Shattered Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 1)

by Heather Guimond

  Once we finished our drinks, Vance took my glass and set it on the bar along with his. He grabbed me by the hand and led me to the edge of the floor. We stood and watched a little closer for a few minutes, before he leaned closer and asked in my ear “What is your skill level?”

  “I would say that I’m above a beginner, but just below an intermediate dancer. I don’t go often enough to really practice my skills, but I’ve mastered the basics and know a few intermediate steps. I can’t really do anything fancy though.”

  “How long has it been since you last danced?” he asked.

  “It’s probably been at least eight months.” I admitted.

  “Do you trust me enough to lead you through a few steps that you may not have tried before? I will help you through them. If you’re not embarrassed, I’ll walk you through them first,” he offered.

  “I don’t know, I don’t want to look like such a newbie in front of everyone else. I mean I know I will if I just stick to very basic moves, but no one will be paying attention to me. If I stop and walk through something, that might attract attention.”

  “So what? I’m sure it’ll happen more than once tonight. If it increases your enjoyment of the evening, that’s all that really matters. We’ll stay here over at the corner where we’re out of the way of the more advanced dancers, and no one will mind,” he said, doing his best to convince me. It worked. The man could talk me into anything.

  “Alright. I’ll give it a shot,” I said with a giddy grin. The fact was that I totally trusted Vance with my body. I knew instinctively he would guide me easily and keep me from crashing into anybody. I felt very safe putting myself in his arms.

  He took my hand again and led me the rest of the way onto the floor. Turning, he placed his other hand at my hip while I rested my left hand on his shoulder. He guided me into the basic step on the down beat, for the first three counts of eight, giving me a chance to warm up and shake the rust off.

  Next, he moved me into a right turn, then back to a basic step, then to a side step and another turn, back to basic, a hammerlock, and so on. He led me expertly through all the beginning steps, letting me familiarize myself with them again before we moved on to more complicated movements. Before long, I was comfortable and nodded while smiling at him to let him know I was ready to conquer more elaborate steps. The next thing I knew, Vance had me performing intricate sequences that I’d never dreamed I could do. Our eyes were locked on the other’s the entire time, and the hum of electricity between us began to throb along with the music. The touch of his hands as he spun me around or caressed me as he brought me close in to him, intoxicated me. My pulse began to pound, and the fringe on my dress flew wildly with every shake and shimmy of my body.

  The thin sheen of perspiration that began to slick my body only heightened my awareness of the seductiveness of the evening. It was like making love all over again in a way. We were touching, our bodies sliding against each other, moving apart, coming back together again. We were connected physically, mentally and emotionally. Our breathing was labored and heavy; and though we were clothed this time, we were still creating a kind of magic together. One that made sparks fly and hearts swell. Though different than making love with Vance for obvious reasons, it was just as exhilarating and I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing the entire time.

  We danced for over an hour before we decided to refresh with more mojitos. There was a seat available at the bar, so Vance lifted me up on it and moved to stand in the space between my knees. I rested the cold glass against my forehead to help cool me down. Strands of my hair were plastered to my sweaty neck, and I figured I must look like wet death after all that physical exertion.

  “You are an excellent lead, Vance. You should teach classes,” I said.

  “I used to, actually, when I was in college,” he responded. “I told you I grew up in the East Valley?” I nodded. “Well it’s a predominantly Latino area. My friends taught me how to dance when I was in high school, and I got ‘salsa fever’ as they say. I got pretty good, and it was a natural progression that I should teach. I didn’t make a ton of money, but it was enough to cover my text books each semester and I had a blast doing it. It always made me feel good to take someone who knew nothing and give them skills to do something that brought them joy.”

  “I hope that I can learn more from you. Apart from this weekend I spent with you, nothing else has ever made me feel so alive,” I said with a blush.

  Vance’s cheeks colored slightly as well, and he got the most humble look on his face. “Mimi that is the most… wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  I leaned in close to his ear so he could hear me better as I whispered the most heartfelt words I had ever spoken to that point. “It’s true, Vance. Nobody has ever affected me the way you do. This feeling I have when I’m with you? I want to feel it forever.”

  He looked me deep in the eyes and said just one word, shaking his head in amazement. “Fearless.”

  He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulling me in close to his chest, he squeezed me tightly.

  We spent the rest of the night dancing and drinking mojitos until the bar closed, simply enjoying the time we had together being young and free and feeling the beginnings of love growing between us.

  The following day, Vance and I were moving a little slowly even though we slept right up until a half an hour before check out. We had gotten back to the hotel a little after four, and made love until six. It was no less satisfying than any of the times during our marathon the day before. We were both exhausted from the exertion and the effects of the alcohol we had consumed, though. So, it had been slow and lazy, which suited me just fine. I was learning that Vance’s approach to sex was mostly slow. He was the kind of man who liked to draw things out, to make the most of every touch and kiss, to play my body like a violin, rather than pounding it into submission. I supposed that’s where his ninja orgasm skills came into play. I didn’t know, wasn’t going to complain, nor was I going to examine it too closely. The technique obviously worked for the man, and I was its beneficiary. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and all that. I didn’t want the stealth orgasms to go away. They were far too good.

  Pete and Laurel met us at the truck, both looking about as good as we felt. We exchanged grunts instead of greetings and loaded our gear into the back. Rather than trying to corner Laurel to squeeze information out of her, I opted to sit up front with Vance for the return trip for the simple reason I wanted to hold his hand. I wanted to extend any time we had together for as long as I could. We spent most of the ride in comfortable silence, whether we were nursing our respective hangovers, me snoozing, or lost in thought over our weekends, it was hard to say. I did a bit of all three. I felt no need to talk, other than murmuring here and there to Vance about the music, or the odd thing I noticed about the scenery going by. He seemed just as content to hold my hand and to sneak little happy looks at my profile.

  We arrived in the city around three-thirty in the afternoon. Pete and Laurel said goodbye on the stoop as Vance helped me upstairs with my bag. He left it by the front door and joined me on the sofa to chat for a little bit.

  “Thank you so much for this trip, Vance. I really had a wonderful time.” I said on an exhale. I had a tightness in my chest as I knew this was the last conversation we would have in person for several days. I hated that I wouldn’t get to see him whenever I wanted to. He had become as important to me as air, even though it was crazy. I’d known him exactly a week, and I felt like he was essential to my survival.

  “You’re welcome, Mimi. It was definitely the time of my life. Even if I did almost get arrested.” We both laughed.

  “I need to get back to my hotel and take a nap, if I’m going to call you tonight, which I absolutely have to do. I don’t know if I will have time to call you in the morning before you leave. I have a seven o’clock breakfast meeting.”

  “I hate to see you leave. I would suggest we nap together, but
this sofa isn’t exactly built for two, and if I accompany you back to your hotel, not only will we not nap, I won’t leave and I won’t make my flight tomorrow.”

  “I wouldn’t care if you missed your flight tomorrow,” he gave me a teasing wink, “but I’d miss my meeting and that would be very bad for my career. If I lose my job, I can’t support you after we’re married.”

  I groaned. “Are you proposing again? You’ve been so good. You almost went all weekend without doing it.”

  “No, Mimi. I promise you. I will propose to you at least once a week until you agree to be my wife. Consider yourself warned.” He stood and placed a soft kiss to my forehead.

  “I’m going to leave now. Get comfortable and take your nap. I’ll call you as soon as I wake up.” He brushed the back of his knuckles across my cheek before turning for the door.

  “Until then,” I whispered.

  After he left, I set the alarm on my phone for two hours later and snuggled down into the sofa, instantly falling into a very comfortable sleep.

  I woke to my alarm going off and the growling of my stomach just after six in the evening. I wandered through the apartment, looking for Laurel, to find her sprawled across her bed, drooling all over her pillow. I tried to rouse her to see if she wanted to go grab something to eat, but she just mumbled incoherently about Pete and an octopus, so I left her to her dreams and headed back to the kitchen to see if there was anything in the refrigerator to make a meal out of.

  The fridge was near empty, and the only promising thing in the pantry was a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread. I could have braved the New York streets by myself and found something with more flavor, but I still felt pretty hung-over despite my very restful nap. So, I made a sandwich, then settled down on the sofa and turned on some mindless TV.

  I kept looking at the time on my phone, in anticipation of Vance calling. When nine o’clock rolled around, my uneasiness started to grow. Though he didn’t give me any sort of time frame as to when he’d call, I had expected he’d call much earlier. He had said he’d call when he woke up. He couldn’t possibly still be asleep, could he? Maybe it had taken him awhile to get to sleep. I wondered if I should call him. I didn’t want to wake him if he was still resting. I waited for another hour, then decided to call after all, because I had to get up at four the following morning to catch my six-thirty flight. I placed the call and it rang until it went to voicemail.

  “Hey, Vance, it’s Mimi. I’m really sorry I missed you, but I will give you a call when I land tomorrow. Hopefully, I will get to hear your voice then. I hope your day goes well tomorrow. Bye,” I said before hanging up.

  I was sure there was a very good explanation as to why he didn’t call, but I was so disappointed. I felt like we missed an important opportunity, even though that was silly. It was just one phone call.

  I got up and packed all the stuff I didn’t need for the morning, set out an outfit to wear and grabbed my nightclothes. I went through my nightly routine then settled back onto the sofa, all the while with this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  As I turned out the light, I realized that Laurel had slept straight through the afternoon and evening. Maybe that’s what Vance had done too. His disappearing act didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all. I set my alarm for four a.m. and rolled over to sleep.

  The following morning was a whirlwind of activity. I overslept by half an hour and was missing a shoe. I’d thought I had everything together the night before, but apparently neglected to make sure my shoes were accounted for. In the end, I had to unpack another pair and write my favorite pair of flats off as a loss. They weren’t anything special or expensive, or even all that attractive, they were just super comfortable. Finally, I was ready to go and Laurel walked me down to the cab waiting in front of the building. We exchanged quick hugs goodbye and promised to Skype that evening, because she still owed me an explanation about Pete.

  The cab made its way through the dark streets, the lights shining down onto puddles formed from sidewalks that had been hosed off in preparation for the day’s business ahead. I leaned my head against the window, still feeling a bit like a kid who was denied a day at Disneyland. I tried to shake it off and pull on my big girl boots. It wasn’t as though it was my last chance to speak to him. I knew I’d talk to him that afternoon when my plane landed. At least, I hoped I would.

  I didn’t have much time to think of it again once I got to the airport, as I had just enough time to get through security and make a mad dash for the gate. I got to my seat just as they were closing the doors to the plane. I accepted a pillow and blanket from the flight attendant and despite the extra sleep I got the day before, I was able to drift off for most of the flight home.

  Once awake, I tried to concentrate on a romance novel I’d stuffed in my purse before leaving Los Angeles. Unfortunately, my mind kept turning back to Vance and the fact he didn’t call. I knew I was being obsessive, but I couldn’t help it. We had just connected in such a way, I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t be as eager to talk to me as I was to him. Which of course made me then worry something was wrong. Semi-disgusted with myself, I crammed the book back into my purse and leaned back into the seat. I closed my eyes and did my best to distract myself by remembering everything that had happened over my entire trip, from start to finish, until the plane was making its descent at LAX.

  Once we reached the gate, I waited until everyone disembarked before grabbing my stuff from the overhead compartment and making my own way off the airplane. I wasn’t in any particular hurry. It was about ten a.m. in Los Angeles, and I had nowhere special to be, no one anxiously awaiting my arrival home. I’d check in with my bosses, a few friends and my mom, but those calls could wait until later in the afternoon. The only call I wanted to make was to Vance, but suddenly, I felt hesitant. I knew I was unsure because his not calling last night was unexpected and I didn’t know if it meant anything or not. I felt surprisingly vulnerable.

  I slowly moved toward the baggage claim, procrastinating over turning on my phone, knowing I should just do it and get it over with, but scared of doing it and finding no messages waiting.

  “It’s Vance.” I told myself quietly. “Nothing has changed between the time he dropped you off at Laurel’s and now.” A tiny voice whispered in my head, Except, he didn’t call…

  While I was waiting for my suitcase to come around on the carousel, I reached into my purse and grabbed my phone. While it powered on, I located my luggage and pulled it down. As I wheeled it out to the curb, my phone started pinging with alerts for both voicemail and text messages. I queued up in the taxi line and stared at the phone in my hand. I had eight text messages and three voicemails.

  I listened to the voicemails first. The first one was from Laurel at five-thirty that morning, letting me know she found my shoe and wanting to know if she should send the pair to me in L.A.

  The second was left at five forty-eight and was from Vance. He simply apologized for not calling the night before and asked me to call him before my flight left.

  The third was also from Vance and time stamped at seven a.m. It was much longer than his last one.

  “Mimi, it’s Vance again. I had hoped you would call before you left, but your flight should be in the air by now. If you are upset with me for not calling, I don’t blame you, but I didn’t willfully not call. I had a terrible migraine headache when I got back to the hotel after dropping you off. I took some pain medication and it knocked me out. I slept straight through to this morning. I never even heard my phone ring when you called. I’m really sorry. You have no idea how disappointed I was when I woke up this morning. I hate the fact that you left and I didn’t get to hear your voice again. I feel like I got robbed or something. I keep telling myself to stop being a pussy, that it’s just one phone call, but the truth is after this weekend, I want you with me all the time. If I miss an opportunity to see you, to hear you, to share something with you, then I’ve lost something important to me.
I don’t want to lose any moments with you, no matter what they are. Please call me when you land, even if you’re mad. I’d rather hear you tell me off, than hear nothing from you at all.”

  I decided to read the text messages later and call him back once I was in the cab on the way home. He picked up before the first ring ended. “Hi Mimi. Hang on just a second. Don’t go anywhere.” I heard talking in the background, but it was muffled, as if he had his hand over the receiver. I heard a door shut and then he was back, his voice coming through the line, as crisp and clear as if he were sitting next to me.

  “Sorry, I was in a meeting and had to excuse myself. I am so relieved that you called.”

  “Vance, if you’re in a meeting, I can call back at a more convenient time,” I told him.

  “No way. Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go. I didn’t get to speak to you last night, so I’m getting my time with you now,” he said adamantly.

  “Vance, seriously. You have work to do. I will be home all day and evening. I have no plans at all.”

  “Good. You can talk to me now and later,” he insisted.

  I sighed and settled back into the seat. “Fine. You win.” In a much softer tone, I asked, “How’s your head?”

  “Much better now. Good as new, in fact.” He sounded chipper, although I didn’t know if it was because he felt good physically or because he got his way.

  “Does that happen a lot?” I asked. “I mean, headaches. Do you get them often?”

  “Not really. I’ll get them when I’m working on a big deal, you know from the stress, I think. But occasionally, I’ll get a migraine. When I do, I take this medication my GP gave me and it puts me right out. It sucks because I’m out for hours, but at least I don’t have to feel the blinding pain. I should have called you before I took the pills, but I figured you had already gone to sleep and honestly the only thing I could think of was going to sleep myself.”