by Stacy Eaton
“For you? Yes. For anyone else? No, not at all.”
I startled back slightly. “What do you mean, for me, yes?”
“Ali, I love you to death, you know that. We have been besties since freshman year in college, but I can’t see you doing this. I’m worried that you will freak out at the last minute and end up not doing it, and then you will be mortified and stress over it for weeks.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but closed it and wilted slightly in my seat. “Okay, I get what you are saying.” I pushed some of my salad around on my plate. “But what if this works for me? What if I go out there and dance with these men and find one that I connect with? And what if I can do it without ever having to open my mouth and say anything? What if I have such a connection with one of them that it leads to a third date, a fourth, maybe a future?”
She blinked rapidly for a few seconds. “Do I need to remind you that you can’t dance? You trip over your own feet walking from the room, Ali. How do you think that you are going to dance when you are so nervous that you’ll probably puke? Five minutes ago, you were asking me why I talked you into doing this after you said you weren’t sure you’d be able to do it. Now you are acting like you are trying to convince me.”
“I’m not trying to convince you.” I paused. “Okay, maybe I am trying to convince you so that I convince myself that it’s a good idea.”
She rubbed her temples like she had a headache coming on.
“Look, I want to do it. I do. I really, really do, and I need you on my side. I need you to encourage me because you are right. When it gets time to go out there, I might be so nervous that I forget everything, and I’ll need someone to pick me up after I trip over my own feet and pass out from mortification.”
She reached over the table and put her hand on my arm. “And I will be there, taking pictures the whole time.”
I laughed. “No, you won’t! There will be enough cameras there to capture my humiliation. Speaking of pictures, are you still working on your line for the gallery show?”
“Yep, I am.”
For a few minutes, we talked about a couple of the new photos that Charlie had taken recently and the plans for her show. I loved her photographs, loved watching her work. Her pictures were conversation pieces, no matter who saw them. She was incredible, and not just with one subject, but with just about anything that she put into the frame of her lens. She could bring life to a wall, or humanness to a frog. Her talent was exceptional, and I envied her.
Not only was she an incredible photographer, but she was a wonderful person too. She went out of her way to help people, and she was my best friend to boot!
After lunch, we spent the afternoon browsing our favorite boutiques downtown, and we were coming out of one when my cellphone rang with a number that looked familiar, but I didn’t recall immediately.
“Hello?”
“Ali? This is Holly Melton, the producer of May I Have This Dance.”
“Hi, Holly. How are you?”
“I’m great. I just wanted to check in with you and make sure that you are all set to get started tomorrow.”
“I am. I’m looking forward to it.” As I said the words, a mixture of panic and excitement whooshed through my veins.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. I also wanted to let you know that there has been a slight change.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, one of your dates had to back out, he was in a water-skiing accident and broke his leg.”
“Oh, no! Poor guy!”
“But don’t worry, I had a backup just in case, and he’s excited to step in.”
“Alright, and you think he might be someone that I’ll like?”
“Oh, Ali, I know this man personally. He will be perfect.”
I chuckled a little uneasily. “Well, I’m leaving that up to you. I think I have enough to worry about.”
She laughed. “That is for sure! Preparing for your dates is going to be intense.”
“I do not doubt that,” I replied with a snicker.
“You’ll do great. I know you will. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Thank you, Holly.”
Charlie and I headed into another store, and as I browsed the racks, my mind was a million miles away. Was it possible to find love through dancing? Was I only kidding myself? Was I setting myself up to fail?
I didn’t want to fail. I love to dance, and I know that I wasn’t very good at it, but I did love to dance. I honestly felt like music and movement were a different form of communication, and since the natural way of finding someone wasn’t working for me, maybe this one would. Perhaps I wouldn’t find love, but maybe, just maybe, this could help me get out of my shell a little bit, and I could try to find it another way later if this didn’t work.
Or possibly, one of my three dates would twirl me off my feet and carry me into the sunset. I frowned as I fingered a blouse on a hanger. When had I become such a hopeless romantic? Maybe I was spending too much time reading romance books, and not enough time searching through the reality of life. Not that I had much time to read these days, but it was more time than I spent socializing with other people.
It was so easy to get lost in a fictional world. A good author could suck you right into their words, and weave such a masterful tale that you never wanted to leave. It would be as if you were living those moments, feeling those emotions, having your heartbroken and then repaired.
I wanted a fictional story—only in real life—with a strong hero who would swoop in and fill my heart with joy. I sighed and looked around for Charlie. She was on the other side of the shop, leaning against the checkout with one hip and flirting with one of the employees.
Why couldn’t I be more like her? I wanted to be outgoing, to be able to let go of my fear and forge on. Charlie touched the man’s arm as she laughed, and I stood mesmerized as his smile widened, and he shifted slightly toward her. There was instant chemistry between those two, and I was in awe. I stood there for a full minute, watching them flirt with one another, and then finally, Charlie removed a card from her purse, took his hand, and placed the card into his palm.
They stared at one another, and then she tipped her dark head to the side, winked, and said she hoped to hear from him soon. She was grinning at me as she passed and glanced back over her shoulder once. I turned to the man, his gaze glued to her retreating back and a smile of amazement on his handsome face.
I wanted to stomp my foot, throw my hands in the air, and scream. She made it look so easy! How? How can she just walk up to a man and start talking, then give him her number? Seriously? I rushed after her and caught up to her on the sidewalk.
“How do you do that? You amaze me. If I could be a tenth as confident as you are, life would be so much easier.”
“Ali, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You are a confident person; you are an amazing person.”
“Yeah, when I’m in the kitchen, but you can walk up to anyone, anywhere, and say anything. What were you two talking about anyway? He was a handsome man.”
“Yes, he was. I told him I wanted him to model for me.”
I snickered. “Did you tell him he was going to be nude when you did?”
She bumped her shoulder into mine as she laughed. “No, I didn’t, and I wasn’t even thinking that. I love his facial bone structure. I’d love to photograph him on the stairs of the museum.”
Another thing I was in awe about with Charlie. She could see a person and immediately come up with the perfect backdrop for them. “You simply amaze me,” I said with a sigh.
“Oh, Ali, you amaze me just as much. Especially when you cook one of your incredible desserts; that chocolate mousse thing that you made the other night—oh, my god, it was unbelievable.”
“Ah, yes, Decadent Midnight, that’s what I’m calling it. We are going to add it to the menu next month when we revamp it.”
“It is going to be a bestseller.”
“I hope so.”
We fini
shed our shopping and then stopped at a local pub for a drink and meal before we split ways. While we enjoyed a light dinner and drinks, we joked about our jobs, love, the past, and the future.
“I sure hope that it goes well for you this week. Will I be able to watch?”
“The dance sessions are closed, but they do have a viewing area for the recording of the dances on Friday for VIPs.”
“Make sure my name is on that VIP list. I don’t want to miss this!”
“Oh, I already have it there. I’m not sure I can do this without you being present.”
Charlie hugged me tightly. “I know you don’t have confidence in yourself, but I do for you. You can do this, Ali, I know you can.”
“Thanks!” We said our goodbyes and parted ways on the street.
I stood under the overhang as she dashed down the street to the parking garage. I shifted my gaze up to the sky as the rain began to come down in torrents. Damn, I wish I had brought an umbrella. I considered hailing a cab, but it was only three blocks to my condo.
Crap, I sighed as I hunched forward and rushed out into the rain. As I tried to avoid puddles on the sidewalk, I dwelled over the scene in the shop earlier. Would I ever find that instant kind of chemistry with someone? Would I be able to step up to a man and start a conversation that didn’t revolve around sauces or blending or fresh produce?
I pursed my lips because I knew the answer—no.
I ducked around the corner and slammed right into someone, bouncing back and starting to lose my footing. A hand shot out, and the shopping bags dropped from my fingers as I clung to whatever I could.
I was jerked upright and stared into the tense features of the man who held me. His green eyes were drilling into me with an almost angry look—or was stressed. With a blink of the eyes, his features softened as his deep voice slithered down my spine. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
I was practically struck mute—like I always was when an attractive man spoke to me—but I managed to nod and mutter, “Unexpected storm,” as I memorized the shade of green in his eyes.
“Yeah, unexpected.” He let go of me hastily and stepped around me to retrieve my bags as I stood there gawking. His hair was dark, and rivulets of water ran down his face—probably exactly how it was on mine. Oh man, I probably looked like a drowned rat!
Was it the rain or was his hair the same color as mine? It was cut short and showed off the cutest ears—and oh, how I wanted to touch them. His shoulders were broad, and as he turned back to me, I realized he was the perfect height. I loved men who were only a few inches taller than me. We could easily look into each others eyes, and there were never any awkward neck positions for either of us.
“Sorry,” he said with a wince as he held the bags out to me, and I slowly took them, unable to tear my gaze from his. “You alright?” he asked abruptly.
I managed to nod, and then for two seconds, we stared at each other. I forgot about the rain, forgot about being soaked, or that my packages were probably ruined. In those brief moments, I saw things that I would never have expected to have seen. There was confusion, pain, and maybe even a little sorrow there, and it was like someone had just reached right into my chest and squeezed my heart.
A sharp ringing sound had me startling, and we broke eye contact as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone. He nodded at me and spun on his heel, taking long strides down the sidewalk and out of my life. Any chance of ever knowing more about him was gone, and I slowly turned and headed through the torrents of rain just as thunder vibrated overhead.
It was the story of my life.
Chapter Three
Harvey
I glanced back over my shoulder; the woman I’d practically trampled was turning the corner and now out of sight. I’d been lost in thought, shielding myself from the rain that came out of nowhere. With my head down, I hadn’t been paying attention until I slammed into her. She’d had a silent beauty about her. One that radiated from deep within, but I didn’t have time for that. A brother needed my help, and you never left a brother when they were in need. As I turned back around, I chalked it up to a missed opportunity and headed to the buddy’s apartment.
Monday morning, I approached the building, glancing up at the sign above my head that read, Barbara Armand Dance Academy. What the hell was I doing here? Holly was lucky that I was here at all. Last night had been a nightmare. Todd, a close buddy of mine from the Marines, had one of his episodes, and several of us were there to talk him down and get him to take his meds. I hadn’t gotten home until almost four. Now at eight, as I pulled open the glass door and removed my shades, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like my reason for being here.
I took the stairs to the second floor as instructed and glanced around at the madhouse. People were milling about, with a ton of large plastic pelican cases and other hard equipment storage containers lining the hallway. What the hell was my sister filming, and why did she want me here?
It wasn’t the first time that I had visited one of my sister’s production sites, so it wasn’t new to me, but I was still trying to figure out what was going on. What did my sister possibly need me here for? I knew nothing about dance or production. Maybe she had a star here and wanted some security. I glanced around the main room and down both hallways to locate my sister.
“Can you tell me where Holly Melton is?” I asked a woman as she began to pass me.
She pointed to the hallway on the right. “Second door on the right.”
“Thanks,” I told her as she hurried away.
As I stopped at the door, I heard my sister say, “I know he’ll do it. He’s my brother. He will do anything for me.”
I rapped a knuckle on the door and stepped in. “Um, that might change depending on what you want me to do.”
Holly turned bright eyes toward me. “Harv!” She threw her arms around my neck. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here. Now tell me why.”
She winced slightly and glanced at the other man who had a wild beard and a baseball hat on backward, his arms covered in colorful ink.
“I’m filming this fun new show. It’s a reality show.” She paused and then spoke the next sentence in a rush. “The guy who was supposed to be in this episode was injured, and I needed a stand-in for him.”
I laughed, never imagining myself on television. “You want me to be in one of your shows? Doing what? Am I just standing around, or do I have lines?”
The man beside her chuckled, and Holly slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand. “No speaking, well, there is some speaking, but what I really need you to do is dance.”
I stared at her, then at the guy, and then turned my focus back to my sister as I cocked my head slightly. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
She shook her dark hair back and lifted her chin. A clear sign that she was attempting to overcome her nerves. “I said I need you to dance.”
I started laughing and glanced around a bit uncomfortably, wondering if my sister was trying to punk me. Were the cameras on already? “I swear you just said that you need me to dance.”
“Yes, I did.”
My jaw dropped as I stared at her in disbelief. “Are you crazy, Holly? I don’t dance!”
She grabbed my arm as if she knew that the sudden urge to flee from the building was rushing through me. “Wait, Harvey, listen to what I have to say. Please! I really, really need your help. Please!” she begged, her voice getting all soft and sad, and it pissed me off because she knew what that did to me.
“I’m going to give you guys a few minutes,” the other man said and then left, closing the door behind him.
“Why would you for one second think that this would be alright?”
“Oh, come on! It’s not a big deal, Harv. They teach you a dance, and then you dance. You have fun, and then you go on with your life.”
“Why are you asking me to do this? What the hell is this?”
&n
bsp; She sighed wearily and took a seat. “It’s called May I Have This Dance. We take one person looking for love and match them with three compatible people. All of them learn the same dance, and then the one person, the female, in this case, dances with all three men—one of which will be you. You don’t see each other until the music starts, and you don’t even talk to one another. You just dance the routine, and when the music ends, you both walk away without a word.”
I laughed. “And what the hell is the purpose of that?”
“Well, these people are looking for love, for a connection with the other person; they are searching for chemistry.”
I laughed harder and crossed my arms over my chest. “You think that people can find love dancing with strangers and never saying a word? I know you are flighty and romantic, Holly, but this is stupid even for you.”
She lurched forward into my face. “This is not stupid, Harvey! This is a chance for someone to find love. It means something to someone—to me—to them. I don’t expect her to choose you—you are far from her type—but I needed someone safe to fill the spot. The guy who was supposed to be here broke his damn leg, and our process to get on this show is intense and has a lot of background checks. I know you’re good and that you aren’t some crazy lunatic, so that’s why I asked you.”
I grunted.
She took me by the shoulders and gave me her damn puppy dog eyes. “Please, Harvey. I needed someone quick, and you are the only person I can count on.”
“Do I really have to dance?”
“Yes, but I have a great choreographer that is going to help, and two professional dancers that are going to assist you in learning the routine.”
“Why can’t one of them do it?”
“Because I need someone real, who doesn’t have professional experience, and who is handsome and could be her type.”
“What is her name?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“What?”
“I can’t tell you her name, and she won’t know yours or the other two men either. You won’t even talk to her; you’ll just dance and then walk away.”