by Kathryn Shay
Rolling off her, he eased her over his chest, and cuddled her to him. “Why didn’t we do this before? We would have had five years of each other by now.”
“Maybe it would have been different then. We were so caught up in our careers. More selfish, I think.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” His fingers brushed her arm, creating goosebumps.
They lay silently, staring up at the fan whirring above them.
Turning, she braced her arms on his chest, gazed into his eyes. “So, was that the warm and sensitive Ronan or did it bring out the animal in you?”
“I have no idea. I was crazy for you, wanted you so much, the last thing I was doing was thinking about the way we did it.”
“Sleepy?”
He held her gaze. “No. You?”
“Nope. We could dance again, naked.”
He reached up behind the nightstand and flicked on music. He stood, went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, then pulled her out of bed.
They moved on the floor in a sensuous duet. Eliza had never danced naked, and it was fun and sexy. They made it through two songs, when his hands clasped her butt. “Again?” she asked.
“Yes.” This time, she eased him onto the bed. “Stretch out.” Before she joined him, she opened the nightstand drawer. Fished out another condom, and something else. “Slide down so your hands reach the slats on the headboard.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now, fist your hands around two slats.”
He obeyed and his pec muscles and biceps pulsed.
Then she slid her eye mask over his head.
“What the fuck is that?”
“I wear it sometimes to bed to block out light.”
“I hope it’s not pink.”
She laughed.
Sliding down his body, she massaged him. Took the tip of him into her mouth. He grimaced and made a grunting sound. This went on until he growled out, “Liza, please. You’re killin’ me.”
She picked up the condom and slowly sheathed him. He swore until she finished. “What do you want next, love?” she asked.
“You know.”
“Tell me.”
“Straddle me.”
She did.
“Now take me inside you.”
She settled down an inch.
“More.”
“More what?”
“Down further, damn it.”
Two more times and he was inside her again. She gasped. He filled her completely, something she didn’t have the time to notice before. “What next?”
“Move, up and down.” He started to bring his hands to her hips. “No! Do not let go.”
“Arrgh!”
She started pumping him, and not because of his begging. It was her own need that made her go fast, faster, fastest. And at last, the sweet pinnacle clenching her, the exquisite release, one burst, two…three…
A bright-shining light.
The popping of fireworks.
A myriad of color.
She lost herself in it all.
Chapter 4
* * *
On Monday morning, Eliza was happy and depressed at the same time. She adored the lovemaking, but as she suspected, having sex with him brought them so close it frightened her. They were easy with each other, though, and drove into town about eleven. Ronan was scheduled for lunch with a local newspaper for his first, promised interview, and Eliza ran errands and planned to grab food out. She left her dance bag in the playhouse, and was locking up when she heard, “I was hoping to catch you.”
She turned and found Mitt Rankin behind her. He was dressed down in jeans and a blue T-shirt. He’d slung a sweater over his shoulders. “Hello.”
“Hi, Mitt. I’m afraid Ronan isn’t available to talk. He’s got a lunch meeting.”
“Speaking of lunch, I’m starved. Would you want to get something to eat with me?”
“Well, I have a few stops to make, but sure. There’s an excellent diner down Main Street.”
They walked side-by-side. He asked, “So, how do you like Hidden Cove after living in New York?”
“It’s refreshing. I love the people here. They’re so relaxed.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“Are you originally from New York?”
“Born and bred in Brooklyn. I still live there, in the house I inherited after my parents passed away. I’ve fixed it up over the years.”
They came to DeLuca’s diner and walked inside. A hostess showed them to a booth. Before she sat, she saw Alessia Casella and Anabelle Crane at a table in the back. Ali’s brows rose but she waved. Anabelle turned around, caught sight of her, and smiled. Hell, now she’d have to tell Ronan about the lunch. Not that he’d make a fuss. Friends with benefits, he’d said.
“How does the menu look?” Mitt asked.
“The food’s great here. I had an artichoke and cheese omelet with fruit with a friend the other day.”
“I’d starve with that.”
They perused the menu until a waitress came over.
Mitt said, “I’ll have double cheese burger with extra French fries and a coke.”
“I’ll have a single cheeseburger, no roll, and the house salad.”
When the waitress left, Mitt frowned. “You eat like a bird.”
“I eat like a dancer.”
“Yeah, but you don’t do that anymore, do you?”
“Only to teach. I owned a ballet school for a while, but then got into choreography, where I do demonstrate.”
“And still have to be religious about your meals?”
“No, I feel better without a daily diet of carbs. I do have sweets often enough, but not in excess.” She peered over at him. “Now, tell me something about you.”
“I’m twenty-five, I have three brothers, I like to cook and hike. Are there any hike-able paths in Hidden Cove?”
“Yeah, a lot in the hills here. I walked one last Friday.”
“We have some things in common.” He reached out and grasped her hands. “I want to get to know you better, Eliza. A lot better.”
Dear, Lord, he was putting the moves on her. She never expected that. She drew her hands back gracefully just in time, as Ali and Anabelle came up to her table. “Hey, Eliza. I couldn’t leave without saying hello.” She turned to Mitt. “I’m Alessia, Ronan’s cousin.”
“I’m Anabelle, a friend of the family.”
“Hello, Ali. Anabelle.”
“Having a good day?” Alessia asked them.
“I am now.” Mitt smiled sensuously. “How about you Eliza?”
“Sure. I went out to do errands and bumped into Mitt at the playhouse.”
“The playhouse?”
“Yes, I came out to see Eliza.”
“He’s the author of the play we’re doing.” Why was she being so defensive?
“Huh. I see.” Alessia still seemed confused. “Well, I have to get going.”
“And I’m on the clock.” Anabelle smiled. “Nice to see you Eliza, and meet you Mitt.”
When the two women left, Eliza was upset. She couldn’t help but speculate what Ali would tell Ronan. Much as she adored this family, there were no secrets among them. But if she told him, would Ronan even care? And why the hell did she feel guilty? They’d never talked about seeing other people.
* * *
Ronan and Eliza watched as the group of potential actors arrived for the first day of tryouts. He was glad to see they were varied in age. When they were seated in the rows off to the left side of the auditorium, she stepped forward. She’d changed into tights, a leotard and a flowing dance skirt all in dark blue. “Hello. I’m Eliza Ellington. I’ll be choreographing the play.
“These are your information sheets. Fill in the usual stuff, along with your age and status: student, independently living, jobs, etc. As for the adults in the play, put down the same, but instead of school, cite your availability around your jobs.”
“Why?” a young girl asked. She had classic features
. A dance posture. Ronan bet she had a lot of experience in drama.
“We’ll need to start practice next week,” Eliza answered. “Depending on everyone’s availability. So, put down what hours you’re free. I will say if you don’t have free time from five on, then you probably shouldn’t even try out.
“Next is your acting experience, both in and out of school and community playhouses. And don’t worry, if you can act, you won’t need previous experience.
“Last, note which character you’d like to play.”
After she handed out the sheets, and the group got to work, she stepped back and joined Ronan where he leaned against the stage. “Doing well today, Ms. Ellingham?” he whispered.
“You know I am.” Her blue eyes glimmered with satisfaction. “Especially after this morning.”
“I fully agree.” They’d made love again in the early hours, then spent the rest of the day working on the play. They discussed characterization, choreography, staging and how they’d conduct the audition today.
He looked out over the auditorium. “The first session is always fun. Discovering new talent, seeing the excitement on the actors’ faces, anticipating a new beginning.”
“I agree. I love this night.”
When the group finished filling out the sheets, Eliza and Ronan collected them.
“Good afternoon, all of you,” Ronan said with a smile. “I’m thrilled to see so many people who want to be part of My Sweet Caroline. I’m Ronan Casella.” He gave a bit of his background, and about half of them seemed shocked. “Ms. Ellington was a prima ballerina at The Ballet Company of New York. After that, she worked on several Broadway and Off-Broadway shows.”
A few gasps. Rumblings filtered through the crowd.
“Don’t let our experience scare you away. We were both in your shoes once, and know how intimidating a stage can be. My sage advice: Just do your best. Don’t over act.”
Eliza added, “I hope you’re all ready to do some dancing. Tomorrow, I’m going to take you in small groups and teach you a few moves. Granted, the dances within the play are simpler, more traditional, but the full ballet scenes require more talent.”
She held up more papers. “I have the parts you’re to read. Each is for one of the main characters: Caroline, our young ingenue; Linc, the male lead; Jackson Keen—the director. Second leads are Jeb and Mari.”
“Oh, can I be Caroline?” The same girl who questioned her before asked. Ronan noticed now that her shirt was low cut.
“Maybe you will. In the meantime, study the part you received for ten minutes. And please everybody, remain quiet.”
Another girl at the end of the row stood and started down the aisle to the exit. Ronan hurried away to catch up with her. “Carina?”
She turned.
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t do this. I can act. But I totally can’t dance.”
“The dancing parts for the characters are simple. Please, give it a try.”
She seemed so uncertain, he wanted to hug her. “Okay, Uncle Ronan. Not that I’d be good enough for anything else, but I only want a small part.”
In ten minutes, they were ready to read.
Eliza said, “Maryann Truman. You’re up first. With Joe Johnson.”
The young girl, dressed in leopard-print yoga pants and a long yellow top, walked up on stage. Her long dark hair had a streak of blue in it, and she sported several piercings in her ears.
Clean-cut Joe Johnson had the sturdy build of a football player. He moved gracefully, though, and with confidence.
The two faced each other on the floor.
Ronan said, “We’re ready any time.”
LINC: (smiling)I’m glad you’re happy tonight. Sometimes you seem sad.
CAROLINE: (looking around wildly first) I—I something’s happening to me, Linc.
LINC: Tell me! Maybe I can help.
CAROLINE: (moving in closer) I think…I think somebody’s following me.
JACKSON KEEN: (loudly) Are you ready to rehearse?
CAROLINE: (tenses up) Yes.
JACKSON: You’d better be.
And so it went.
* * *
The evening had gone well, Eliza thought, except for one thing. When Ronan ended the night, he said, “Thanks, everybody. We’d like you all back tomorrow at the same time.”
As the cast walked down the aisle, he turned to Eliza. “Who’s going to tell her?”
“I will.” She followed the group out. Most had reached the doors. “Sabrina York, would you stay back please?”
The girl gave a triumphant smile to her friend. Then walked to Eliza, who took her down several rows for privacy. Sabrina stood in front of her. “So, I got the lead, right? That’s why you called me back.”
“No, that’s not why.”
A look of confusion on her face. Eliza hoped she’d never been this arrogant.
“I have something else to tell you. If you come back, tomorrow, please dress appropriately.”
A quick glance down at her cleavage. So, she knew.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your top is revealing. We’d like you to dress appropriately.”
“Ronan asked you to tell me this?”
“Mr. Casella and I have dealt with this issue before. In our plays. In New York. And I owned a dance school which, by the way, produced ballerinas who went on to work with the Joffrey, the Bolshoi and The Ballet of New York.”
Her eyes rounded. “But Ms. Ellington, you didn’t tell us how to dress.”
Eliza pretended a frown. “Did I tell you not to spit on the floor?”
“Of course not, everybody knows…” she trailed off.
“Inherently, everybody knows not to do that. However, if you by chance weren’t aware of how to dress, please wear a top that isn’t so low-cut.”
“What about Mad Maryann? She’s a freak.”
“Leopard tights and a long yellow shirt does not constitute freak in my book.”
“She wore fuc—damned army boots.”
“I told her not to wear them again. She can’t dance in them. She agreed.”
“If I don’t do what you say?”
“Then don’t come back, dear. We saw plenty of talent tonight.”
“You gotta be kidding me. I’m going to join The Ballet Company of New York in September.”
Eliza kept herself from wincing. The same kind of internship Taylor had been drafted for in Chicago. “Good luck with them, but I think you’ll find they’ve got high standards, too.”
Her pretty face reddened. “I could report you and him for sexual harassment.”
“Go ahead report me. The former prima of The Ballet Company of New York. All it would take is a call to them…”
“We’ll see.”
“Don’t come back, Ms. York unless you intend to cooperate.”
Sabrina whirled around and strode out, letting the auditorium door slam shut behind her.
In her heart, Eliza hoped Sabrina did indeed come back with decent clothes on. She had acted well and danced even better. Eliza would honestly love to work with her.
“Didn’t go so well?” Ronan asked when she came back down the aisle and sat next to him.
“Nothing we haven’t encountered before. I handled it like we always have. Sabrina’s spoiled.”
“Probably because she’s so talented.”
“Were you a brat?”
“The School of the Arts would never allow that during auditions or during play practice. Outside of the drama, I was pretty much a brat.”
She wanted to kiss him he was so cute sometimes. Instead, she said, “Let’s talk about what we saw tonight. First off, Carina did well.”
“She’s more talented than she thinks. She says she can’t dance though.”
“She did okay. I thought I was going to cry when she talked to her dead father.”
“She told me she’d only take something small.”
“The role of
Lucy isn’t that big. I can work with her on the dancing, since the part doesn’t call for much.”
“Let’s put her down as a strong possibility for Lucy.” Ronan glanced down at the list. “In my opinion, the contenders for Caroline are Sabrina York and Maryann Truman. Brie Simons is too old for the lead, unfortunately. She was great.”
“She’d make a perfect mother,” Eliza put in. As for the guys, I like Joe Johnson. Mike Mason’s a contender, too, though he seemed as if he was holding back.”
“Both guys can act.” Ronan was thoughtful. “I’d pick either for Linc or Jeb.”
“What about Jackson Keen?”
“The drama teacher’s a shoe-in for it. I wanted to strangle him in the first audition. That means he nailed it.”
Eliza nodded. “Sometimes that happens. Kismet.”
“Like us. We’ve always had magic about us.”
“Yeah, we connected in bed.”
“Hmm. Now that you mention it…”
He took a quick look around, then leaned over and kissed her.
All thoughts of snotty little Sabrina dissipated into thin air.
* * *
The next day, Ronan studied his office. The space needed some life. Though furnished with a functional desk and file cabinets, and had windows open to the air, Ronan considered what would spruce the place up.
His phone rang. “Ronan Casella.”
“Mr. Casella, this is Sally York, Sabrina’s mother.”
“Hello, Ms. York.”
“I’d like to meet with you and Ms. Ellingham, before practice if possible.”
“We’re at the playhouse all day. In case we go out for something, what time would work for you?”
“Before lunch. Say 11:30?”
“I can make that happen. See you then.”
He clicked off. Eliza was blocking out some dance scenes on the stage when he walked into the wings. She glided around the floor like a gazelle, something she’d often been compared to in reviews. Her arms swept gracefully up and down, across her body. She did a plié, then a short run, and then leapt in the air. When she came down, she stopped.
Clapping and a whistle.
She turned abruptly. “I didn’t realize anyone was watching.”