Dance For Me

by Alice Dee

  “There is no baby!” She put her hands over her face and let her body fall onto the bed.

  “What do you mean there’s no baby? Tris? What does that mean?”

  “I lost it in Californa!”

  Her words were like bits of rock candy he was trying to piece together to see the picture.

  “I lost it, I miscarried.”

  “What are you talking about? You were what, four, four and a half months? What happened?!”

  Tristan sobbed.

  “What do you think happened?! I’ve been through hell Dominic! You put me through hell!” She looked down at the floor and let the tears flow.

  “I don’t understand. What happened, what caused it?”

  “Stress,” she mumbled after a moment. “My body was too weak.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  She shook her head.

  “I was all the way in California. It was the weekend of your fight.”

  He felt like he was officially an asshole. He sat down on the edge of her bed still trying to process it.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. “I would’ve gone. I would’ve been there.”

  “She was there, wasn’t she?” she tilted her head.

  He uncovered his face and stood on his feet and paced around her room with his fingers laced behind his head.

  “I didn’t think you’d care,” she sobbed. “Four and a half months.” She looked at him through the water in her eyes. “He was a boy,” she said through wet lips.

  He felt nauseous. This was fucking horrible.

  “Of course I care. I care,” he insisted. He felt guilt and regret for not being around more. He sat down next to Tristan and took her hand in his.

  “I’m sorry.” He put his arm around her and kissed her head. “I should’ve been here. We’ll get through this together okay? I promise you, we’ll get through this.”

  Tristan cuddled up to him. She had forgotten what it was like to be in his arms and right now, it felt new all over again.

  39... Slamming brakes

  Hope was surprised but delighted when Dominic walked into the dressing room. He stepped back when he saw the half- naked girls in there and motioned to her with his finger, calling her out in the hall. She grabbed her satin wrap and stepped out in the dark hall.

  “What are you doing here?” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cut lips. He hugged her back and then loosely wrapped his arms around her waist. She kissed him again.

  “What’s up?” she looked behind her to make sure Hammer wasn’t around. The dressing room door opened and closed, casting light on them for a second or two.

  “Wanted to see you,” he said with his eyes averted.

  “Awww…” on the tips of her toes she kissed his face and all of his bruises, as he ran his hands up under her robe. He squeezed her ass in both hands, heart racing.

  ‘Say goodbye to this ass’, a voice in his head taunted.

  “Mmmm,” she groaned in his ear when he squeezed her ass harder. He felt himself getting hard but

  FUCK. He thought of Tristan and took in a thick lungful of air. Double FUCK.

  She pulled him close again. She noticed he was limp and when she pressed her mouth to his, he didn’t kiss her back. Opening her eyes she backed off immediately and stared into his face.

  “What’s wrong?” She wrapped herself tighter in her silky wrap and crossed her arms.

  “We can’t do this anymore.”

  They were the words she dreaded. Her confidence, her hopes, everything just dwindled away like the last grains of sand in the hour glass. Gone. She felt herself break inside, her chest thick with pressure. She silently prayed he would tell her it was all joke, smile and swoop her off her feet. When that didn’t appear to be happening, she prayed this was just a bad dream.

  He looked everywhere but her. The dressing room door opened again and the light split his bruised face in two; one side was darkened, the other orange, reflecting in his clear eye.

  “Tristan lost the baby,” he said.

  Hope swallowed the thick saliva in her throat, knowing now for sure this was no joke.

  “I should be there for her. It’s the least I can do, you know?”

  “You should,” she agreed. “Totally.”

  “I’m really sorry it has to be like this. And I’m sorry about everything else, really.”

  “Yeah you know what? Don’t apologize. No, don’t, please don’t apologize Dominic.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “You should do that. I am sorry for your loss.”

  He was amazed at how well she was handling this.

  “I have to go,” she said apologetically, though she wasn’t sure why. “I wish you the best.”

  Hope let go of his hand and vanished out of his sight. Through the half opened door, he saw her put on her poker face and drop her wrap to her feet. Other girls floated passed her but again, he only saw her. Shamayla came up in black nylon stockings and blocks for heels. She unrolled the rollers in Hope’s hair while Hope stepped into her number that oozed sex appeal. One of the girls cracked a dirty joke and Hope laughed, her eyes barely watering at the stinging from within. She’d gone through this before and she would live. She knew that and would have to hold on to it until the pain of rejection would evaporate.

  Dominic figured she would be okay; she seemed to be getting along fine. Besides, he didn’t think something this good could ever last. He turned away from the dancer that he’d lusted over and grew fond of. He misconstrued her laugh with indifference when in reality that star was dying.

  One week and a half later…

  Shamayla’s hair was wrapped up on her head in a half-assed up do. She was wearing blue jeans for a change and shirt that draped off one shoulder. She sipped from a wine glass and labeled a box with her fat red marker. Hope came up behind her in a leotard and jeans. “That’s everything,” Hope said, glancing at the stack of ruined paintings in a corner. She looked all over the apartment that was now bare except for the defaced refrigerator in the kitchen, and the boxes in the living room.

  “I’ll take these ones,” Shamayla offered, swinging the door open with her feet. She headed down the stairs and stopped suddenly when she saw Dominic coming up them.

  “Oh, hey,” she said, looking at him oddly.

  “Hey Shamayla.” He took his sunglasses off of his face and looked at the boxes she was carrying.

  “She’s moving?” He pointed to the moving truck downstairs. “That’s yours, hers?”

  The door squeaked open and there stood Hope, looking down at Dominic. She had hoped she wouldn’t see him. She wanted to make a clean break. He moved passed Shamayla and slowly walked to Hope.

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I found something better.”

  “Is it because of me?” He walked into her apartment and looked around. “Everything’s gone.”

  “It has nothing to do with you,” she assured him, noticing his faded bruises that looked like mustard and grape stains. His eyes were still blackened near the sides of his nose, but he was looking better.

  “Then why?”

  “I found a bigger apartment closer to my job.”

  When he looked at her she didn’t like what the look conveyed so she looked away. A couple nights before she’d heard him and Tristan going at it on the other side of her living room wall. She could hear Tristan only, unnecessarily moaning and groaning and screaming his name. Still, it killed her to hear that, to know what they were doing. She hated herself for crawling into bed and crying.

  “I’ll miss you. I already do-“

  The door opened and Shamayla walked in.

  “Um, we’re ready to go.” She avoided eye contact with Hope. “Yeah, I’ll just take these down there.” She scooped up two boxes and headed out.

  “Do you need any help?”

  “Um, I think I got everything.”

  “Okay.” He came up to her and wrapped his arms around her. Though it f
elt sooo good she tensed up and refused to hug him back. She had to harden herself; it was a must. Once she shut down that was it; her emotions were crystalized. There was really nothing to it at all. She robotically, gently pushed him away and scooped up the last box. She walked away and didn’t look back.

  40... Back to normal?

  Charla was right, as usual. Roping him in with a guilt trip like this was THE surefire way to get Dominic back. Tristan wondered if he loved her still. She wondered if he loved Hope, if he had said it to her yet. Ever since she got with Dominic she felt secure, like as long as the sex was good he wouldn’t stray. And she truly believed she was the best he ever had and ever would have. Why he was into Hope was beyond her understanding. To Tristan, Hope looked prudish and squeamish-the type to be put off by sex. When Tristan thought of Hope in that purple dress, she changed her mind. Hope was the kind of girl that sucked a basket of dicks on occasion.

  Tristan often got jealous of other girls although she didn’t think Dominic was cheating on her. She accused him only occasionally, usually during a random fit. After this latest development, Hope had become her nemesis and this was all out war. She never felt this threatened or genuinely suspect of Dominic till Hope forced herself into the picture.

  With her indispensable advisor/right hand woman Charla by her side, this was going smoothly. Dominic didn’t say they were getting back together but he started showing up more and more. He was doing total bitch things like bringing her ice cream and movies. He hadn’t done this stuff since back when he was trying to date her. Now the more time he spent with her, obviously the less time he spent with Hope. Tristan wasn’t sure if Dominic was still sleeping with his “hooker girlfriend” but she didn’t want to run before she walked with this. She knew she couldn’t be too clingy or quizzical. She would have to be patient and see where it would go.

  Dominic went over to Tristan’s house to spend time with her. He blamed himself for Tristan losing the baby and wanted to somehow make up for it. He knew he couldn’t make up for the loss of an unborn baby, or the fact he neglected her, but he would at least try. He’d always been somewhat sensitive to needs of a woman because of his mom and everything she’d gone through. Despite his desire to be with Hope, he had to kick her to the curb…at least for now.

  He took a trip into his mind, back to the past when they had first met. He tried to think about everything that made him lust after Tristan, that made him enjoy her time and attention. What was it that made him laugh, that made him smile and tell her he loved her? He thought of their fights and the heat that followed every time. He could remember this excitement but he couldn’t exactly get it back. Nevertheless, he only wanted to do right by her.

  Hope spent her first night in the apartment alone. She left her refrigerator at the old place so until she’d get a new one, she’d have to order out. She ordered Chinese and ate dinner, had some wine in the living room. She was so bummed she didn’t want company. She found it difficult to eat and only did so because she had to. Dominic wasn’t in her life anymore and she hadn’t yet recovered from the burn he left. So soon she was back to her lonely life. Now she was living in a community of strangers and she hadn’t felt more alone in a long time.

  She thought of Shamayla and this building suspicion that she was into drugs. What worried her even more were the rumors floating around work that Hammer was pimping out some of the dancers to customers that wanted more than just a show. If it was true, she hoped Shamayla wasn’t amongst those dancers. Lately Shamayla had been talking crazy and acting strangely too. Last she heard of Zefar, he was arrested and jailed indefinitely, just outside of Vegas.

  Tristan broke down crying while talking to Dominic. He still seemed distant, even when he was sitting next to her. Feeling particularly lonely, she called him to see what he was doing. He didn’t answer but returned her call, telling her he was on his way home from training. He claimed to be doing lots of that lately… Not sure if he was lying or not, she started sobbing on the phone. Guilt struck down on him like lightening. He felt horrible, like it was his fault. He drove straight to her place.

  Tristan looked outside her bedroom window as Dominic made his way up the walkway to her front door. Tristan saw a black car pull up against the curb a few houses away. Dominic walked into her room. She turned from the window, naked faced and red eyed. His insides softened and he took her in his arms.

  Hope restlessly tossed in bed. She was starting to hate her nights off. Though she didn’t like clubs, she would rather be encased by blasting music and crazy lights than here in the dark, with nothing to do but float in her own misery.

  Tristan moved her head, slowly lifted her chin and pressed her lips to Dominic’s. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her at the moment but he didn’t have time to think. She was unzipping his pants.

  Hope rolled over on her back, staring vacantly into the lumpy ceiling, wondering what he was doing at that very moment.

  41... Birthday suprises

  Since Hope was now making a little more money, she had extra cash to burn. Shamayla was taking her out to celebrate her thirtieth birthday, so Hope went out to have her hair combed in a classy up do and had her makeup done. She went to the mall with Glenna and found a white strapless dress that hugged her body in thick snuggery. It made her natural tan skin look amazing; the dress glowed on her, her skin glowed in it…it was perfect. She found the perfect golden Kenneth Coles that had cubic zirconia sparkling rainbows every time light reflected on them.

  She went home, showered her body and lathered on tropical body butter. She wore her gold necklace with the tiny cross and studs in her ears, worrying her gold loops would make her look too slutty. She dressed and strapped on her shoes, went to the kitchen and hovered over the sink, eating a turkey sub stuffed with tomato, avocado, onion rings and pepper jack cheese. The sandwich was fat and messy, worth the ridiculous price. She licked her lips after every bite, crumpled the paper wrap and tossed it in the trash.

  Shamayla knocked on her door, her hair neatly combed up.

  “Wassup, ready?”

  “Yep.” Hope reached for her clutch and followed Shamayla to Justin’s car. The girls headed out as the sun set, ready to do Vegas.

  The day died and night came to life, flooding into every street. They went to White Sands which was a city hotspot, usually hard to get into. Not only did Justin have connections, but the girls did as well. They had their own cabana poolside and for once, were catered to. Hope had and halfway through her drink Marisol and Mercedes showed up. Hope was sure Shamayla claimed to hate Mercedes at one time but it wasn’t looking that way these days. Hope casually asked Shamayla what was up with that.

  “I’m kinda staying at her place, till I get my things together,” she quickly added.

  Hope shrugged it off and sat down, eyeing the practically naked bodies all over the place. There were girls with thong bikinis and even some guys in speedos. Hope cringed and put her straw between her lips, saw Shane and some guy she’d never seen before coming toward them.

  “What are you doing here?” Hope asked with a smile.

  “Come on, would I miss your birthday?” He handed her a gift bag.

  “You didn’t…”

  “But I did.”

  He sat down next to her.

  “You look good.” He leaned in and sniffed. “You smell good too. Is that passion fruit?”

  “What you know about passion fruit?” Hope reached in the bag.

  “All right, I’m going to go stand over there.”

  “Why?”

  “I get shy when people open my gifts in front of me.”

  She quickly whipped out whatever it was in the bag. “It’s heavy…” It was wrapped in tissue paper with little glitter squares on it. Her mouth dropped a bit.

  “Who told you?”

  Shane eased back to his seat next to her.

  “Your girl Shamayla. I asked her what kind of things you like, what you’re into.”

  Hope held u
p the water globe. The opaque glitter shimmered in pearly pink and purple as it rained down in the water. In the center, a ballerina.

  “Looks like you,” he said with a sexy smile.

  “It’s very pretty.” She wrapped an arm around his neck and hugged him, her chest pressed to his. She smelled his cologne and as she inched away, her smooth face brushed the roughness of his. “Thank you, Shane.”

  “You’re welcome.” They locked eyes and then he got up suddenly. “Drinks… you good?”

  “I’m good,” she said, holding up hers.

  Marisol, a ponytail long and curled midway down her back, licked her red lips and watched Shane and Justin walk to the bar. She casually stuck her hand down her shirt and lifted her left boob higher inside her bra, then did the same with the right one. She pulled down her unbuttoned, tight blouse a bit and held her shoulders back. When Shane and Justin got back, she was staring right at Shane, darkened brows, tip of tongue against the roof of her mouth. He did a double take when he thought he saw her staring. She was giving him the eye he realized, and wasn’t being subtle about it. He smiled back and took a shot of tequila.

  The DJ spun records and music beat out of the speakers. At one point Marisol crossed her legs and sat directly across from Shane. A waiter came to the group with a cake, sparkler jabbed in the middle. Hope’s eyes lit up, Shane stood beside her as she made her “wish” and the sparks fizzled. While Hope sliced through the cake, Marisol moved up close to Shane and brushed her arm against his. He turned his head to see her black hair shining against the pool and the whites of her eyes bright against her super dark makeup.

  Hope licked frosting off her thumb and turned to hand Shane a plate. He wasn’t next to her anymore, but feet away with his hands in his pockets, hunched over. Marisol was leaning in his ear whispering something. Hope felt that sensation again- that ill dread she felt when Dominic let her go. She looked at Shamayla who was laughing out loud, feeding Justin cake.