“No. But make sure you arrive at the station on time.”
“Of course I will.”
“You have a habit of cutting it too close. Jenna has an ankle strain, and we don’t want her standing too long waiting for you.”
Casey tried to suppress a sigh of irritation, but apparently did not succeed. Because her mother ended the call with, “And try getting over this funk you’re in. We don’t want to spoil Jenna’s visit.”
Some things never change.
When Casey went downstairs to check her email — and the downstairs phone in case Drew lost her cell number — she greeted Jiao, who sat in the studio lobby nibbling a snack of homemade dumplings.
“I brought extra,” Jiao said, holding out a plastic container. “I know how you like my cooking.”
Casey snatched a few and licked her fingers after downing them. “Mmm. Will you marry me?”
Jiao laughed and sipped her tea, relaxing into the old sofa that graced the lobby. “Does Trevor cook?”
Casey grimaced. “I forgot to tell you. Trevor and I broke up last week.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. We were both hanging on to something that wasn’t really there.”
Jiao squinted at Casey. “Do I detect that ‘I’m seeing someone new’ look?”
Her cheeks grew warm. “Kind of.” Knowing Jiao would next ask who he was, Casey hustled to the desk and acted busy. “Excuse me. Some things I’d better do before heading out.” She could just imagine Jiao’s reaction if she found out the “someone” was that obnoxious father who’d burst into her studio to pull his son out of ballet class.
She checked the studio phone for messages. None. But her email had good news. “Jiao, remember when I entered a disc of my dancers doing the hip-hop piece into that Got Moves competition?”
“Sure do.”
“Well, we made the cut. The Cove Corps is going to be on TV!”
Jiao sprang to her feet and wrapped her arms around Casey, both women squealing with delight.
“Can’t wait to tell the kids.”
On the way to her car, she had the impulse to share the news with Drew. She told herself it was only because his son Josh was part of it. But as she slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out her cell, Casey admitted the truth.
She was already hooked on him. Not good. Dangerous, in fact. She knew his history. Even heard him tell Madame Lumina he had no intention of ever marrying.
Sure, things seemed exciting now. But waiting around the bend was a sign that said: Dead End. And Casey could see it from here. Sooner or later he’d get bored like all players who suffered from ADD Of The Latest Sex Partner. And he’d move on to the next.
She put the phone back in her purse.
Forty minutes later Casey pulled into the driveway at her mother’s house after picking up Jenna at the North Cove train station. Yes, Mom, on time.
Lauren Richardson lived in the back half of the white farmhouse Casey had grown up in. She loved its covered porch and dormer windows. Parker had turned the front section into a bed-and-breakfast that gave their mom an income from the influx of out-of-towners visiting the vineyards.
As usual, her mom rolled out the red carpet when her sister came in from Manhattan. Six years younger, Jenna was her mother’s pride and joy. The one who rendered Casey into the “almost” girl. Her mother’s highest praise had always been that Casey was almost as pretty, almost as smart or almost as talented as Jenna.
During their lunch of roast chicken, french fries, plus steamed chard and salad greens that came straight from Parker’s garden, Jenna regaled their mother with her exciting life in New York City as a soloist with American Ballet Theater.
“After the gala performance the board held an absolutely fantastic reception for the company. George Clooney was there …”
“Oh, my God. George Clooney.” Her mother reeled back in her seat as if she’d witnessed the second coming.
“As well as Conrad Von Plonk.”
“The world’s fourth richest man!” A squeal.
That sent Jenna’s mouth into overdrive. “That’s not all. Sara Jessica Parker and her husband Matthew Broderick.”
“Stop it, Jenna, before I pass out.”
Right about now Casey figured she could use a few glasses of that wine she’d had yesterday. But after her mother’s long struggle with alcohol she never kept liquor in her house. Casey also found herself checking her phone. Drew seemed to be more of a talker than a texter, but had done neither.
She eyed her brother. He sat there with his usual easygoing smile, lightly nodding every so often in brief acknowledgement of the conversation.
Dear Parker. How did he do it?
But Casey knew one thing that would ruffle his calm. Drew sleeping in her bed last night. Just as she allowed herself to imagine introducing the wealthy and handsome Drew Byrne to her mother and sister, an unbidden image of him transferring his interest to Jenna assailed her.
“Why are you frowning?”
Casey looked up at her mother’s query. “Am I? Just, um, remembered something I have to do.”
“Aren’t you happy for your sister?”
“Of course I am.” Casey and Jenna smiled at each other. Smiles that were not the least bit fake. She loved this girl she’d helped to raise. And although Jenna could sometimes act self-centered, Casey knew the real person underneath.
It seemed easy for Jenna now to enjoy the high life safely onboard a major dance company. All she had to worry about was keeping her cabrioles quick and precise, her grand jete’s dynamic and her body rail thin. (While I get to eat the fries and the strawberry rhubarb pie.) But Casey also understood the self-doubting part of her sister that needed constant reassurance the minute the waters got choppy. And she’d never let Jenna weather a storm alone. When the chips were down Casey would make sure she came through for her no matter what.
Parker rose from the table. “That coffee isn’t going to make itself.”
“Still my favorite bev,” said Jenna. Turning her attention to Casey, she asked, “How’s your school? Spot any rising stars in your ranks?”
“Actually we do have two young—” The ringtone caught her midsentence. Casey glanced at her phone. It was Drew. “Excuse me. Gotta take this.”
She rounded the table at a clip and sped into the private hush of the nearby living room. “Hey, you,” she said.
“When are you finished teaching for the day?” he asked.
“Not till seven-thirty. You sound like you’re in a hurry.”
“This business of mine. Drives me nuts. Meet me in Greenport when you’re done?”
“Where in Greenport?”
“At the carousel.”
“Okay.”
“Wear sneakers.”
“Are we talking b-ball?”
“Be there.”
And he was gone. Was this their basketball challenge? Were they going out to look at property, too? Although they hadn’t talked much last night, at one point Drew had murmured in her ear, “You’re not backing out of our plan for the studio.”
And she didn’t want to.
She also didn’t want to witness another round of the family script being reenacted in a very boring one-act play at the dining room table. One glance at the scene told her its two main actors were engrossed in the same old dialogue. She headed for the kitchen and watched Parker spoon freshly ground beans into the coffeemaker. He had such a solid, steady way about him that just being near him refreshed her.
“Feeling left out?” he asked with a wry snicker.
Casey shrugged. “Same old. Same old.”
“Family is what it is. Guess all we can do is be grateful for what we have and focus on building the worlds we want for ourselves.”
“I agree. It’s just that this scenario sometimes gives me a painful reminder that I failed at my own dream of dancing with a major company. Not that it’s anyone’s fault but mine. I just wasn’t good enough.”
&
nbsp; He turned on the coffeemaker and stepped toward her. “You don’t know that, Casey. You’ll never know, because you didn’t really have the chance. You didn’t even start taking real dance classes till you were what…”
“Nineteen.”
“And of course you had to include your baby sister, who was only twelve.”
“Well, I could tell she had talent.” Casey cut slices of pie and set them on dishes.
Parker rested his hands on her shoulders. “So did you. But unlike Jenna who spent her high school years training, you spent yours at Dad’s sick bed, and cleaning up after Mom’s drunken bouts, and making sure Jenna had enough to eat and whatever she needed for school. Not to mention part time jobs.”
“I had you to help me.”
“Oh, come on. I was gone most of the time trying to keep Dad’s business from folding. Then when you went to New York you even let Jenna live with you in the summers and spent all your money on her dance classes while you worked to pay the rent.”
“But…”
“You always give up on yourself, Casey, while you’re busy pushing others to win. But part of that is also a kind of gift. A gift that makes you an exceptionally good teacher. I’m not so sure you would have been as happy dealing with all the politics of a company as you are running your own school. Don’t quit on that. And if Drew Byrne falls through, you and I will make it happen. I promise we’ll find a way.”
Casey smiled up at him. “Nobody’s got a brother as wonderful as mine.”
He turned away, obviously embarrassed by her praise, but muttered, “Just remember I’m always there for you.”
“You’re not mad at me anymore for taking Drew Byrne up on his offer?” She hoped her feelings for Drew didn’t show.
“Not if he plays it straight with you. Just don’t let him get too close.”
Thankfully, Jenna interrupted them, carrying dishes to the sink. “Hey, where’s that coffee?”
“Coming up,” Parker said.
Jenna went to her sister. “Got a hug for me, Casey?”
“Always.” She opened her arms.
“And how about you, big bro?”
Parker joined them to make it a three-way huddle in the middle of the kitchen, the women giggling the way they used to as kids.
A memory tugged at Casey’s heart. Of eleven-year-old Parker playing his guitar and her ten-year-old self dancing about this kitchen with a three-year-old Jenna in her arms. And at the table, laughing and clapping: their dad alive and well sitting next to their mom, young, in love and sober.
“We need an extra place setting,” their mother said, strolling into the room. “We’ve got a mystery guest coming for dessert.”
Casey raised a brow. “Mystery guest?”
She answered with a sly wink.
As if on cue, the low rumbling of a motorcycle’s engine grew louder and louder until it came to a stop in their driveway.
A knock at the back door. “You get that, Casey,” her mom said.
The motorcycle and the queasy feeling in her stomach told Casey exactly who it was before she opened the door. “Hello, Trevor.”
Trevor Barton stepped in and nodded a greeting to everyone. “Too late for some of that strawberry rhubarb pie, Mrs. Richardson?”
“Right on time, Trevor.” Mrs. Richardson shooed Parker and Jenna out of the kitchen.
As soon as they were alone Trevor grabbed Casey, kissed her on the mouth and said, “Now isn’t this a great way to make up?”
Chapter Sixteen
At five thirty Casey finished teaching her advanced ballet class. She peeked into the small studio where Jiao sat at the piano. “Do you have another private coming?”
“Two more, actually.”
“Will you lock up the studio for me tonight?”
Jiao nodded, giving her that look again. “He must be a nice catch.”
Casey laughed. “I’m not so sure he’s been caught or that he’s nice, but I guess I’m in for the ride at this point.” Especially after comparing Trevor’s kiss to Drew’s. And straining to make him understand why they weren’t right for each other. At least they both agreed not to let on to her family that they were no longer an item, although Parker knew. Luckily Casey’s four o’clock class gave her an excuse to cut out before dessert was fully eaten.
She didn’t want to hurt Trevor, but she sure couldn’t pretend there was anything between them. There had never really been any spark, never any of that tugging inside her that she already felt with Drew. Why had she talked herself into sticking with Trevor for eight long months?
Because someone who can’t reach your heart can never hurt you. Which made Drew a real minefield for her. She’d just have to try and keep it to friendship and business from here on.
Casey heard the chatter and giggles of her spirited teens warming up for the jazz class in the main studio. Nine students. All girls in brightly colored leotards paired with tights or jazz pants. Casey accepted that she’d never have big classes here in the semi-rural North Fork, but prided herself on the fact that most of the students who began with her three years ago were still enrolled in her school.
“You guys look ready to rumble,” she said, striding to the front of the room. Before starting, she announced that her Cove Corps, which included two girls from this class, would be one of six dance groups competing on the Got Moves TV series.
They cheered and whooped. Casey shuffled through her CD collection that she used for jazz and hip-hop classes. Jiao only accompanied her for ballet and modern dance.
She slipped in a CD of Pink’s latest, turned to the class and began demonstrating the warm-up. Casey liked to keep the energy high, from the beginning shoulder rolls and pelvic isolations, through the shimmy and boogie down, to the highflying leaps and turns across the floor at the end of class.
Ninety minutes later, covered in sweat and breathing hard, she led the girls in the final cool down stretches. “Good job, ladies. And Filipa, I can see how hard you’ve worked on those barrel leaps. You’re doing them beautifully now.”
As the class dispersed Casey spoke with the mothers of the two girls in her performing group about possible rehearsal schedules. Then she ran upstairs to shower and change into jeans, sneakers and a tank tee that read: My Time Is GO Time.
Greenport sat way out toward the narrow end of Long Island’s North Fork. A sort of Brigadoon by the sea with a Captain Ahab flavor. It was once a whaling village, its downtown streets an impressionist’s canvas of tidy, colorful buildings. Tackle and bait shops and seafood bars next to high-end boutiques and art galleries. And friendly people strolling the docks beneath circling gulls.
While parking her car Casey heard a live band playing what seemed like a mix of swing and pop. She remembered Greenport had dancing here in Mitchell Park during the summer months. But she doubted that was what Drew had in mind.
Inhaling a fresh breeze right off the Peconic Bay, she walked to the airy roundhouse building that enclosed Greenport’s famous carousel from the 1920’s. There he was on his little yellow horsey. “I don’t believe it,” she muttered to herself.
She bought a ticket and stepped onto the platform, taking the black horse next to Drew’s. “Giddyup.”
He gave her a fast once-over. “You make a helluva cowgirl.”
“Thanks, Pardner.”
“I always liked carousels. Don’t tell anyone. Spoil my image.”
“Our secret.”
Round and round they went at a big one mile per hour, pipe organ music tooting out an Americana classic. Drew just sat there grinning and nodding. Was this the Twilight Zone? At least it served to dwarf the nervousness she’d had about facing Drew after last night.
Mercifully, the bell rang and the carousel slowed to a halt. With one swift and graceful move Drew dismounted and appeared at her horse, ready to help her.
Casey hopped off on her own. “Thanks, but I’m not lame.”
“Don’t start.”
“Guess I’m just r
evved for our B-ball showdown. Wearing my competition sneaks.”
“No B-ball tonight.”
“Then why the sneakers?”
“Don’t want you slipping into the water.” He took her hand and started walking through the park toward the docks.
His touch sent a wave of shimmering fire through Casey. She tried to ignore it. “We’re going fishing?”
“Not exactly.”
“Ooh. I love this song.” The band played “Moon River.” Before giving it a thought, Casey pulled on Drew’s hand, dragging him into the crowd of locals dancing near the bandstand. He put his arms around her waist, she slid hers around his neck, and they swayed to the music together. She lost herself in the nostalgic tune, singing the words softly.
Casey wasn’t sure at what point she realized she wasn’t supposed to let herself rest her head on his shoulder or press her breasts against his solid chest. But it felt so good. And Mr. “Boys Don’t Dance” easily moved in sync with her. In fact, they seemed to fit together perfectly.
When the song ended, Drew continued to hold her close. Casey knew she should pull away, but a part of her rebelled like a child ready to throw a tantrum, refusing to let go of him.
As early as high school Casey had begun learning that she couldn’t have what she wanted. And the years of screw-ups and disappointments that followed only served to hammer it into her head. It seemed like everything she tried for either failed or turned out to be a cruel joke like her supposed relationship with Jeff.
When it came to finding the right man, she’d already fallen into a resigned acceptance that it would never happen. As to careers, the dance academy had been a final effort to prove to herself that people who chase rainbows could actually succeed. She remembered praying to her dad’s memory when she’d opened her school, asking for him to watch over her, maybe even help her in some way. And she knew that if it failed, something inside her would break.
She would become one of those people who no longer believed in happy endings.
Casey looked up at Drew, suddenly realizing her need for him wasn’t just about her sexual attraction to him or his plan to save her studio. Drew was the kind of guy who fought for what he wanted. And his insistence on buying a building to house her dance academy told Casey he believed her dream was worth fighting for. He believed in her.
The Ultimate Romance Box (6 Bestselling Romance Novels) Page 103
