Save the Last Dance

by Jami Davenport

  Ramon started to open his mouth. After one blistering look from Rico, he promptly shut it.

  “Ramon, you’re the company’s biggest star.” God, he hated to admit that. “You need to finish your next CD, yesterday. Understand?”

  “Uh huh.” Ramon nodded, swallowing nervously. He glanced at their father. A little thrill of triumph ran through Rico. This wasn’t going the way Ramon and Ed had planned.

  He hadn’t wanted this company, but he was stuck with it. He’d be damned if he was letting it go under without a fight. Besides, it’d take him down with it.

  “Regarding the information I need, I expect everything to be emailed or delivered to my house by 8:00 P.M. tonight. Are there any questions?” Several heads shook solemnly. A slow smile crept across Rico’s face. For the first time in years, he felt good about the direction he was heading, even if he didn’t have a clue what direction that actually was. At least, he controlled his destiny.

  Mariah would have been proud of him.

  Rico rose to his feet and left the room. He strode down the hall and out of the building. Damn, taking control was pretty empowering. Unfortunately, that good feeling evaporated once he climbed behind the wheel of his little sports car. His mind drifted back to a certain green-eyed beauty. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he’d last seen her.

  God, he missed her.

  * * *

  A few weeks later, Rico sat on his patio, strumming his guitar. He’d finished the song he’d started in the San Juans. Discovery was a song about loving and losing, finding yourself again, and changing your priorities. A bittersweet feeling filled him. This song was a winner, perhaps his best. He’d never have written it if it hadn’t been for Mariah.

  Recording on his tablet, Rico sang the song from beginning to end. As he strummed the last note on his guitar, applause erupted behind him. He jerked around in his chair, scowling. His sister and brother stood behind him. Rico reached over and jabbed at the stop button.

  “Angel, don’t you ever knock?” He turned on Ramon. “And you. You aren’t welcome here.”

  “Nice to see you, too, big brother. Man, that song’s incredible. Did you just write that?”

  “None of your business. Now, get lost.” Rico stood to his full height. He painted his best menacing expression on his face and stalked toward Ramon. Ramon didn’t flinch when Rico stopped inches from him.

  “I came to talk business.”

  “Fine, talk and make it fast. You have—” Rico consulted his watch. “Five minutes. Starting now.”

  “I’m almost done with the CD, but I need one more song.” Ramon indicated the tablet. “I think I just found it.”

  Rico stiffened. “I think you’d better keep looking.”

  “Why? Are you going to record it?” Ramon’s question drilled down through the animosity and struck a nerve.

  What was he going to do with Discovery? Record it himself? Let someone else record it? Shop it around? He didn’t know.

  He’d just written a blockbuster song with no idea who would sing it.

  * * *

  Over the next few months, Rico dived into his new business venture with the determination of an obsessed man. He hustled new recording artists by using his contacts and innate charm to sign promising young talent and established talent that needed a fresh approach. His new company received quite a bit of press, especially on the Latin and European markets. He seemed to be regaining the respect of his peers. Very few doors were closed to him.

  He attended all the best parties to expand and reestablish his connections. Those parties required a female escort. That wasn’t a problem. There were plenty of women available to him. No matter how beautiful and no matter how much he needed a little sex, he went home alone at the end of every night.

  His self-imposed celibacy needed to stop, but he wasn’t ready to sleep with another woman. Not yet. As soon as he found a woman who turned him on as much as Mariah, he’d invite her home. He just needed more time. Replacing such an exceptional woman wouldn’t be easy. If he could ever replace her.

  He worked sixteen-plus hours a day, seven days a week. Angel took over the main management of the import business, but Rico kept a hand in it, and Ed out of it as much as possible.

  He dialed Mariah’s cell on several occasions but always hung up before it rang. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t contact her. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Mariah was the type of woman who gave herself heart and soul to a man forever. She deserved a man who could return that love.

  He was holding his iPhone, contemplating another phone call when Angel burst into his house.

  “Rico, why didn’t you join us tonight for Ramon’s birthday dinner?” “Us” meant his father and his latest chickie baby, his obnoxious brother and his woman d’ jour, and Angel. No thanks. He didn’t think he could fake being pleasant for two hours, especially to Ramon.

  “I forgot about it.”

  “Liar.” She moved over to his stereo and plugged her own phone into it. Rico watched her with detached interest.

  “What’s that?”

  “Ramon’s next hit. It’s gonna rock the charts.”

  “Really?” His ears perked up.

  “Don’t say a word until you listen to the whole thing. Insignia plans to release it next month.”

  “Next month? And I haven’t heard it yet?” Somehow, they’d snuck that one by him. Heads were going to roll for that oversight.

  Angel held a finger up to her lips. “Be quiet, or I won’t play it for you.”

  Rico sighed and pursed his lips. The song started playing. It sounded eerily familiar. Then the singing started. “Wait, that’s....”

  “Shhhh. Just listen.”

  He did listen, at first in anger then in awe. Ramon crooned the first verse backed up by a haunting melody and strong, powerful chorus. His brother owned that song. He put his distinctive stamp on it and made it his. No one else could have sung that song with such feeling and emotion. As the song ended in much the way it started, goose bumps rose on Rico’s arms while a lump formed in his throat. He wiped a lone tear from his eye. Speechless, he stared at Angel.

  She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Well?”

  He slammed back to reality like a skydiver without a parachute. “That little bastard stole my song.”

  “No, he didn’t. Your name’s on the credits as songwriter. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I never gave that song to him.”

  “Of course you didn’t. We took it. Remember that video you made? I sent the video to my phone.”

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Were you going to sing it?”

  “No, I— No.”

  “You have to admit he sings it beautifully.”

  Rico wasn’t admitting to anything. “You tricked me.”

  Angel laughed. “So sue yourself. You own the recording company.”

  * * *

  For the first two weeks after he left, Mariah broke into tears over the smallest things.

  She tried to keep busy by immersing herself in work. Yet, every time the phone rang or someone knocked on the door, she leapt to her feet, hoping it was him. It wasn’t him. He never called. He wouldn’t call. In all fairness, she hadn’t left the door open for him to contact her. She’d slammed it shut.

  She’d been another summer romance to him. That was all. Yet, deep down inside, she knew it had been more than that. She hadn’t imagined the connection between them. Perhaps, the intensity of it had been too much for him. Heaven knows, it had been too much for her on several occasions. But he’d lied to her from day one, betrayed that connection they had in the worst way. Could she ever trust a man like that?

  Now, months later, she sat in Eva’s living room, drinking tea and looking for answers. What Eva lacked in the fortune-telling department, she more than made up for with unsolicited advice. Right now, Mariah even welcomed that.

  “Six months, Eva. Six long months. Shouldn’t I be get
ting over him by now?”

  “Not if it isn’t over yet.”

  “He’s dating models and movie stars—celebrities. Even if I wanted to, I can’t compete with women like that.” Compete? In order to compete, she had to be in the game, and she’d walked out of the ballpark months ago.

  “They have nothing on you.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. Like a couple more inches in the right places.”

  “You’re not exactly flat, honey. And yours are real.”

  “Well, since he’s asking them out and not me, I’d say they have quite a bit on me.”

  “Your paths will cross again.”

  “He lied to me. He told me what I wanted to hear so he could get what he wanted.”

  “Sometimes deception is necessary for the greater good. His motives were sincere. If you’d known from the beginning who he was, would you have given him a chance?”

  “Of course not. With his reputation?”

  “How do you know it’s deserved? Did you ever give him the opportunity to explain his side? Rico’s a good man, Mariah. Trust your instincts on that.”

  “My instincts sucked with Warren.”

  “No, they didn’t. You refused to listen to them. Rico’s biggest faults and greatest strengths are being loyal and honorable. Our society doesn’t often reward those traits.”

  Mariah sighed. Sometimes Eva annoyed the snot out of her. The cold, bitter truth was that Rico hadn’t let any grass grow under his feet. She needed to do the same. Get out more, start dating, try out what he taught her on some other men. Sounded good, right? Except for one small problem. She didn’t want any other man. She wanted Rico. How stupid was that? The man lied to her and used her for his plaything. He deserved his reputation in every way, shape, and form. Well, at least she hadn’t heard from Warren in months. Obviously, his threats had been idle ones with no substance behind them. He must have moved on to another victim.

  * * *

  When Jamal suggested Mariah escort one of his friends to a Seattle charity event, Mariah’s first inclination was to say no. That very same day, she saw a picture of Rico with a super model at a Hollywood party. She quickly reversed her decision. It’d be fun to go out with a good-looking jock. Wouldn’t it?

  Now that she stood in the jock’s hotel room, she questioned her sanity. Matt Larsen didn’t seem to notice her nervousness, but then he hadn’t noticed much all night when it came to her. He’d been too busy posturing for the cameras as he hauled her around like his personal Barbie doll. Despite his arrogance, she’d agreed to go to his room. The time to get over Rico had long since passed.

  Matt started removing his clothes, his expectations clear. Mariah swallowed hard and reached back to unzip her little black dress. Her sweaty hands shook and she couldn’t seem to grasp the zipper.

  Taking two long strides, Matt invaded her personal space. Of course, by the time the night was over, he’d be invading more than that. Reaching around behind her, he ran his fingers down her spine. She shivered from fear, but he probably assumed it was excitement.

  “Let me help you with that,” he whispered in a gravelly voice. Mariah iced up as his large hands pulled the zipper downward. Her tight dress loosened immediately. Matt leaned forward and nibbled her neck. Squeezing her butt, he pulled her against him. His erection pressed against her stomach. She stiffened. All her old panic, fears, and doubts flooded her mind like a broken water main flooding the street.

  Mariah fought the urge to wrench away from his touch. She held her breath, hoping he mistook her frozen state for anticipation instead of dread. He nipped at her neck. Instead of moaning with desire, she yelped with discomfort.

  “Hey, help me out a little here. You act like you’re hating every minute of this.” Matt’s annoyance came through loud and clear.

  “I’m...I’m just a little nervous.”

  Matt’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “About what? There’s no way you’re a virgin. You’re too old.” Matt slid the dress down lower. Mariah pulled it up and moved away from him.

  “I’m not a virgin. I’m just not ready for this.”

  “What? Not ready. What the hell are you talking about? You’ve been flirting with me all night, teasing me. What kinda game are you playing, lady?”

  “None, I promise. I’m sorry. I can’t... I just can’t.” Mariah grabbed her coat and threw it on, not taking the time to zip her dress. Matt glowered at her in disgust. Sulking, his ego injured, he let her go.

  Standing on the curb in the pouring rain, Mariah waited for a taxi. By the time one drove by, she looked like a drowned rat in evening clothes. Flopping into the back seat, she gave the driver instructions to her hotel.

  She didn’t know who she was maddest at: Matt, Rico, or herself. Matt had lived up to her expectations as a jerk, yet she’d still gone to his room. So whose fault was that? Hers.

  Rico had lied to her, left her with a broken heart, and inadvertently caused a situation where she didn’t want any other man. But whose fault was that? Hers, again.

  So that brought her to the person she was maddest at: herself. Maybe she’d just swear off men altogether and join a convent, except she wasn’t Catholic.

  She cursed herself for being so gullible and stupid. It wasn’t Rico’s fault she’d fallen in love with the first man who ever made her feel like an exciting, desirable woman.

  She felt a cold, dull ache surrounded by emptiness.

  The next day the gossip rags contained pictures of Matt Larsen escorted by a Seattle interior designer.

  Chapter 14—The Ex

  Mariah turned Sueño loose in his pasture. Walking back to the barn, she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard steps behind her. Maybe Rico couldn’t live without her and had returned to beg her forgiveness and sweep her off her feet.

  As she turned to greet her guest, her welcoming smile froze on her face. “Warren,” she said in a flat wary tone.

  Warren stood a few feet away wearing his usual predatory smile and confident manner. His carefully toned body filled out his silk shirt and slacks perfectly. His blond hair and handsome face provided a stark contrast to the coldness in his ice gray eyes. Practiced mannerisms and impeccable manners hid the ruthless businessman lurking beneath the surface. “My dear, you don’t sound too happy to see me.”

  “I’m never happy to see you.”

  “Okay, let’s drop the niceties.” His eyes grew colder, if that was possible. “I want this farm.”

  Mariah sighed wearily. “We’ve been over this. Aunt Rose left the farm to me. It’s mine to do with as I please. I’m not selling.”

  “You’re a fool, Mariah. This property is worth millions. We could develop it.”

  “And break it up into small little lots? Clear cut it? Fill the cove with a marina? Destroy everything? My parents and aunt wanted it preserved. They wanted it to stay in my family.” She tried one last time to reason with him. “I’ll never sell it to the likes of you to be developed.”

  He laughed bitterly. “So the spoiled, perfect daughter and niece saves the farm from the evil, greedy attorney?”

  “If you want to put it that way.”

  “Mariah, you’re a dumb, trusting bitch.”

  Mariah took a deep breath and gathered up her courage. “Maybe it’s time for you to leave.”

  “You’re right. I am wasting my time with you.” He handed her the large envelope he’d held in his hand, a calculating gleam in his eye. “Go ahead, open it.”

  With trembling fingers, Mariah opened the envelope. She stared at the legal papers, flipping through them. A cold knife sliced through her gut. “I don’t understand. What is this?”

  “Your aunt didn’t have health insurance. Where do you think she got the money for her cancer treatments and operations especially considering she was already in a financial bind?”

  The horrible truth slammed into Mariah, and she grabbed the top rail of the fence to steady herself. “You loaned it to her?”

  Warren nodd
ed. “She signed over half of the farm to me for a pittance, and I paid off her debts. The rest of the money she needed was in the form of a loan. Hundreds of thousands of dollars with the other half of this farm as collateral and everything on it.”

  “No. No. She couldn’t have done that.”

  “We were a loving couple at that time, remember? And your aunt was a hopeless romantic.”

  “She never thought you’d collect.” She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. A cold fear rippled through her. She’d have felt warmer swimming in the Arctic.

  “No, she didn’t. She thought we’d be married and the land would be saved for all posterity.”

  Mariah stared at the loan agreement. The amount of money her aunt borrowed from Warren staggered her. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” Warren took a menacing step closer.

  “Even if I did, you’d still own half.”

  “Actually 51 percent.”

  Mariah shook her head in disbelief. “This place is worth so much more.”

  “The balloon payment is due today.”

  “Today? I can’t get this kind of money today.” She didn’t know how she’d get it a year from today. “Why is this the first I heard about this?”

  “I’ve been sending certified notices for months to your aunt’s PO Box.”

  “They were addressed to her. I couldn’t sign for them.” Plus, she’d done the Scarlett thing again. She’d assumed they were from bill collectors and didn’t deal with them.

  “Poor, poor, Mariah. I’m so sorry. I guess it got overlooked by your aunt’s attorney, but I’m afraid ignorance isn’t an excuse.”

  “Your partner handled my aunt’s estate.”

  “Oh, Mike? Too bad he’s out of the country now. You have no recourse.”

  “What about the summer camp on this property for emotionally disturbed kids that my great-grandparents started?”

  “Their lease expires in a year. It won’t be renewed.”