Save the Last Dance

by Save the Last Dance (epub)

“Good.” She held up the container that had been sitting in the cup holder. “Because I brought you a shake.”

  “You did?” she asked, pretending that ice cream wasn’t her favorite food in the world. “What kind?”

  “It’s a vanilla malt from Frank’s Frozen Custard. Last I heard, it was your favorite. Any interest?” She picked it up and playfully looked like she was going to take a sip. “Of course, if you don’t want it now that you’re the main Sugar Plum Fairy, I’ll be happy to consume all those calories.”

  Giggling, Bethany snatched it out of her mother’s hand. “Stop. I still want it!”

  Her mother laughed as she started driving home.

  Taking a sip, she smiled. “These are the best malts in the world. Thanks, Mom.”

  “Anytime.”

  As her mother drove with care along the windy roads of Bridgeport, which were partially covered in snow, Bethany thought about the beautiful costume she was going to get to wear and how good it felt to do something well.

  And how good it felt to get noticed.

  Between that, her mother’s sweet treat, and Jeremy finally making a move, it had been a good day. One of the best.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed.

  The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.”

  In the end, deciding whether or not to accept the modeling job hadn’t been a difficult decision after all. A model’s career was a short one, one that Kimber had often compared to a pro athlete’s. She had a finite number of years to make good money before everyone moved onto the next “it girl,” and she was left behind like yesterday’s news. She also couldn’t think of another job where she could earn six figures in four or five days.

  Put that way, her choice hadn’t really been a choice at all. A couple of weeks of watching her figure and a week of being at a photographer’s beck and call was nothing compared to the amount of security she’d gain. After all, one never knew what was going to happen in one’s future. There might be a time when that extra money would come in handy.

  “I’m so relieved, Kimber,” Brett said when she’d called to tell him the news. “Last night, I swear I almost drank myself silly worrying about what I was going to say if you told me no.”

  Sitting on the couch by the fireplace in their loft, Kimber rolled her eyes. “Drinking himself silly” was a constant occurrence in Brett’s life.

  He didn’t need an excuse, it just happened. At one time, she’d worried about him, fearing that he was going down a dark path. Now though, she shrugged it off. She’d come to learn that her agent exaggerated as much as he supposedly drank.

  She tucked her legs under her in an attempt to get warm. She never knew when he was being real and when he was heaping on the BS. Deciding to take the high road, she said, “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m happy too. Ecstatic. I appreciate you calling me about this job. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I’d do anything for you, Kimber. You’re special to me.”

  Oh, gag. She’d heard him say the same thing to a dozen other models. “I’m assuming you’ll email me with the information?”

  “Yep. Expect your flight info in the next day or so.”

  “Thanks.” When Traci and Shannon walked into the kitchen, Shannon wearing slim black leggings and an ugly Christmas sweater emblazoned with jingle all the way, she felt a sense of relief. Brett might be a great agent, but he still made her uncomfortable. Honestly, he was the exact opposite of her down-to-earth sisters.

  Surging to her feet, Kimber said, “Sorry, but I’ve got to go. Something just came up. Bye.” She hung up as he was sputtering questions at her. As far as she was concerned, she’d done what he wanted and he could wait a few more days to ask anything more of her.

  “Who was that?” Traci asked as she poured herself some coffee. “Oh, and what is there to eat? Has Jennifer made anything good?”

  “Was it Gunnar?” Shannon asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

  “Not Gunnar. That was Brett—and yes, cherry scones.”

  Shannon had already gotten herself a cup of coffee and started walking into their living room. Kimber followed and flicked the switch on the gas fireplace.

  After standing in front of the fire for a moment with a pleased smile on her face, Shannon took the chair closest to it. “Brett? As in Brett the agent?”

  “None other.”

  Traci brought over both the tin of scones and her cup of coffee. Placing the tin on the coffee table, she grabbed one and sat down next to Shannon. “Any reason why he called?”

  “Yep. He called yesterday to offer me a job.”

  Traci looked at her closely. “And . . .”

  “And it was a really good job. One of the best opportunities I’ve ever had.” She waved a hand. “Women’s Weekly offered me the cover—an inside spread, everything.”

  “And I guess it pays real well too,” Shannon said dryly.

  “It does. The whole package was too good to pass up.” She still felt self-conscious about her earnings, but she would never lie about the money.

  “Where is the photo shoot?” Traci asked. Both her posture and her tone seemed carefully controlled.

  “It’s just New York. Not far at all. And it’s only for a couple of days. It seemed almost too good to be true.” Huh. Was she selling the job to them or herself?

  Shannon put down her coffee cup. “I’m starting to realize why you’re telling us all this. You took the job.” Her voice was flat.

  “I did. I didn’t have a choice.”

  Traci eyed her over the top rim of her coffee cup. “Sure you did, Kimber. You can always say no.”

  “You two don’t know what it’s like. People in my profession don’t get asked to do things like this very often. Usually never. This was a really good offer—and I’ll probably never get offered a job like this again.”

  Shannon got back to her feet and turned to face the fire.

  Traci, on the other hand, was staring at her directly. “I’m not saying you were wrong to take it . . . only that you shouldn’t pretend you didn’t want to.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know.” But she was beginning to feel a little annoyed. She didn’t expect them to be jumping up and down, but she would have thought they’d at least be a little more gracious about her decision.

  “I know I’m right.” Traci continued to look at her right in the eye. Kimber had a suspicion Traci used that pointed stare all the time when she arrested folks.

  She wasn’t a big fan of it being directed at her.

  She bit back her irritation and attempted to joke. “You and your confidence, girl.”

  “It’s not being confident if I’m right.”

  “Whatever.”

  Shannon turned to face them again. “When is this job?”

  “Soon. Maybe in a week or so. Brett’s going to email me the details.”

  Shannon frowned. “But Christmas is right around the corner. You don’t think they’ll send you there before Christmas, do you?”

  “Maybe.” It was actually more of a probably. Kimber didn’t mind if it was though. If she went up to New York before Christmas, then she could relax again. She wouldn’t have to be exercising and dieting on Christmas Day.

  But for some reason, she just felt worse. “Like I said, I won’t be gone for more than a couple of days.”

  “Well, at least you’ll get to see all the decorations and everything,” Shannon said. “It’s so pretty in New York City at Christmas.”

  Feeling worse—though she really wasn’t sure why—Kimber blurted, “Hey! Maybe after I get done I could stay and you girls could join me. We could go to a show.”

  “I’d love to go see the Rockettes again,” Shannon mused. “But you know I can’t. The Nutcracker has taken over my life. I’m practically dreaming abou
t it every night.”

  Feeling a fresh wave of guilt, Kimber looked down at her shoes. She’d been leading Shannon to believe that she’d be around to help as much as possible. It hadn’t been a lie. She absolutely had been planning to help. But what could she do? This was a great opportunity.

  Lifting her chin, she tried to come up with the right words to justify what she was doing again. “This came out of the blue. But it’s a really good job. I have to go to New York. What about you, Traci, can you get away for a couple of nights?”

  Traci looked just as disappointed. “Between my work schedule and Bridge, it’s a no go for me too. It would’ve been fun, though. I’ve never been to New York.”

  “We should plan something then.” Feeling desperate to make amends, she said, “Hey, maybe we could go in June? The weather’s nice then, and I won’t be doing a job.”

  “Yes. Of course. Maybe in June.” Shannon grabbed one of the scones. “Well, um, speaking of work, I better get on my way downstairs. My senior steppers are coming in to practice their tap dancing and then my little preschoolers are arriving to learn their dance.”

  When she turned away, Kimber felt even worse. Shannon had wanted her to tap dance, and she had even bought her a pair of tap shoes. But instead of appreciating her kindness, Kimber had made sure Shannon knew that she hated every minute of it.

  She sat down. How come it felt like every single “right” decision she had ever made was suddenly coming back to bite her? She felt bad about everything.

  Practically feeling the heat behind Traci’s disapproving glare, she said, “I get it. You’re disappointed.”

  Traci raised her eyebrows but murmured, “I’m not anything. Whatever you want to do with your life is your business. I mean, I’m not your mother.”

  “I know that. And just for the record, my mother’s going to be very happy I said yes to this job.” Although, technically, Kimber wasn’t positive about that. Her mother had wanted her to do something with her brain, not pose in “those tiny outfits.”

  “I’m sure she’s proud of you,” Traci said. “I mean, you’ve made a great career as a model. You’re beautiful and famous.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. Put that way, she was being ungrateful and maybe greedy. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I said yes. The decision has been made.”

  Traci stood up, taking the tin with her. “I guess I’m just thinking it’s a shame that all the reasons you quit don’t seem to matter anymore. You sounded so sure, but I guess you weren’t. Or maybe you changed your mind.”

  There was only so much recrimination she was willing to put up with. “For the record, I’m thinking it’s a shame that you can’t be happy for something I’ve worked so hard for. I don’t know a single model in my profession who would have said no to this.”

  “I guess that’s what counts, then.” She smiled tightly. “I’m going to go say hi to Gwen before I get on home. Matt is with Bridge but he’s got to run in to see a patient this afternoon. Kimber, I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah. See you, Traci.” Why did that feel like they were suddenly talking to each other like strangers?

  Reaching for another scone, Kimber came up empty.

  Traci had taken that darn tin with her! That little gesture ticked her off, because she knew that Traci had done it on purpose. Maybe she hadn’t done it out of spite. Maybe Traci had taken it since she knew that Kimber was going to be back to watching what she ate, which meant no scone binging.

  She wouldn’t have been wrong.

  But . . . Kimber still felt those yummy Christmas treats’ loss. Almost as much as her sisters’ presence.

  She picked up her phone, ready to text Gunnar, but inevitably decided against it. If he was disappointed in her too, she would feel even worse.

  And if she started feeling even worse about herself, Kimber didn’t know what she would do. She couldn’t take much more of this.

  CHAPTER 14

  “There’s a song in the air!”

  —josiah g. holland, “christmas”

  After spending most of the last hour not doing much except looking out the window and pacing, Gunnar suddenly muttered under his breath.

  Jeremy was beyond glad about that. It had been the longest morning in the world—especially since Gunnar had kept making him clean the same stuff over and over. Jeremy was sure the kitchen countertops had never been as shiny as they were now.

  “That’s her?” Jeremy walked to his side and stared at the sporty red SUV that had just pulled into their driveway.

  “Yep.” Looking like he was about to head into battle, Gunnar pulled on his jacket. “Grab a coat, Jeremy. Let’s go help my mother unload. If she’s true to form, she’s going to have a ton of stuff.”

  Jeremy did as Gunnar asked, but he was confused. “I thought you liked your mom.”

  A line formed between Gunnar’s eyebrows. “Oh, I do. She’s great. I love her a lot.”

  “Then why are you acting so freaked out?” Gunnar was acting weirder than when Melanie was there, and that said a lot.

  “It’s just that . . . Well, you’ll understand in a minute or two.”

  When he saw that Mrs. Law was still fussing and hadn’t opened her door yet, Jeremy paused. He wanted to see what the big guy’s mother looked like. Gunnar was acting too weird, so Jeremy figured he had better be prepared for anything.

  But then he had to laugh when he saw her get out. Why, she was just a little thing. And, she looked pretty normal too, dressed as she was in jeans, a lavender sweater, and gold flats. She had shoulder length hair that was pulled into a ponytail. From a distance, she didn’t look much older than thirty or so.

  “She looks nice, Gunnar.”

  “She is. But get ready, buddy. My mom—well, my mother can be a lot.” Gunnar straightened his shoulders and walked down the steps. “Hey, Mama!”

  “Oh, Gunnar. Gunnar Alexander, look at you!” she exclaimed before hugging him tight. Then she even patted Gunnar on the arm, which was hysterical, since Mrs. Law only reached his collarbone.

  Feeling better, he slowly walked down the steps. He’d say hello and then go to his room.

  Yeah. That sounded like the right thing to do . . .

  “Jeremy!”

  Caught off guard, he froze. Then, feeling awkward, he smiled, raised his hand, and waved awkwardly. “Hi, Mrs. Law.”

  “No, no, no. I don’t want a wave,” she said as she waved him over. “Come give your new grandma a hug.”

  His new grandma? He barely had time to give Gunnar a “help me” look before she pulled him into a fierce hug. “Oh, Jeremy. Aren’t you wonderful?”

  Raising his hands, he kind of circled them around her and hung on, because she didn’t seem in any hurry to let him go. He was aware of the scent of sugar cookies and lemon and some kind of flowery perfume. The whole combination was intense, but not awful.

  She was, well, a lot. Gunnar had described his mother to a T, that was for sure.

  Just as Jeremy tried to crane his neck to look over at Gunnar in the hopes that he’d rescue him at last, Mrs. Law dropped her hands and stepped back.

  He exhaled.

  She might have been giving him space, but she was still staring at him like he was Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny rolled into one. “Oh, but you are so handsome,” she said. “Gunnar didn’t tell me that.”

  “Thanks?”

  “No need for thanks there. God gave you those looks, right?”

  “Right.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he just stood there and hoped he could move out of her reach soon.

  “Mama, I think you’re starting to scare the boy. Relax, would you?”

  She chuckled. “Sorry. Now, don’t worry. We’ll get to know each other real well soon. It’s going to be so wonderful.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”


  “Now, go help your dad bring in my suitcases. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Law looked around the yard. “Gunnar, you don’t have a dog yet, do you?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Good to know,” she said as she sailed right into the house.

  When the screen door closed with a snap behind her, Jeremy looked over at Gunnar. “Is she like that all the time?”

  “Nope. She gets quiet when she sleeps.”

  Jeremy couldn’t help it. He cracked up as he reached down and grabbed the handle on a giant purple roller bag. “I can’t believe you two are so different.”

  “I never needed to talk when she was around.” Picking up a tote bag and the handle on the other bag, he grunted. “Lord, but this is heavy. Be careful now.”

  “I’ve got it.” But the thing had to weigh over fifty pounds.

  “My mom tends to overpack. Always has, always will. My father used to say traveling with her was like bringing Kmart Supercenter on vacation. She seems to need everything on earth.”

  Jeremy slowly wheeled the bag toward the house, listening raptly to Gunnar. “What was your dad like?”

  “Quiet, like me. He loved her so much though. Always said she kept him on his toes. I promise, you’ll get used to her. She’s a lot, but she’ll grow on you.”

  “What did she mean about a dog?”

  Gunnar opened the door. “That, Jeremy, is a topic for another day.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He was thinking if he and Gunnar were a permanent thing, a dog added to the mix would be awesome.

  “I promise. You have no idea.”

  * * *

  Jeremy had expected Mrs. Law to be waiting for them in the entry way, but she wasn’t. “Where did she go?” he whispered, half-afraid she was going to bound out of a corner and hug him again.

  But this time, instead of looking pained, Gunnar grinned. “She’s in the kitchen. Come on, boy. This is going to knock your socks off.”

  Jeremy was too curious to even give him grief about the old-fashioned expression. He followed Gunnar through the living room, past the dining room, and then started smiling too. Because there was Mrs. Law with an apron on, already rooting around the pantry. And she had out a bag of chocolate chips.