Maggie (Tales Behind the Veils)

by Violet Howe

  “That’s generally how attraction works, Mags.”

  “I don’t want to be attracted to him!”

  “Sounds like it might be too late for that. Why not explore it? See where it takes you. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

  I sighed and lay back against the headrest as I stared at the dotted line in the beam of my headlights.

  “You have to ask?”

  “Look, I know you had a rough break. No one deserves what happened to you, and no one can fault you for being gun shy. But I say twenty-six years is long enough. You’re not getting any younger. Maybe it’s time to take a chance, and if this guy’s as special as you describe him, you might not want to pass him up.”

  “Gee, thanks. Nothing says reassurance like telling me I’m getting old and this may be my last prospect.”

  She laughed. “That’s not what I said. Hell, I haven’t even met the guy. But the way you talk about him, I hear something in your voice that tells me this one’s different.”

  “He is different. That’s what worries me. I don’t want to give up my independence.”

  “Who said you have to? It’s only lunch.”

  “Yeah, and only lunch leads to only dinner which leads to only more than I want to deal with. I like my life. I like being able to do whatever I want whenever I want.”

  “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. Why does going to lunch with the cowboy mean you can’t do what you want to do? Don’t over think it.”

  I groaned and wished matters of the heart weren’t so complicated.

  “Look, Maggie, if you enjoy being around him, then be around him. If you get to a point where you don’t enjoy it, then don’t. Part of being independent and being able to choose what you want to do with your time is that if you want to share it with someone, you can. It doesn’t make you less independent if you get pleasure from being with someone else.”

  “Oh, really? Look at your life,” I said. “You’re uprooting your business that you’ve spent years building to follow Hannah to Orlando.”

  “Yes, because I choose to. She’s my partner, and I want what’s best for her. I believe this opportunity will not only enhance Hannah’s career but also improve both our lives in the long run. Besides, it gets me closer to you!”

  “Don’t get me wrong—I’m thrilled that you’re moving closer, and I’m happy for Hannah. But you’re making your decisions based on her life. I don’t think I want to be in that position again. Where I’m giving up my own dreams and my own security for someone else. I think I’m better off on my own.”

  “First of all, I’m not giving up my dreams. I’m still going to do the job I love, but in a different city. Plus, she and I made these decisions together. It was a mutual decision for the life we’ve built together. But hey, if you don’t want to date, don’t date. Call the guy up, tell him you’re not interested, and you don’t ever have to see him again.”

  Disappointment washed over me at the thought of never seeing Dax Pearson again. Of never looking in his eyes, or seeing his mouth break into that grin that melts my insides, or hearing the deep, rich rumble of his voice. I couldn’t deny that I wanted to know what it was like to be held in his arms. To have his mouth on mine and feel the touch of his hands on my skin.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slow, fighting my body’s immediate response to my train of thoughts.

  It had to be hormones out of control. It couldn’t be normal to react so strongly to the mere thought of intimacy.

  “You still there?” Sandy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  She paused, and I struggled to find the words to express everything I was feeling.

  “It’s okay to be scared, Mags.” Her voice was quiet, somber and soothing. “It’s okay to be cautious. But it’s also okay to feel. To want to be with someone. To be attracted.”

  I nodded even though she had no way of seeing me. I didn’t trust my voice to speak without betraying the depth of my emotions.

  “I tell you what,” she said, “Alberto will be back stateside in two weeks. I’ll come down to O-town, and the three of us will go out. We’ll come up with pros and cons and decide what you should do. Okay? We can even invite this cowboy along. We’ll grill him if you want.”

  “No! Absolutely not.” I laughed.

  “C’mon! We know what you need, and we can ask him all the tough questions and let you know if he passes. Then you have nothing to worry about.”

  “Thanks, but no. If I do decide to go out with him again, I don’t need the two of you making him run the other way.”

  “I think you already decided. You just have to be okay with the decision.”

  I turned on my blinker as I approached the exit and thanked my lifelong friend for always being there. If only love could be as steadfast in romance as it is in friendship.

  17 CLOSET RAID

  Her words continued to replay in my head as I navigated the busy streets of Orlando to make my way home. My thoughts drifted back to another time I’d been caught up in attraction, and unfortunately, I’d completely ignored Sandy’s advice then.

  I After the day we spent on the yacht, Gerry and I were inseparable. Every waking moment, he was at the forefront of my mind. It was the first time I ever knew what it was like not to be consumed by thoughts of dance.

  “What are you doing?” Sandy asked as I raided her closet for the third time that week. “How can you just keep missing rehearsals like this?”

  I shrugged. “Gerry talked to Ernesto and told him it doesn’t make any sense for me to sit there while you guys rehearse. I mean, obviously, when my foot heals a little, I can probably do more, so I’ll come back then. Right now, I’m having fun. For the first time since I was eight years old, I don’t have to be at rehearsal every day. I don’t have to spend every waking hour practicing dance. I’m enjoying my life. What’s so wrong with that?”

  “But you love dance.” She picked at a loose thread on her comforter as she lay on her stomach and watched me try on her clothes.

  “Yes, but I’ve discovered there’s also a lot of other things in life that I love.”

  “Like my clothes?”

  I turned to the side in the mirror so I could see her reflection. “Your clothes are much cooler than mine. My clothes are all boring. You know that. Does this make my waist look fat?”

  Sandy groaned. “You don’t have an ounce of fat on your body. But you will, if you keep eating out every night without exercising.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her and twisted to see the back of the dress, pleased at the way it hugged my sculpted rear end.

  “Maybe I’ll go shopping. You want to go shopping with me?”

  “When? I have rehearsals. Daily. I have a performance coming up. Remember that life?”

  “Yeah. I remember. Oh! I gotta go. I didn’t realize what time it was. Gerry has a car picking me up downstairs.”

  “How does he afford all this when he never works?”

  “He works. He works every morning, and he sometimes has meetings or phone conferences in the afternoons. His work is with theaters all over the world, so he can call them from any hotel room and conduct his meetings. It’s not like he needs an office for that.”

  “Okay, but where does he live? You said he came to town to meet with Ernesto and he’s been staying in a hotel. How long is he here? Doesn’t he have a house to get back to?”

  I gathered my makeup off her counter and checked my lipstick in the mirror one more time. “He has an apartment in New York, which I told you the last time you and Alberto grilled me about this. He’s only staying here to make sure the show gets up and running. And to spend more time with me!” I laughed as I said it, my joy bubbling over despite Sandy’s dark outlook. “Thanks so much for loaning me the dress. I’ll go shopping and get my own clothes soon, and then you can borrow them any time you want, okay?”

  I kissed her on the top of the he
ad and clopped my way to the front door with the boot on one foot and a white sandal on the other.

  “Be careful, Mags. Don’t lose yourself over this guy, okay?” Sandy called from the bedroom as I opened the front door.

  “You worry too much!” I yelled back. “I’m happy. Let me be happy! Love ya. Bye.”

  18 MONEY TALKS

  Gerry was all too happy to go shopping with me the next day, picking out clothes and bringing them to the dressing room for me to try on and model for him. I could tell immediately which ones were hits by the desire in his eyes and the sly grin he wore.

  “You’re trying to push me over the limits of what a man can endure, Willow,” he said when I emerged from the dressing room in a see-through black lace number that dipped almost to my tail bone in the back.

  He stood and came to me, walking like a lion toward his prey. I shuddered with a grin and took a step back into the dressing room, giggling as he walked inside with me and closed the door behind him.

  We’d moved past the ceremonial first kiss that day on the yacht, and each day after that, our passion had continued to grow and become more physical. I knew I would have to make a decision soon, and I think I had already made it, despite my assurances to Sandy that I was not going there.

  Gerry slid the black lace over my shoulder, bending his head and sinking his teeth lightly into my bared skin. I squealed loudly, and the dressing room attendant knocked on the door.

  “Excuse me? Um, we only allow one person in the dressing room. Sir, you’re not allowed in here. Sir?”

  I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing out loud, but when he dipped his teeth lower to playfully bite my nipple through the lace, I cried out in pleasure, no longer interested in laughing.

  She walked away, and I raked my fingernails through his long curls as he unfastened my bra and freed both breasts for the taking.

  He knelt before me, sliding the black lace dress down over my hips as his mouth followed his fingers. By the time the attendant returned with the store manager to knock on the door again, I had learned the power of the human tongue and what depths of madness it can take you to.

  I dressed quickly and we left the store in laughter, neither of us caring that they asked us never to return.

  If I’d had my regular routine—if I’d been surrounded by my tight circle of friends instead of being removed from everything my life had been—then who knows? Maybe I wouldn’t have fallen so hard so fast. Maybe things wouldn’t have progressed at such an insane rate of speed.

  But I’d lived my entire life in such a sheltered bubble. I knew nothing about the real world, and my days with Gerry were like living in a fantasy existence. He made his calls and took meetings in the morning, but by late morning or sometimes early afternoon, he’d send the car to pick me up and we’d set off for the day, often not returning until the wee hours of the night.

  My life became a whirlwind of social activity, often accompanied by Gerry’s myriad of elite friends who treated Miami like their own personal playground. We brunched in South Beach, we spent the day poolside in the sun or out on a yacht, and we dined by candlelight at one of Miami’s most exclusive eateries or sat in reserved booths at the most popular nightclubs.

  It’s embarrassing to think of how naive I was and how caught up in my own ego I became. So easily wooed with empty words and too easily impressed by his attentiveness.

  The sudden lifestyle change was intoxicating, but it was his touch that did me in.

  Gerry awakened something primal within me, both physically and emotionally, and I was like an addict, always wanting more. He could leave me breathless with just a smoldering gaze, and as much as I enjoyed the party atmosphere of his friends, I began to crave the stolen moments alone.

  It was all uncharted territory for me, but I was emboldened by the desire I saw in his eyes to push the limits of my newfound sex appeal. It was fiery and intense, and he never failed to whip me into a frenzy with kisses so intimate and hands so adept they left my heart bared for the taking.

  I was certain it was love. Head-over-heels, out-of-control, throw-all-caution-to-the-wind love.

  It would have seemed almost perfect, had it not been for the ever-present pain in my foot made worse by ignoring doctor’s orders and the often almost paralyzing fear about what my absence and injury would mean for my role with the dance company.

  Gerry refused to let me give in to either pain or worry, bolstering me at the least sign of distress from either.

  “What do you need? Are you hurting? Here, sit, sit,” he’d say, snapping his fingers for someone to bring me a stool for my foot. Water, food, ice—whatever I needed appeared within seconds.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head at all, Willow,” he’d croon. “They cannot get rid of you. I won’t allow it. Do you have any idea how much they need my money? I’m bankrolling everyone’s paychecks. They know you’re with me, and they can’t touch you.”

  I cringe at the memory of his words now, but at the time, they elevated my sense of importance and comforted my fears. It’s frightening how much I allowed him to change me in such a short amount of time.

  I became more confident and more self-assured, and any doubts I may have harbored about deserving my prime position opposite Alberto vanished.

  Under Gerry’s nourishing care of my ego, I quickly came to believe that I was the most deserving dancer in the company, and the season certainly would not go on if I wasn’t allowed to return.

  “Nina?” I sneered when Alberto told me over lunch who had replaced me in the upcoming performance. “Ha. She’s not ready. She doesn’t bring the chemistry that you and I have. That’s ridiculous. Gerry says Benjamin shouldn’t even be rehearsing the next show until the doctor releases me and I’m able to perform.”

  “Not rehearsing?” Alberto drew his eyebrows together and frowned. “Maggie, we can’t stop rehearsals because you’re not there. You know that. We’re rehearsing multiple shows based on the stager’s schedules. The entire company has to keep working.”

  “Gerry says it shouldn’t.”

  “Well, Gerry isn’t a director. Or a dancer. He may have money, but Gerry knows nothing about ballet.”

  I flinched at the venom he used when he said Gerry’s name. I knew Alberto wasn’t fond of my new love, though I didn’t have a clue why. In my eyes, Gerry had been nothing but wonderful to me, and I couldn’t fathom why my best friend would speak of him with such disdain.

  “Maybe not, but his money is bankrolling the show. So that pretty much makes him the boss, doesn’t it? If Gerry says the season can’t go on without me, then it won’t. I thought you’d be on my side. I’m a little hurt.”

  I stuck my bottom lip out in a pout, which I had quickly learned would bring Gerry to his knees begging to set my world right.

  Alberto’s reaction was less than concerned. Thank God he’d known me long enough to forgive me for that period of time in our relationship. It’s a true testament to our friendship that he even still speaks to me after the way I acted back then. The decisions I made.

  “For the love, Maggie, it’s not that I’m not on your side. But you’re being a bit unrealistic, don’t you think? You’re going out partying or off to dinner every night, and you think we’re going to sit around doing drills? Waiting for you to grace us with your presence?”

  I leaned across the table and sneered at him. “I. Am. Injured. Why does no one other than Gerry seem to care about that?”

  “We care! But it’s a broken toe. It happens. Christ, it’s happened to you, what, three times now? You certainly didn’t stop working before.”

  My mouth dropped open in indignant shock. “You heard the doctor say this break is worse than the first two. You heard him say I had to stay off my foot or risk permanent injury. How dare you!”

  “Yes, but you’re not staying off your foot. You’re traipsing all over Miami and going out on yachts for Christ’s sake. You haven’t even showed up at the stud
io for the past three weeks.”

  “Ernesto excused me—”

  “Ernesto excused you, but Benjamin didn’t. He hasn’t complained about you not showing up at all because he’s under pressure from Ernesto to keep Gerry happy, but you could still be there. You could be going through stretches. Through notes. You could still be immersing yourself in the work and hearing stage directions and guidance from our director. You’re not on vacation.”

  I slapped my hands on the table, unable to believe I was being treated so unfairly by my so-called best friend. “You’re dancing with Nina! What do you care whether or not I’m there, sitting in a chair taking notes?”

  Alberto ran his fingers through his blond hair in a motion of frustration so incredibly familiar to me but not usually caused by me.

  “What happened to you, Maggie? What has he done to you? I don’t even know who you are. It’s like these last few weeks, you’ve just disappeared. I don’t know who this is in front of me,” he gestured toward me with both hands, “but it’s not the same girl I knew.”

  At the time, I brushed off his words, gathering my purse and storming out of the restaurant as best as someone can storm in a hobble.

  I called Gerry in tears as soon as I got home, and he was by my side within the hour, wrapping me in his arms and assuring me that Alberto was out of line. That Alberto was jealous of my talent and of my budding career that seemed likely to surpass his own.

  It was all nonsense, of course. Alberto had been one of my most faithful friends for years, and I could always rely on him to give it to me straight and to look out for my best interests, then and now.

  But that night, I didn’t listen to the right voice in my ear.

  “My sweet Willow, your friend is right,” Gerry whispered as he held me and covered my face in soft kisses. “You are not the same girl he knew. You have blossomed into a beautiful woman, and he is unable to see you for who you’ve become. He’s still limited by who you were.” He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand and gently tucked my hair behind my ear. “He doesn’t see what I see. He doesn’t appreciate how incredible you are. He can’t help that he’s held back by his own shortcomings. You really should be with someone more talented to showcase your abilities.” He sat up and gathered my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “Do you want me to have him fired? I can, you know.”