Mel had to fight to keep her face straight. “Well, okay then. If you’re okay, I’m okay. So how long have you been at Westmeyer?”
“Since the end of last year just when the old dance teacher left. That’s when my teachers in public school told my dad I was too smart for them. He didn’t want them to move me up three grades due to peer pressure he felt a twelve-year-old couldn’t handle.”
“Ah, you mean like dating and stuff when you’re twelve and everyone else is sixteen?”
Nate’s lean cheeks, red from the cold, formed a smile. “That and drugs and alcohol. He said he wanted me to retain as much of my youth for as long as I could, because no matter how smart I was, physically and in some cases emotionally, I was still twelve, and I belonged in sixth grade like every other twelve-year-old. I’d just be in sixth grade with people who are as smart as me.”
Mel’s admiration for Drew upped ten notches. “Your dad’s a smart guy.”
“He’s very smart, and very protective, because of my mother and all. So I took a ton of tests to see if I qualified to get into Westmeyer’s scholarship program, and he took a job there to help pay for my tuition.”
Huh. She tucked her chin into her jacket, wincing at the sting of cold air to her eyes. “So you’re there on a partial scholarship?”
“Yep, and my dad made a deal with Dean Keller. He’d fix up all the stuff that was starting to fall apart for a smaller salary if Dean Keller would put the rest of his salary toward my tuition.”
Mel’s heart tightened at the thought. She grabbed the tray that held their burgers while Nate got their drinks and paid for the food.
Drew’s sacrifices for Nate knew no bounds, and his complexities grew.
God, he wasn’t just dreamy, but a terrific father. Thus, deeper, and deeper she fell.
They located the table Drew had chosen and plunked their food down. Mel slid in beside Drew, pressing up against him for warmth.
Drew doled out the food. “Your nose is red.”
“That’s because it’s ten degrees,” she said, snuggling up against him.
“No, it’s not,” Nate disagreed. “It’s forty-two degrees with a ten percent chance of precipitation. The winds are coming from the northeast at three miles per hour.” He bit into his burger with relish.
“So this is what it’s like to date a genius’s father?” Mel teased, dabbing a fry into a mound of ketchup.
Drew rubbed her cold hand with his and rolled his eyes at Nate.
“If you only knew the half of it.”
As they chatted and ate, despite the cold, Mel was warm with something as simple as a cheeseburger and the two men she was growing fonder of by the second.
Deep contentment and the simple things like having dinner together were sorely underrated. All of the money Stan made, all of the chef-prepared meals they’d shared, none of them had made her this happy.
“Hey.” Drew nudged her with a cold nose to her cheek. “Is that your phone?”
She dug in the pocket of her down jacket and pulled it out, seeing it was Jackie’s number. “It’s Jackie. I’ll call her back. We’re having dinner and not even Jackie’s important enough to ignore fries.”
“Go ahead,” Drew coaxed. “We’re almost done anyway.”
She popped another fry in her mouth and smiled at his understanding. “Hey, Jackie! Guess where I am? Freezing my butt off, eating hamburgers with Nate and Drew. I bet you can’t top that with your fancy vichyssoise soup and braised lamb chops with a balsamic glaze.”
Jackie’s familiar cackle shot to her ear. “Oh, don’t I wish. I’m eating canned ravioli while I help the whiners with homework, but Frank wanted me to call you.”
Mel’s heart jumped with a jolt to her chest. She’d been so busy thinking about Drew and getting the boys ready for their big debut, she’d forgotten about the reason for Jackie’s visit.
She hadn’t even mentioned it to Neil. Frank probably hadn’t been able to talk them into auditioning her and Jackie was calling to let her down easy. Bummer that. Yet, she found, she wasn’t as disappointed as she thought she’d be.
Mel pressed the phone to her cheek, burrowing into Drew’s embrace. “So you’re calling to let me down easy, eh? I love that you’re the kind of friend who’d call me personally to tell me I’m just not Celebrity Ballroom worthy. It was my jiggly butt that turned them off, right?” she joked, ignoring Drew’s look of disapproval.
“Hell no, that’s not why I’m calling. I’m calling you to tell you Frank wants your ass here in L. A. pronto for an on-camera audition!”
Chapter 17
Dear Divorce Journal,
Did you hear that? That was the roar of my own personal empowerment apocalypse.
Duck.
As Jackie droned on, Mel’s heart raced. “The studio’s all abuzz about you, kiddo. ’Bout shit their pants when they heard your name.” Jackie covered the phone with her hand then. “Yes, I said shit, Jaynie. I’m a crappy parent. If this is the worst I ever do to you, color yourself lucky your therapy bill will be small.” She came back on the line.
“Kids— all about the right and wrong. Anyway, next week’s Thanksgiving, but can you come over the weekend?”
Tingles of excitement swirled in the pit of her stomach. “You’re not serious!”
“As a virgin in a cathouse with a prepaid Visa, honey!”
“Oh, my God, Jackie! I can’t believe this. So what do I do next?”
Her. On Celebrity Ballroom. It was insane. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. She couldn’t breathe from her excitement.
“You check your e-mail on your father’s ancient computer for a ticket—courtesy of Frank and the studio— show up, and wow ’em. That’s it.”
She gripped Drew’s hand. “I can’t do this, Jackie. I’m not ready. I still jiggle. I mean, really jiggle. And my hair’s always a mess. Not to mention, I suddenly can’t remember a single dance step. Not one. And that guy Franz scares me. He’s so mean to all the faux-lebrities.”
Oh, God. She wasn’t just a has been, she was a forgetful one.
“That’s just nerves, sweet pea. Franz is a pussycat in real life. And quit worrying about dance moves. It’ll all come back to you, and they have all sorts of crap to stuff you in, smooth you out, lift you up. Don’t worry about any of that. Just be you, Mel. You’re beautiful. That’s all they want.”
Her. How ironic that suddenly she, old in terms of Hollywood, flabby and not even remotely star worthy was what the studio wanted.
“Okay, I’ve officially stopped breathing now, and I’m freezing. Oh, my God, Jackie! Thank you. Thank Frank. Thank the kid down the road—thank whoever’s responsible for cutting me this kind of a break.”
“You go finish dinner with your men, kiddo. I’ll catch you at the airport myself. E-mail me, honey—bye!”
Mel stared at the phone for a long moment, well after Jackie had hung up, unable to process the kind of turn her life had taken.
“Celebrity Ballroom. That’s major, Ms. Cherkasov,” Nate said, grinning. “You should be really proud. Aren’t you proud, Dad?”
“Very. How about we talk about this on the ride home? Mel’s going to lose her nose to frostbite if we don’t, and you have school tomorrow.”
She helped Drew and Nate clean up, then let Drew lead her to his truck, still in disbelief.
As they drove back to her father’s, Drew said, “You’re very quiet, Ms. Cherkasov.”
“It’s shock,” she said on a chuckle. “Can you believe my incredible luck?”
“I can,” Nate chimed in. “You’re an awesome dancer.”
“Thanks, Nate. You’re not too shabby yourself.” She slipped her hand into Drew’s, taking deep breaths.
The ride home was filled with chatter from Nate in the backseat, chatter she couldn’t process fully due to her excited panic. When they pulled up to her father’s, Drew jumped out to walk her to the door.
He pulled her into his embrace and gave her a quick kis
s under the glow of the outside lamp. “You go do girly stuff like scream and jump up and down, and I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”
Mel shook her head. “I just can’t believe it. Hey, thanks for tonight. I really enjoyed it.” She ran a hand over his chest with a smile.
“Well, chili cheeseburgers at Joe’s can’t top a gig on Star Ballroom.”
“Celebrity Ballroom, and says who?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He pecked her lips once more without much passion, but Mel chalked it up to Nate’s presence in the truck.
“You bet.” She turned to head in and called, “Night, Drew.”
But he’d already made his way down the path that led to the driveway.
“So cool about Ms. Cherkasov, right, Dad?” Nate said when he got back in the truck.
Drew fought his irrational thoughts and forced his tone to an even calm. “You bet.”
“She’d be so awesome. She’s a great dancer, and she’s always nice when she gives us critiques. Everybody will love her. Bet her Q-score goes through the roof.”
Lights from passing cars whizzed past him in a blur while he tried to focus on Nate’s words. “What’s a Q-score?”
“It’s how they rate her appeal to the television audience.”
“How interesting.”
Nate’s impatient sigh filled the car. “You don’t really mean that, Dad. You’re pretending to care.”
“I am not.” You are, too. “I’ve no doubt Mel’s Q will go through the roof.” It had with him. Why wouldn’t it with everyone else?
“It’s a ‘Q-score’ and I wonder if this means she’ll have to move to L. A. That’s where they tape. If she did that, I guess she’d have to leave Westmeyer. That would so suck. She’s the best teacher we’ve ever had.”
Drew clenched his teeth. Yeah. He wondered that, too.
“Ms. Cherkasov,” Drew rumbled in her ear from behind.
She shivered, his cologne resting in her nose and making her dizzy. It had been a week since they’d last made love, and she was anxious to get this cocktail party over so they could spend the night together while Nate was at Selena’s and before she had to leave for L. A. “Mr. McPhee?”
“I bring you spirits to dull the pain of watching Ms. Willows flirt with Dean Keller after only two glasses of wine.”
Mel giggled, turning on her heel to smile up into his face, taking the glass of red wine from him. “I dub thee my knight in pain needing dulling.”
“Have I told you, you look amazing tonight?”
Mel leaned into him, savoring the heat of his large frame and his sweet words. “I don’t remember you telling me, but I do remember you showing me just a snippet of how amazing I am when you tried to put your hand up my dress in the car.”
“Well, then let me make this right.” He leaned into her, his voice silky soft in her ear. “You look amazing, and if I don’t get you naked in the next thirty minutes or so, I can’t be held responsible for dragging you out into the hall, throwing that hot body of yours up against a locker and making love to you right there in the aforementioned hall. I need you. Soon.”
Mel’s breath shuddered and the sinful anticipation they’d built up all week long was threatening to boil over. She took a sip of her wine, running her tongue over the rim while she held his eyes.
“Well, then. Go make the rounds and hurry it up. We can’t afford to be fired because of our bad case of lust.”
He groaned, winking at her before moving away to mingle.
Mel watched him from the corner of the room, supple, sleek, so handsome he made her mouth dry. He was like some beautiful animal, feral and proud, and he had no idea how damn sexy he was.
“Hey, Mel!”
She was startled from her lustful thoughts when Gwen Timmons approached her, drink in hand. Oh, hell. She’d forgotten all about Gwen’s date with Neil. She was so wrapped up in her nerves about her audition and Drew, that she’d missed her workouts with him this week.
“Hey, Gwen. How went the date with Neil?”
Gwen’s face darkened just enough to cause a ripple of alarm in Mel, but then she said, “Oh, it was fine. I guess we just didn’t connect on all the right levels.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. He really is a great guy. Just hard to pin down.”
Gwen rocked back on her heels. “Harder than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
She waved a hand at Mel. “Nothing. Forget it. It just didn’t work out. No harm, no foul. I’m off to check out the new phys ed teacher.”
Gwen teetered off just as Drew came back across the room.
“I have to talk to Dean Keller, and then we’re outta here. Deal?”
She pouted. “But they have Triscuits and cheese in a can. I can’t believe you’d make me leave before they break them out.”
“I have something much better.” He wiggled his eyebrows and headed out of the staff lounge to the tune of her breathy sigh.
“Drew, please come in,” Dean Keller said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk.
Whatever Keller wanted, he’d better spit it out fast. Mel, in her almost but not quite low enough cleavage-revealing dress was setting his drawers on fire. He wanted those sexy legs ending with the nude pumps on her feet around his waist while he was buried balls deep in her— ASAP. “How can I help you, sir?”
“I have some bad news, Drew. I hate to do this— especially now that the holiday season has begun.”
He clenched his glass of cheap Scotch. “Is it Nate? Is everything all right?”
Keller shook his head, folding his lean hands together on top of the desk Drew had fixed just last week. “Nate’s fine, Drew. It’s his tuition.”
Drew shifted in discomfort. “Sir?”
“Tuition’s going up, Drew. The school can’t afford to pay you any more than they already do with budget cuts and so on. Next semester there’ll be a ten percent increase.”
His stomach dropped. “I don’t know that I can afford that, sir.”
“I figured you’d want to know. We value both you and Nate here at Westmeyer. Your work is meticulous, bar none. We’d hate to see you leave.”
“Then I’ll find a way.”
“You’re a good man, Drew. I know if there’s a way, you’ll find it.”
If Keller was right about anything, he was right about that.
He’d find it.
Somewhere.
“Hey, what did Dean Keller want?” Mel asked when he brought her coat.
He looked away and held out her jacket. “More things to fix. There’s always something in this creaky old place. So, you ready?”
“Hurry— get me out of here before Gwen does a stripper dance on the buffet table for Coach Gartner.”
Pulling on his own coat, he asked, “Things didn’t work out with Neil?”
She sighed in frustration. “No. Nothing ever works out with Neil. He’s just not a one-woman kind of guy.”
“Yeah. I didn’t get that vibe from him.” He took her hand and pulled her out of the staff lunchroom and into the deserted hall, flattening her against the wall to kiss her before she had the chance to ask him what he meant.
He made her forget everything when he slid his hand into her jacket and cupped her breast through the thin material of her dress. “Ahem. I think you’d better button your jacket and take me to your dungeon.”
Drew chuckled against her lips, the rigid press of his shaft noticeable. “At your command.”
They literally ran to his truck, hand in hand, the anticipation of some alone time magnifying their flight. Drew jumped into the truck, turned the ignition on to crank up the heat, and pulled her almost over the console to capture her lips in a fiery kiss. “Woman, you’re going to break me being so sexy. It was all I could do to keep my hands off you in there.”
Her breathing was shallow, and the place between her legs ached with heated need. “Well, now you don’t have to. So get this chariot moving, huh? The faste
r we arrive, the faster we can be naked.”
Drew took the wheel, leaving one hand on her thigh, and pulled out of the parking lot. The radio played something bluesy and soft, making Mel smile and close her eyes.
He trailed his fingers along her thigh, inching the skirt of her dress higher in slow, agonizing increments. When he reached the top of her thigh-high nylons, he cleared his throat, tracing the ridge of them, skimming beneath them to tease her flesh.
Her nipples tightened to sharp peaks, hard and ready for his mouth. The vision of his head bent at her breast made a soft moan escape her lips.
Drew’s fingers whispered over her flesh again and again until they reached his apartment complex, teasing her, torturing her with anticipation. It was a race to see who could fling open the door and reach his apartment door first.
They were both laughing and out of breath when he jammed the key in the door, dragged her inside, and slammed it shut without bothering to turn the lights on.
Instantly, his hands were on her, lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist. “Christ, I want you, Mel,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear while he flipped his shoes off and settled them on the couch.
She bracketed each side of his face with her hands, driving her fingers into his hair, and pulled him down for a kiss, relishing his heavy weight on top of her. The thick press of his cock, hard and insistent, made her lift her hips to grind against him with a level of desperate need that was bigger than the last.
Clothes came off in a heated rush until her hands were on his bare chest and he was dragging her dress up and over her head.
He stopped cold when he realized she had no panties on, only a garter and some thigh-high nylons. His appreciation was a thick groan.
Mel reached down to unsnap them, but his hand was quick to thwart her as he hauled her to him, their chests pressing tightly together. “Don’t you dare take those off. You had no panties on all night and I had no idea. I think punishment is in order,” he ground out against her mouth, thumbing her hard nipples.
Waltz This Way (Ex-Trophy Wives Book 3) Page 25