “He’s not really a monster, just wants to appear to be one. He likes to intimidate people…to control them.”

  “Looks like it’s working with Amy,” Meg said.

  As the three watched, Amy reached into a briefcase, fumbled around a bit, and then withdrew a manila envelope. She trotted over to Dorrie. “A thousand pardons. I was supposed to deliver this two weeks ago, along with the check. I’m so sorry. I hope it didn’t destroy your life.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks, Amy. Better late than never.” Actually, it did destroy my life for a while. Kid, you need to pay attention. After Amy left, Dorrie peeked inside.

  “You guys don’t mind if I read this, do you?” Anticipation kicked up her pulse. This might be the window I need to a great career.

  “Open it!” Chaz exclaimed.

  Dorrie slid the flap up carefully then slipped out the contract, about twelve pages, typed, double-spaced. Her heart swelled as she held the sacred document. Her eyes perused it, skimming through the words, barely understanding it. She flipped through until she found the part about money. Her hand flew to cover her mouth. The figure was beyond what she expected. Way beyond. Bless you, Gunther. Now I can buy a new car. And get my own place. She smiled.

  “I take it the pay is good,” Chaz said.

  She nodded then looked up. Gunther was on his way back to them, waving a pen in his hand. When he stopped in front of Dorrie, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  He moved her back and chuckled. “Can’t have you driving that rust bucket. Gives the show a bad name.”

  “Thank you so much. I’m beyond excited!” She clapped her hands once.

  “So, let’s make it official,” he said, handing her his fountain pen.

  Dorrie shook her head. “Uh uh, no way. Not until my lawyer looks it over.” She tucked the contract back into the envelope then into her dance bag.

  “Don’t trust me?”

  She shook her head.

  “Smart girl.” He laughed and placed the pen in his breast pocket. “Amy will email you a schedule of meetings for next week. I assume you’re free?”

  “Of course.”

  “No man waiting in the wings to spirit you off to Bora Bora?”

  “Gunther…”

  “Good. Because I’m going to work your ass off. It’s a lovely ass, but it’s going to work like never before. This pilot has to be perfect. The reward will be had if the series is picked up.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “Damn straight you will. Or you’ll answer to me.” With that, Gunther Quill stalked off with Amy trailing a few feet behind, like a human dust cloud.

  “Wow! He’s some boss,” Megan said.

  “He’s tough, but he has high standards. Makes for better movies.”

  “Right.”

  “Are you starring in the pilot?” Dorrie turned to Chaz.

  “I am. Not sure if I want to do the series, if it gets picked up. But I’m going to give it a whirl.”

  “Great! One good dancer I can count on.”

  “How about a celebration tonight?”

  “Let’s meet the kids at Sal’s. They’re having a party there.”

  “Lead the way,” Chaz said, taking Megan’s hand.

  Chapter Twelve

  After celebrating at Sal’s, Dorrie staggered home at two o’clock. Chaz and Meg gave her a ride home in their limo because she was too drunk to drive. She took five minutes trying to fit the key in the lock, only to discover the door wasn’t locked.

  That sent her into a giggling fit so strong, she couldn’t stand. Sliding down the wall into a cross-legged position on the floor, she collapsed, laughing hysterically, waking up her roommates. They showed up, groggy and grumbling.

  They lifted her up and escorted her to bed, taking off her shoes and covering her with a blanket. In the morning, Dorrie didn’t remember a thing. One minute, she was drinking a toast to Gunther, and the next she awakened to find herself fully dressed and sprawled in her bed.

  She lay back, too hung over to get up, but reached for her dance bag. After unzipping it, she pulled out the manila envelope. “I wasn’t dreaming,” she muttered aloud.

  Fingering the high quality paper that carried her big chance written on it, her heart swelled. I’ve been waiting for this all my life. A break. A chance to do what I love.

  Her mind turned to her three men. What if one of them had said ‘yes, come back to New York and marry me,’ and I had agreed? Now, I’m free to take this offer and taste some success, even if the pilot doesn’t get picked up. My name will be out there with both the movie and the pilot. More work will come my way.

  Instantly, she understood what John Flanagan was trying to tell her. Shame flowed through her heart when she recalled the terrible way she’d treated him. He knew what was best for me before I did. I’m sorry, Johnny.

  Sitting up slowly, Dorrie bent her knees and touched her ankle. It was a little tender but not sore, which put a smile on her face. She headed for the bathroom, grabbing a cup of coffee on the way. After popping ibuprofen, she turned on the shower and stepped in. The cascading water eased her symptoms, making her feel better. She prepared a mental list of things to do.

  After signing the contract, I’m going new car shopping. Not second-hand car shopping. New car. Not the cheapest one, either. Something nice. The idea made her grin. As she scrubbed her body and washed her hair, a sense of well-being flowed through her veins. This was her reward for all the hard work and creativity she’d put into her job. She deserved to be hired for the pilot and the series, too.

  Dorrie shipped the contract by Fedex to Grant Hollings in New York. He was now her lawyer, recommended by her friend Grace Brewster. Grant, Grace’s brother-in-law, had done an excellent job on the movie contract. He said he’d make this one top priority.

  While she waited, she looked at larger apartments and test-drove new cars. The Mazda Miata was a sexy sports model she could now afford. On the phone, she took a survey of her friends about the color for the vehicle. As much as she liked a red one, it clashed with her auburn hair. In a fit of giggling, she and Gracie decided that “innocent blue” would be the best.

  “Your car will be the only innocent thing about you,” Grace joked.

  In three weeks, the contract was signed, and Dorrie had received her first check. Three meetings had been scheduled and postponed. After the high of being selected for the pilot was over, she became depressed. New clothes purchased for the first gathering, and even driving there in her new car, didn’t raise her spirits.

  Success isn’t the same without a special man to share it with. She missed her three guys. Gunther took her out to dinner to celebrate after their first session with the director. He had been excessively charming as he reiterated his proposition to her.

  “Don’t get a new ap
artment. Let me find you one,” he had purred. But she had resisted, though he was becoming more and more tempting as being alone grated on her.

  She had dated a Norwegian guy named Anders before she left to run the dance studio in New York for a few months. But he had gone back to Norway when his six months in L.A., working for his company, had finished. They had had fun. He was so different, funny, and sweet. But they both had known it wasn’t forever.

  Dorrie had had quite a few “not forever” boyfriends since she and Gunther had parted. She found herself interested in playing the field and not getting serious with anyone. She had been devastated by Gunther’s desertion. Flying solo suited her raw emotions and frayed nerves. No expectations means no disappointments. But that’s not enough anymore. I’m ready for more.

  Facing a rigorous work schedule that would demand long hours plus time to rest her ankle, she didn’t see many opportunities for meeting new men. Maybe on the set? Those relationships were potentially explosive. If we break up badly and have to work together? She shuddered at the thought.

  She considered Internet dating services, but more and more her thoughts turned to one man. One man in New York. One man who her ‘one more day’ with had proved to be the extra time she needed to surrender her heart. But now she was stuck.

  Maybe I should marry Gunther? But he’ll never be faithful. At least I won’t be alone. He says he loves me, but he’s so chilly, demanding…difficult. Can’t marry Gunther. Can’t shack up with him, either, can I?

  Several phone calls to Gracie didn’t help her decide what to do. Meg was equally unhelpful. But both women told her not to take up with Gunther in any way, shape, or form. She took their advice although she saw him at every meeting and he began to grow on her.

  Maybe we can become friends. Gunther always said there were no friends in this business. That movie business and friendship were opposites and anyone who said different was a liar. I believed him at the time, yet I feel like he is my friend. Though, I wouldn’t trust him too far. She laughed at her own notions and how Gunther would ridicule her for trusting even him.

  After two months of meetings, it was time to audition dancers. Gunther had had Amy set up the auditions, and she had botched the job. So Dorrie took over.

  “I’m going to fire that girl.”

  “Amy?”

  “She’s incompetent. Can’t do anything right.”

  “You scare her to death.”

  “So? I’m going to tell her I’m shopping for an assistant for her. Let her set up interviews, and when I hire someone, I’ll fire her. The new person can take her place. Clever, huh?”

  He turned to look at her.

  “Diabolical.”

  He chuckled. “You’re such a flatterer, Dorrie.”

  Auditions were planned for three weeks. On the first day, Dorrie stayed afterward to clean up and make notes. When she finished writing, she put Swan Lake in her CD player. Turning up the sound as she cleared props off the stage, the music moved her.

  After days and days of rest, her ankle was stronger. When the part for the dying swan came on, she was moved. Memories of dancing to this piece, her favorite in the whole ballet, returned. She had starred in Swan Lake in ballet school every two years since she was twelve. Classical training had suited Dorrie. She was built to be a dancer and had developed a love of classical music since the third grade, when she had gotten her first CD of famous ballet and symphony pieces for Christmas.

  Dorrie’s mother had been a pianist who had played in the orchestra in Baltimore when she had met Dorrie’s father. Evan Rodgers was a stockbroker who appreciated the finer things in life, like classical music and a stunning wife. He perished in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Dorrie’s mother remarried after three years and went to live in Europe with her new husband. They were killed in a boating accident. Dorrie had been devastated at the loss of both her parents so quickly in her young life.

  The familiar strains called to her body. Her muscles responded. She moved to the rhythm, striking familiar poses and executing jetés and pirouettes beautifully, for someone who had not done them for more than three years. Her body loosened up as she danced. Recognition of the dance mixed with sorrow at not being able to perform again created emotions that added grace and feeling to every movement.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a riffle of the curtain in the wings. A tall figure stood in the shadows, but she couldn’t quite make him out. He had disrupted her concentration, causing her to falter.

  “Gunther! Come out! I see you. You’ve wrecked my timing.”

  But the man did not move. She spun one more time before stopping, her fists firmly resting on her hips. “Get out here!” Her face clouded, her brow furrowed. As the gentleman walked onto the stage, the light revealed his identity. Dorrie’s mouth fell open as she stood in stunned silence. He waited several feet away for her to catch her breath.

  “Johnny?”

  * * * *

  He stepped out of the shadows. “Glad to see me?” He stood in front of her, wearing a navy blue suit and striped tie, looking more handsome than ever.

  “What are you doing here?” Her heartbeat climbed, almost beating out of her chest.

  “Nice greeting.” He shook his head as he moved closer. He took Dorrie in his arms and kissed her long and hard. She melted. He raised his head. “Happy to see me?”

  “Happy? Beyond happy.” Tears formed in the corner of her eyes.

  “Don’t cry, baby. I’m here for you.”

  “Me?” Hope entered her heart.

  “Damn, woman, you can be so dense. I’ve moved here, to be with you.”

  “Don’t kid with me.” She shook her head slightly.

  “It’s true.” His hands held her waist.

  “But what about that new expansion…”

  “It’s here.” He grinned.

  “Here?” Adrenaline flowed in her veins.

  He nodded. “Pretty cool. Some surprise, eh?”

  “You moved here to be with me?” She desperately wanted to believe him, but fear of disappointment made her hang back.

  “We belong together, Dorrie. You and me. It’s always been true. I was too stupid to see it until you came back.”

  “Oh, Johnny,” she breathed, raising her lips to his. He took her mouth in a hungry kiss, his strong arms holding her so close there wasn’t a whisper of air between them. She matched his heat, digging her fingers down through the fabric of his suit jacket into his muscles, pressing her breasts to his chest. Maybe if I don’t let go, it’ll never end.

  Finally, he came up to catch his breath. “My God, you’re better than ever,” he said, combing his fingers through her hair.

  “Yes, she is. And she’s all mine.” Gunther stepped out onto the stage.

  “Who’s this?” Johnny whispered to Dorrie.

  “Gunther, stop. Go away.”

  “I’ve already claimed her, so you can shuffle along home.” Gunther made a shooing gesture with his hand. Johnny’s eyes darkened.

  “The lady doesn’t seem to agree.” John put his arm around her shoulders.

  “She hasn’t relented yet. But she will.”

  “Gunther, please. You’re my friend. Nothing more. Accept it, okay?”

  “It’s not okay. Gunther Quill never loses.”

  “Except this time, fella. Shove off. The lady and I have some major catching up to do.”

  Gunther approached Johnny in an intimidating manner, but John stood his ground. He moved away from Dorrie and squared off against Gunther. They were practically nose-to-nose when Dorrie stepped in. She pushed them apart and took Gunther aside. “Can we discuss this later?”

  “If you wish,” he said, backing up. “I’ll be back. Make no mistake,” he said to Johnny.

  “Any time, buddy, any time.” John took a boxing stance, raised his chin a bit, his eyes dark pools of angry fire. Gunther slipped into the wings and disappeared.

  “Tell me…tell me everything.” Dorrie tur
ned hopeful eyes to him.

  “Let’s get out of here. Place gives me the creeps. And so does that Dracula guy. Geez, ya don’t even hear him coming.”

  “His expensive, Italian shoes.”

  “Creepy. Who is he?”

  “My ex and the producer I’m working with.”

  “That’s too bad. He’ll have to learn to keep his distance from you. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved.”

  He opened the door for her to his brand new car. Then got in on the driver’s side. He turned to her as he pushed a button to start.

  “This is solar-powered, it’s what we make. The solar battery, that is. My brother invented it. I’m here to expand sales to the West Coast and Asia.”

  “How’d you manage that?”

  “I’m the star salesman and the inventor’s brother.” He grinned at her. “How could they turn me down?”

  Dorrie ran her hand over the dash. Is the engine even on? I don’t hear a thing.

  “If you’re listening for the engine, forget it. The battery is as quiet as a mouse. Can’t even tell it’s on unless you look at this.” He pointed to a gauge.

  “This is brilliant.”

  “Yeah, my brother’s an engineering genius.”

  “This is going to make you a mint.”

  “I hope so. I’m doing well now. But more to the point…I want my brother to get the recognition he deserves.”

  “He hasn’t?”

  “A lot of people laughed at him when he was starting out. They’re not laughing now.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a cozy little restaurant called Whispers. It’s near the house I’m renting.”

  “How convenient,” she snickered. “You’re already in a house?”

  “I’ve been here for a month. Wanted to get everything set up before I approached you.”

  “How did you know I wasn’t going back to one of the other guys?”

  “Chrissy is a font of information.”

  “You did your homework.”

  “I’m a thorough kind of guy.” He grinned at her as he pulled into the driveway. A young man stepped forward to take the car keys. Johnny explained to the valet that there were no keys and how to start the car.

 

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