Wow, this girl lived for gossip. “Don’t worry, we’ll deal with Elizabeth after the finale. For now, throw that book away, will you? I’ll get your paso up to par.” Selena wiggled her butt and strutted toward the dance floor. “Selena is In. Da. House!”
She paraded over to Xavier and took his hand. “It’s a deal. You have yourself a tour choreographer.” She prepared to shake on it but Xavier lifted her in the air and spun her around.
“That’s what I’m talking about girl. It’s going to be fierce. You won’t regret it.”
Selena looked over at Bret and he smiled at her. Maybe she should thank him for telling her that there was a world beyond competing. He was right. She had been so narrow minded and wanted to go straight from the floor to being a housewife and mother. For the first time in Selena’s life, she would live her life how she wanted to live it. Not what her partner, her boyfriend, her mother, her coach, or her friends wanted, but just for her. And someday, she hoped she’d be able to fall in love and start the family she craved.
Swing
Arm in arm, they took the floor. The happy couple playfully swayed to the music. She flirted with him, seductively rocking her hips back and forth. He pulled her into his chest and traced her body with his fingertips. She rolled her body toward him, then teasingly turned away. They bounced on the floor as they separated from each other. She hugged him from behind and he smoothly clasped her hand on his shoulder and led her off the floor. Smiling and giddy, they pranced off into the night.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bret always loved the drive to Bolinas. It was windy and beautiful. The perfect escape from Hollywood and Selena.
The producers had the idea of filming his last practice session with Robyn on the beach, which was fine with Bret. Bolinas was his dream town. He vowed to one day own a little cottage on the beach and spend his days woodworking and throwing driftwood to his dog. An ideal artist community—Bolinas was the home to surfers, poets, writers, artists, and recluses.
In order to keep their little slice of paradise hidden, the locals always destroyed any signs that identified the town. Robyn and Bret made the journey without needing a map, but Bret was delighted when they lost the filming crew behind them. He figured the crew would head further down Highway One before they realized they missed the unmarked turn.
Robyn pointed ahead. “Could you stop here?”
Bret pulled in front of the Coast Café. They ran inside and ordered two coffees. Bret loved the surfboards that were hanging from the ceiling.
Robyn seemed mesmerized by the quaint town. They looked at the locals down below on the courtyard from the café’s sunny deck.
Bret took a sip of his coffee. “I feel like I’m back in the sixties.”
“Yeah, isn’t it awesome?” Robyn blended into the local scene.
Bret couldn’t help his mind drift to Selena. They had spent their last weekend together here together before the miscarriage story leaked. Selena had even mentioned that she wanted to get married on the beach.
Robyn put her hand on Bret’s shoulder. “I can see you are struggling with something.”
“There’s nothing to say. Selena and I gave our relationship another try and it didn’t work out. End of story.”
“This isn’t about that, is it? This is about her miscarriage. I read the article.”
Bret grimaced. Though they had never talked about it, he was sure that Robyn must’ve heard the rumors on set of his and Selena’s relationship.
“Look, Bret. Selena was young. I know that must be hard for you to accept, but in my beliefs, the soul doesn’t enter the body until the first breath—the breath of life.”
Bret wasn’t in the mood to listen to her new age dogma. “Well in my beliefs and religion, the soul is present from the moment of conception. It’s not her fault that she had a miscarriage, but I’m sure the stress of her lying to me and leaving me didn’t help the situation. I just can’t trust her, not for lying back then, but more for not telling me when we got back together.”
“Don’t you see, Bret? This was your path. Had you and Selena had the baby, you may have never gone on the show. She might have never done the show either. Then you wouldn’t be able to raise the money for your friend’s family. Everything happens for a reason. We don’t have to share the same beliefs, but you can’t live in the past. You must be present, be here now.”
“I never thought of it that way.” He had been so angry with Selena for lying to him, that he couldn’t see past the betrayal.
“You know, things haven’t always been perfect with me and Xavier. In the earlier years, I found out that he had cheated on me when he was on the road. I was devastated—filled with so much rage. I blamed him, myself, his music. I left him and filed for divorce. It ended up being a good time for me though. I focused on improving myself—I learned how to meditate, studied yoga, took a painting class. Once I released all the anger I had toward Xavi, I realized that no matter what I still loved him. I am happier with him, despite his betrayal, than I am on my own. He had learned from his mistakes also and now we are stronger than ever. So what I’m saying is that if Selena makes you happy and you truly love her, you owe it to yourself to forgive her or you’ll never be at peace.”
The cool ocean breeze made Bret shiver. “I still don’t see how we could ever create a life together. We’re just too different.”
“Yes, you are different. But she loves you, I can see that. And sometimes, that is enough.”
They finished their coffee and headed into town. The shoot was on “The Patch” – a gorgeous stretch of sand that was popular for long boarders. A group of photographers stood under a makeup canopy, with production people huddled behind them. Bret was sure the locals were not thrilled with the shoot littering their beloved beach with cameras, dressing trailers, and stylists.
As Bret sat in the makeup chair for his final on location clip, he scanned the scenery for Selena just in case she popped up with Xavier. She had a habit of showing up everywhere he was lately, even though Bret had been trying to avoid her. But no matter how hard he tried to push her out of his mind, she kept haunting his thoughts.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together for Xavier and Selena, who will be dancing a swing to the Ray Charles classic ‘Hit the Road Jack.’”
Xavier and Selena glided onto the stage. He looked so fine in his Pachuco Zoot Suit inspired digs. The man got into the creation of his costume, big time. He called all of his fashion gurus in to design the perfect authentic outfit: a black and red pinstriped double-breasted jacket with sleeves that hung to the end of his finger tips, a cardinal-tinted silk shirt, flowing pegged pants, a black fedora with a scarlet feather, a long wallet chain and tan calcos shoes with squared off bulldog toes. Classic. And they hooked Selena up, too: a killer red plumed skirt with a black ruby bedazzled corset studded with diamonds and rubies and a huge red-feathered headdress. She even stuck a switchblade knife into her bouffant styled hair. H-O-T, baby. The audience went wild when they began to dance. Swing was one of her best dances, and for tonight she had choreographed a very Lindy Hop-inspired routine. The two of them flicked up their heels in unison and flew across the floor.
Xavier was divine. A true musician. He wanted to win and had pulled out all the stops. He had even planned a huge Zoot Suit bash for tonight after the show.
They did their signature sugar push move, with Xavier tossing Selena away then yanking her back, and she knew they had nailed this number. As they kicked into their final pose, the music came to a crashing end and applause exploded from the audience. Boo-yah, baby!
Both of them breathing heavily, they headed over to Matt. It was pretty stupid trying to interview dancers in the seconds after a performance, but that was Dancing under the Stars so there they were, two panting dogs dressed to the nines.
“So, Xavier,” host Matt said, “You look quite dapper tonight. Audience, doesn’t he look dapper?”
“Come on people, show me some love!” Xavier shouted. They did, of course. Loudly. “Oye, ese, I gotta tell ya. This crowd is amazing. Give it up for my guisa Selena! Yeah! Show some love. She is bangin’. Those moves are hot. I mean this dance is very special to me, very special to me, for real. I’m Chicano and mi abeulo was a Pachuco. In preparation for this dance, I studied the richness and culture during World War II, back in the 1940s. How Mexican-Americans had an integral part in creating the music and dancing swing. In fact, in honor of what I have learned from this dance, I’m gonna create a special Zoot Suit inspired line of clothing for my line, Xavier Tomas Clothing.” Xavier pounded his fist over his heart. “I feel it, Matt. I feel it deep.”
“Xavier, that’s great. It’s wonderful that you’ve taken such an interest in the history of ballroom dance. Selena, what do you think about Xavier’s new-found inspiration?”
“Well, I don’t know much about history,” she mumbled. “But Xavier’s the best. He’s so great and supportive to me and I love his outfit.” Yeah, that would go down in the archives as the best answer ever. She hated doing interviews; she just wanted to dance.
“Let’s see what the judges had to say. Benjamin Brooks?”
“Xavier, my good bastard, that was a beaut’. Love your duds. You got the style of the dance down,” Benny said.
“Karen Lopez,” Matt said
“Xavier, you are a dream. You’re so graceful and I can see your years of dance training. You gave such an authentic feel to the dance. I can really see that you made a strong effort to include some Lindy Hop moves into your swing but I really appreciate the fact that you still danced with traditional timing,” she said.
“Steve Samson,” Matt asked.
“Xavier, you’re like a rocket. Taking off fast and furious. It was superb,” Steve replied.
“After the break, the judges will reveal their scores,” said Matt.
Xavier and Selena headed back stage. They awaited their scores surrounded by the other dancers. The judges gave them three tens. Thank God, they were the last dance of the night. Xavier and Selena plowed through the after show press junket as fast as they could. Selena rushed to her trailer to change. Jenny and Elizabeth were already inside.
Jenny leaned over Selena’s sink, scrubbing off her makeup. Water beads trickled down her forehead. “There you are. Can you please tell Queen Elizabeth over here that what she is wearing is underwear and not an actual dress?” Jenny grabbed a towel and wiped off her face.
Elizabeth pranced around in a near see-through pink silk slip. “It is too a dress,” she whined. “It’s a Diane von Furstenberg. Vika let me borrow it.” She twirled around like a princess.
Apparently, Jenny and Selena weren’t as cool as Vika. Elizabeth had ditched them twice last week to attend store grand openings with Vika and Nicole. Selena hated those stupid fashion events. They never had anything in her size. Did Beverly Hills even make anything in a size four? She was in great shape but she had hips.
Jenny whipped the towel at Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, please stop taking fashion advice from Vika. She was a stripper.”
Elizabeth pouted. “No, She wasn’t. She was a go-go dancer. It’s not the same thing.”
Just one day of peace is all I ask. “Come on, guys. Jenny, stop giving her such a hard time about everything. What do you want her to wear? Braids and a cotton ankle length dress?”
Jenny seethed and slipped into a navy knee-length BCBG skirt.
Selena backed up to Elizabeth. Elizabeth unhooked Selena’s corset.
Ahh, to breathe again.
“Jen, you did so much better tonight. Dion even stood up straight.”
Jenny zipped up her boots. “Yes, Dion’s improving rapidly. But I think overall he’s better at the Standard dances. The swing was okay because it’s kind of slow, but I’m going to need your help Sel when we get to the samba.”
“Got your back, sista.” Selena threw on her favorite Kate Spade dress and fastened her five-inch pumps. “This party is gonna be awesome. Xavier’s been talking about it for weeks. Come on. Let’s go.”
Xavier’s customized carucha waited outside to take them to the jamboree.
The man outdid himself this time. He had hired a celebrity event designer to coordinate his “Zoot Suit Bash.” Xavier rented out the ballroom of the Beverly Hills L’Hermitage hotel and booked the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra for a night of 1940’s era swing jazz music. It would be off the scale, this shindig. Party of the century, if not the millennium.
They entered through an elegant lobby, crowned by a majestic crystal chandelier, then climbed two flights of marble steps. With each step, the sounds of the orchestra grew louder, and then they arrived and the doors burst open. It was even better than Selena imagined—the raised bandstand filled with gleaming instruments, the pulsating music, and the bubbly performers set against vibrant orange and blue decor. And the dance floor—God! She’d never seen anything like it. Burnished maple, accented by a shiny brass rail tracing its perimeter. There were round tables and a soda fountain dispensing tall mugs of Mexican Coke for a nickel each. It was gorgeous here. Selena thought she had died and landed on the set of the play Zoot Suit. She loved it.
Xavier took the stage as Selena and her posse moved through the crowd.
“¿Que Pasiones? Welcome, everybody, to the new Savoy Ballroom,” he said into a microphone. “I have created this evening in appreciation for the jazz legends who inspired me: Tin-Tan, Cab Calloway, and Lalo Guerrero. Ladies and gentlemen, the music never stops at the Zoot Suit Bash. I also wanted to bring awareness to the Sleepy Lagoon murder trial and the Zoot Suit Riots. Al rato, vato.” He waved his arm broadly to the left. The spotlight followed, picking up Latin music sensation Luis Sanchez emerging from the wings.
Can this night get any better?
On stage, Luis, wearing a purple zoot suit, belted out Lalo Guerrero’s song, “Los Chucos Suaves.” The girls walked up to the bar and Selena ordered a margarita, some chips and guacamole, and a few taquitos.
“Hey, Sel,” Bret said.
She turned to face him. He was also costumed in head to toe 1940’s garb—and looking way sexy in the midnight blue double-breasted zoot suit. Jenny jabbed Selena in the ribs with her elbow, making her near spit her margarita at him. That girl needed some serious lessons in subtlety.
“Hey, Bret,” she said, stepping to the other side of him—away from Jenny. “I’m sorry you got low scores tonight.”
He blew it off with a wave of his hand. “I don’t care about that stupid show, Sel. I think I’ve almost saved up enough money to help Pierce’s family without winning. I honestly just want this season to be over.” He ordered a shot of tequila. “You wanna dance? For old time’s sake?”
Elizabeth gave her a huge grin, then mouthed, “He totally loves you,” and led Jenny away from the bar.
Selena scanned the room. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with my lifestyle.”
“I was just upset. You know I didn’t mean it.” He took a deep breath and downed his tequila. He licked a drop from his lips—the lips that had kissed every inch of Selena’s body just two weeks ago.
“Oh. Well, in that case, fine.” She held up her plate. “But let me finish my food? I’m starving.”
Bret laughed.
She took a big ol’ bite of the taquito and a nibble of a chip smothered in guac and—uh oh. Benny just spotted her stuffing her face. Selena tossed her plate behind a large plant and grabbed Bret’s hand. “No time like the present.”
Benny was still pushing through the crowd when Bret whisked her away to safety.
He led her to the packed floor. Luis sang another song. Selena dug into her purse and popped a mint into her mouth before tossing her bag onto a nearby table. Then she wrapped herself in Bret’s arms. Ummmm. She couldn’t believe she’d gone ten years without these arms.
He squeezed her tight. “Do you remember that time in Croatia at Junior Worlds when we ditched our
sponsor and spent the entire night playing quarters with that Icelandic guy Ingibjörg?”
“Totally. That was the first night I got wasted. And we still won the next day.” Selena rested her head on his shoulder.
His hands lowered to her hips and he swayed her into him. “Selena. I’m sorry. I couldn’t deal with the fact that you never told me you were pregnant. And seeing my name the tabloids. I just couldn’t handle it.” He pulled her chin up with his thumb and forced her to look at him. “You never even gave me a chance back then to make it right. You wanted me to join the Corps. I would’ve done anything for you.”
Oh, no, let’s not do this… It was all she could do not to pull away and end the dance. She so didn’t want to go there with him, not about this. Things were just getting good between them! He could take an emotion to the moon and back in a heartbeat.
“Bret, I was so emotional when I found out I was pregnant. And it was even worse because you were away and I couldn’t talk to you. After I lost the baby, I felt like I had nothing left. I couldn’t have said no to Dima back then. Dima was the world professional Latin Champion and I was a lowly youth amateur champ—of course I said yes when he asked me to be his partner. It was all just so confusing.”
“You could’ve said no to Dima. We were engaged. You gave me your word,” he said. He spun her around to a drumroll. When she landed back in his arms, he squeezed her even tighter. “See that? You can spin away, but always you end up in my arms.” He kissed her neck. Good gawd, did this man remember her buttons? “It feels so good to have you back in my arms,” he said into her ear. “I wonder where we’d be if we never broke up.”
We’d be married, with at least two kids. “Me, too,” she said. The saxophone kicked in, slowing the tempo even more. He twirled her around.
“I don’t think I realized how much I love you until tonight.” He cradled her face and looked into her eyes. There he went again, letting his emotions rocket to the moon—and taking her with him.
Love Waltzes In (Dancing Under The Stars) Page 16