Charlie smiled. “Miles, I’d like you to meet John Rodriguez, the principal over at the high school.”
They shook hands. Miles asked, “Did you take over for Mr. McNeill?”
He nodded. “Seven years ago, when he retired. Charlie’s told me some great things about you. You were in the Army, right?”
“I was, more than eight years of service.”
“I know this may be forward of me, but would you consider coming over to the high school while you’re here and talking to some of the seniors about the option of choosing the Army after graduation? I know it’s a difficult choice to make given the current political climate, but for some of these kids, I think it could make a huge difference in their futures.”
“Well, I know it did for me. I’d be happy to speak with them and answer any questions they may have.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” John said. “Here’s my card. Call me when it’s convenient, and we’ll set up a time. Charlie, good to see you, as always.”
“Likewise, John.”
“He seems like a good sort,” Miles said.
“He’s great. Best thing that ever happened to the school.”
“McNeill was a narrow-minded ass.”
“Well, I think you’re a little biased, but I have to admit I agree with you. Never liked that man.”
“I can’t believe I’ve been asked to go back and talk to the kids to encourage them rather than be an example of what not to do.” It really did stun him, this illustration of how much he had changed. Maybe things in town which hadn’t changed didn’t matter after all.
“Can I say I told you so?”
Miles sighed dramatically. “Yeah, you’ve earned it.”
“Told you so.”
The two men laughed, finished their lunch and shared a piece of apple pie that Fanny brought over without even asking.
Miles had a list of things he planned to do, but he was halfway from his car to the door to the gym before he realized he had driven over without thinking about it. He sent up a grateful prayer of thanks that he didn’t get into an accident while driving distracted, and decided as long as he was here, he was going to see Jillian. Clearly it was what he wanted.
He waved to Leslie, who was treating a caller to her chipper voice, and headed to Jillian’s office. When he didn’t find her there, he checked next door, looked though the glass window and what he saw took his breath away. There, wearing a simple black leotard, footless tights and toe shoes, was the dancer he remembered.
Opening the door as quietly as he could, he slipped into the studio. The music covered any noise he might have made. He stayed in the corner, hoping she wouldn’t notice his reflection in the mirror and knowing on some level her own concentration would keep her from seeing him.
It was for moments like this that someone coined the phrase “poetry in motion.” Years of training and passion showed in her movements. She was grace and beauty, her body not only dancing to the music, but to an inner muse who inspired her. He could stand there and watch her for hours. While enjoying her performance, it was hard for him to believe she wasn’t able to do this professionally, and he ached for the loss of her dream. As she leapt into the air, he found himself holding his breath. She came down silently and held the pose as the music ended. He couldn’t stop himself from applauding.
Jillian looked up startled, then smiled beautifully. “What a lovely surprise,” she said.
“I’m only sorry I don’t have roses to throw to you. I can’t believe I forgot how lovely you look when you dance.”
She pirouetted over to him and gave him a kiss once she was in his arms. Looking into his eyes, her smile faded. “What’s wrong? You look upset. Is it about the fires? Did you find something out?”
“No, nothing like that. It may sound strange, but I was feeling sad for you.”
“For me?”
“You dance so incredibly well. It seems wrong you’re here and not with a major company performing for packed houses.” Her eyes filled with tears, and he pulled her closer. “Oh, hummingbird, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Are you kidding? I’m crying because you’re the first one who did.”
That didn’t make any sense to him. The accident was years ago. “How can I be the first?”
“When I learned a few days into my hospital stay that a professional dance career was out of the question, people said, ‘You’ll find something else,’ or ‘Don’t worry, it will all work out.’ At least that’s what I heard from the well-meaning people. My favorite came from my dad, who simply said, ‘Maybe this is for the best.’ No one ever acknowledged the loss with me. They wanted me to feel better, not understanding that first I needed to feel bad.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Nothing is worse then having to give up something which matters to you.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized the depth of their truth, not only for her situation, but for his. For theirs.
Jillian put her head on his shoulder, and they held in each other for a while, not saying anything, not needing to, until they were interrupted by the entrance of a slender young girl wearing an outfit identical to Jillian’s.
“Oops, didn’t mean to disturb anything,” the girl said.
Jillian picked her head up and smiled. “Just getting a hug from an old friend. Courtney, I’d like you to meet Miles Anderson. He and I knew each other back in high school. Miles, this is Courtney Harris, my most promising student.”
“Is she as good as you were?”
“Better, I think.”
Miles held out a hand. “That’s saying something. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Courtney.”
“Likewise,” she said, with an innocent flush, as they shook hands.
“Well, I won’t keep you from your lesson. I remember when Jillian was studying. Nothing got her more frustrated then being late for the start of class.”
“I’m a class of one, but thanks.”
“I’ll leave you in her capable hands, then.” He gave Jillian a quick kiss, and said, “I’ll see you soon.”
He shut the door behind him, but stayed for a few minutes longer, watching through the window as the two dancers warmed up together and began to work. Not until he saw Jillian smile and laugh, did he leave.
* * * *
Before she began her first routine, Courtney asked, “Who was the major hunk?”
“Miles? I told you, an old friend.”
“Oh please, I’m not blind. From the way he looked at you, I would say he’s more than a friend.”
Jillian could feel a blush starting at the base of her neck. “We were close a long time ago.”
“Very close?”
“Yes,” Jillian said, deciding to be honest and own this part of her past.
“And now?”
“Now we are taking one day at a time. What’s with the inquisition?”
“No reason,” Courtney said suddenly and turned back to the mirror.
“Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I answered your questions. You answer mine.”
Courtney shrugged, “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever have someone in my life if I want to keep dancing.”
“Because of the time dancing takes?”
“Partly, and also because…” Courtney’s voice trailed off and she looked down at her body.
“Did someone say something about the way you look?” Courtney nodded. This was familiar territory. “I’ve been there. Want to share?”
“It was one of the guys at school, someone I had a crush on. I tried to ask him out, but he turned me down. Later I overheard him laughing with his friends about me and saying I looked like a stick. One of the guys in his group said I looked more like a boy.”
Jillian understood the situation all too well. “Sweetheart, I wish I could say something to help, but there are two unfortunate truths at play here. The first is that as a dancer, no, you will never have a large chest an
d the curves of some of your contemporaries.”
“And the second?”
“Fourteen-year-old boys are idiots.” Jillian was relieved when Courtney laughed. “Sorry, it’s reality. Can’t change it. However, there are two matching pieces of good news to go with this.”
“What are they?”
“If you keep dancing, when you attend your tenth high school reunion, you’ll look better than almost ninety percent of your female classmates and have the last laugh, and with any luck, some of those boys will grow out of this phase and become men who see your true beauty, inside and out.”
Courtney hugged her, and as Jillian gave her a squeeze, she realized the importance of her words. The best men did see the truth. It surprised her to realize a week ago, she didn’t know how she would have answered these same questions. Years of having input only from Rob and her father had done a fair amount of damage to her self-esteem, and it was only recently she began to realize their beliefs didn’t have to be her reality. She was able to see her own strengths and the possibilities in her life. And now she might even have someone to share those possibilities with her.
“Come on, beautiful,” she said to Courtney. “Let’s dance.”
* * * *
There were times for being alone with your thoughts, and times when diversion was best found in the company of someone else. Rob was beginning to think he made the wrong choice tonight.
“You’re distracted this evening,” Tanya said, stroking Rob’s naked chest and playing this with his belt buckle. “I can tell.”
“Sorry, baby, there’s so much going on these days. Business isn’t strong with this economy. Norman is all over me to find new revenue sources. Then these fires have put a kink in things, and Jillian…”
“Isn’t as good for you as I am,” she finished. “You know I make you happier than she ever did, otherwise we wouldn’t be here now.”
Rob ran his hands through Tanya’s short, bottle-blond hair. It had been light brown and longer in high school, but this suited her. “You do know how to please.”
“I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
“You wait here. I’ll be right back,” she said, giving him a quick kiss and hurrying into the bathroom. Tanya was definitely good for something, and she was much more receptive in bed than Jillian ever was, but happiness was not something he wanted from her. Jillian was the only woman for him and always would be.
Still, Tanya was here and getting ready. She’d probably emerge wearing a lacy negligee or a tiny babydoll, which Jillian, with her cold reserve, never would have done for him. It definitely made a nice change.
He’d been seeing Tanya on and off for nearly two years, since shortly after Peter left her. His old friend had never hold him why he was leaving, but they hadn’t been close since Rob came back from college and started working for Norman and Peter went straight from high school to the police academy.
He’d only been slightly surprised when Tanya showed up at his office one day and began coming on to him. He was fairly certain she’d had the hots for him back in high school, but he wasn’t interested then. His lackluster and monotonous sex life with Jillian made him receptive to her advances this time.
Her continued friendship with Jillian at first concerned, then confused him. He wondered if she was going to tell Jillian about the affair, but it had been months and nothing had happened. He never understood women and their friendships, so he didn’t give it much thought.
They had fun together. For him, the relationship was only about sex, and they met either at her house or occasionally in his office. Although he was fairly certain she wanted more, Tanya never pushed for him to leave Jillian. Of course, that had happened anyway, but Rob still believed with time and Norman’s help, he’d get his wife back.
“Rob,” Tanya called from the bathroom.
“I’m sorry, what, baby?”
“Are you ready?”
“Absolutely.”
“What do you think?” she asked, and stepped out wearing a black bra, thong, and garter ensemble with sheer stockings and high heels. He was instantly hard, thoughts of Jillian beginning to fade as Tanya came up to him and he filled his hands with her full breasts. Her lush body with its extra pounds was nothing like Jillian’s lean figure.
“You look wonderful,” he said, kissing her lips and moving down to her neck. Her curves, softness and encouraging moans allowed him to forget about his wife and enjoy the pleasure Tanya offered. “You are so hot tonight.”
“It’s all for you.” She took his hand and led him to the bed. “Speaking of hot,” she said as she pulled down the covers and got into bed, shoes and all, “I assume the reason I saw Miles Anderson at your office today was to talk about the fires. There’s a rumor going around that they might have been set deliberately.”
Rob stiffened and not in a good way. He wanted to lose himself in mindless sex, not think about the return of his rival or the man’s reason for being here. “He said the same thing. I don’t understand why Monroe asked that loser to come back, but I suppose if he’s got some experience fighting fires, then he’s good for something.”
“He may not have been much in high school, but Ellen at the salon said after he left the Army, he became some big-shot explosion consultant.”
He didn’t want to hear any more. “Do you know what I think?” he said, grabbing her ankles and pulling her further down the bed.
“Tell me,” she said with a smile. She always enjoyed when he took charge and got a little rough.
He removed his boxer shorts and moved up to her face. “All these chattering women need something else to do with their mouths. Like this,” and he pushed his erection between her lips and relished the silence as much as the sensation.
* * * *
Any solace and relief he’d found with Tanya was gone within moments of his meeting with Norman the next morning.
“This is not good, Robert.”
“I know, sir,” Rob said, shifting in his seat. Norman never used nicknames. He said it was inappropriate. Rob thought it was because the man didn’t have a friendly bone in his body.
“I don’t know what the worst part of this situation is, the loss of property or the arrival of that hoodlum, Miles Anderson. The man honestly thinks there’s an arsonist at work.”
“You must admit three fires are somewhat suspicious.”
“I admit nothing of the sort. Yes, it’s unusual and unfortunate and I realize my properties or those of people I know are involved, but that doesn’t mean anything nefarious is going on.”
“Of course.” Rob never argued with Norman and he wasn’t going to start now. It had been an important key to his success with Wagner Properties. Norman could count on Rob to agree with his decisions and see them carried out. If it chafed to be in that position, he comforted himself with the knowledge that everything he did was with his own future in mind. From the day he’d met Norman on one of his early dates with Jillian, Rob had had every intention of acting the part of the son the man always wanted and becoming his heir. “I met with Miles yesterday.”
“I trust you were discreet and gave him the bare minimum of information.”
Rob thought uncomfortably of his letting slip about the bid on the barn. He was a fool to attempt something separate from Norman before everything was in place. This was not the time to discuss it, so he answered, “Naturally.”
“As you have done with me.”
“I don’t understand, sir.” Did he know about the bid after all?
“I learned from Mr. Anderson your divorce from my daughter has been final for nearly three weeks. Is there a reason you haven’t told me this?”
Shit, Rob thought over and over. He had been counting on Jillian’s lousy relationship with her father and their lack of communication to keep this information from Norman until he had some encouraging news. He had hoped the fire would delay the signing of the divorce papers, but it hadn’t. “Sir, I’m not giving
up on my marriage, no matter what a piece of paper says.”
“Damn right,” Norman said and pounded his fist on the desk for emphasis. Inwardly Rob laughed at the stereotypical mannerisms of his father-in-law, never allowing his contempt to show. He regularly thought joyfully of the day he would shut the man up in a nursing home somewhere and never see him again. He allowed the image to fill his mind, and it calmed him. However, before that dream could come true, he needed Jillian back and, preferably, pregnant soon after.
“I have faith in you, Robert. You are the best man for my daughter, and I want to see you back with her. I expect you to use every opportunity to make it happen.”
“I will, sir,” Rob said, wishing he knew what the man meant.
“Her new business is delayed, which should help you. I thought once it was gone, she’d come to her senses, see how much she needed her family.”
“Unfortunately it seems to have made her more stubborn. She’s dug in her heels even more.”
“Well, I guess it’s the one thing she gets from me. Maybe we’ll get lucky and this so- called arsonist will torch the retched condo she’s staying in and she’ll have to come home to one of us.”
Rob said nothing, although he nodded in agreement. It was time to step up his plans.
* * * *
I can’t stand the waiting. There needs to be another fire and soon. I love driving by the sites. The last two are easy to see from the road, and it makes me wonderfully excited. That’s my work. I did that, I want to shout. I’m front-page news and no one knows it’s me. It has to be this way, but sometimes it’s frustrating.
Miles thinks he knows, but he doesn’t. I’ve been too careful. There’s no way they can pin these fires on me, even if they do suspect. I’ve learned how to plan, how to wait, and how to do this perfectly. I’m getting very good at it. I always succeed at what I put my efforts into and no one can stop me.
And I’m going to do it again. Soon there will be another beautiful blaze. The warmth of the flames will light up the night, and I will be there to see it grow and destroy. I will feel the heat and take it into me. It will make me stronger. Powerful.
The fire and myself are forces to be reckoned with. We will not be ignored.
Passionate Heat Page 10
