Take the Lead

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  A new warmth entered Shannon’s expression. “It is fun.” Her smile widened as her husband, Officer Lange, entered the studio. “Right, Dylan?”

  He’d walked right over to Dr. Rossi’s and Officer Lucky’s sides. But his head popped up at Shannon’s question. “Is what right, Shan?”

  “I was just telling Gwen here that waltzing is fun. You’ve enjoyed it, right?”

  “I did. Absolutely.”

  “Gwen, would you like to dance a little bit tonight too?”

  Feeling four sets of eyes on her, three of which looked shocked, Gwen shook her head. “That’s okay. Like I said, I’m bound to make a bunch of mistakes since I can hardly see my feet.”

  “No one minds. You could dance with Dylan.”

  With her husband, the police officer? This was getting more and more awkward. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” She kicked a bare foot out. I’m not dressed for dancing anyway.”

  “No one cares about that. I dance in black leggings and tank tops half the time.” She motioned with her hand. “Come on. Why don’t you give it a try?”

  Feeling like a cornered rat, Gwen glanced at Officer Lucky.

  But instead of looking irritated, she looked amused. “Come on Gwen. Give it a try. Waltzing is better than paperwork, I promise.”

  Officer Lange chuckled as he stood in the center of the room. “Traci means that in the best way. I promise.”

  “Okay.” She set all the papers she’d been holding in a neat pile on the floor and got to her feet. Next thing she knew, Shannon was giving her instructions about where to put her hands and Officer Lange’s hand was at her waist—or where her waist would have been if she still had one.

  Once all four of them were settled, Shannon put the music back on. “Ah, my favorite!” she exclaimed. “ ‘The Blue Danube Waltz.’ ”

  “Oh, brother,” Officer Lange joked. “Now we’re going to be hearing this the rest of the night.”

  “You will if you don’t keep your arms steady, Dylan. No noodle arms! Now, yes, one, two-three. One, two-three. Come on Traci. You’re not marching in a parade. Be more fluid.”

  “I’m trying. I have on heels here.”

  Gwen did giggle as she counted under her breath and moved where Officer Lange guided her.

  He looked down at her and smiled. “You’re doing a good job.”

  “I’ve never waltzed before. Or done anything like this.”

  “I hadn’t either until I met Shannon. But it’s actually kind of fun.”

  “Thank you for being my partner. I mean, I know you are doing this for your wife, but thanks.”

  “It’s not a problem. I agree with Traci. It’s better to dance than do paperwork. Especially at seven at night.”

  Shannon appeared at their side. “There you go, Gwen. Now, I know it’s hard because you’re barefoot, but try to step more on the ball of your foot.” As Gwen adjusted her step, Shannon smiled again. “You’re a natural.”

  Gwen peeked at the mirror and shook her head. She was in black leggings and a top that someone gave her at the women’s center. But even more than that, she knew she was only a five-month-pregnant eighteen-year-old in the arms of one of the police officers who was hunting her ex-boyfriend. There was nothing graceful or elegant about her.

  But then, as Officer Lange turned her and she laughed, she caught sight of herself again. There was color in her cheeks, she almost looked like she was doing well . . . and her eyes were bright.

  She looked happy. That was enough.

  * * *

  Later that night, two hours after the class ended and Gwen went to her room, there was a knock at her door. Assuming it was Officer Lucky, she pulled it open. “Oh. Hi, Shannon.”

  “Yes, it’s me.” Her gaze darted to the bed. “Oh, no. Did I wake you up?”

  “No. I was reading.” She held up a novel Kimber had let her borrow.

  “Oh, good. Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” She stepped aside.

  Shannon smiled at her as she sat down in the small chair next to the desk. “I had an idea and I’m afraid I got so excited about it, that Dylan told me to come up here to talk to you.”

  She perched on the edge of her bed. “Yes?”

  “You know how I’ve been teaching lessons to that group of senior citizens on Wednesday nights?”

  Gwen nodded. About a dozen men and women between the ages of seventy and eighty or so came in for a group lesson. It was a going joke upstairs that they were noisier than Shannon’s teenagers in the afternoon.

  “Well, I could always use the help. I tell you what-some of those folks just about killed me last time we practiced swing dancing. They don’t know their own limits.” She chuckled. “Gwen, what would you think about helping me with the class?”

  “I don’t know how to dance.”

  “I meant what I said today. I think you’re a natural. You picked up the steps right away. And even better, it seemed like you enjoyed it.”

  “I did enjoy it.”

  “Well?”

  “You don’t think it’s going to be weird?”

  “They’re all really accepting. Plus, I think they’re going to be glad to have someone young in there with us.” Her voice quickened. “Now, it wouldn’t be all fun and games. They bring snacks and we provide decaf and water. You’d have to help with setting up and cleaning up. And, you’d have to help me with some of my students who need an extra hand but don’t want to admit to that.”

  “I’d be happy to help.”

  “What do you think about ten dollars an hour?”

  “What?”

  “You know, to pay you?” Shannon asked patiently.

  “You don’t have to pay me. I’m living in your house.”

  “I spoke to Dylan, and he thinks that amount sounded fair. Plus, it is work. And don’t say no. It’s a two-hour class, so it’s just twenty dollars a week.”

  But it was twenty dollars more than she was making right now. More than she’d made in months. “If you really think it’s okay, I’d love to do that.”

  “Really?” She got to her feet. “That’s, well, that’s just fantastic.” Before Gwen could brace herself, Shannon hugged her. “This is going to be great. Thank you!” she said as she walked out of the room.

  Gwen carefully closed the door and locked it, then got back into bed.

  And then she allowed herself to smile too. Something amazing had happened tonight and she hadn’t even seen it coming.

  CHAPTER 34

  “First comes the sweat. Then comes the beauty, if

  you’re very lucky and have said your prayers.”

  —George Balanchine

  They’d worked together. They’d danced together. He’d taken Traci to Sunday dinner and kissed her when he didn’t think anyone was looking. But one thing Matt hadn’t done was take his new girlfriend on a real date.

  It wasn’t all his fault. Between his on-call schedule and her nearly twenty-four-hour surveillance of Gwen, neither of them had been able to find more than a couple of free hours. But things were about to change.

  He’d decided to invite her over to his house for dinner. He could grill a better-than-average salmon and throw a couple of potatoes in the oven with the best of them. Added to that was some steamed vegetables and a platter of cupcakes from the local bakery, and Matt knew it was as good as he could do without a lot more money time.

  When she entered his kitchen at five o’clock, her eyes widened. “Wow, look at this spread. You’ve been busy.”

  “Not that busy with this. I bought the cupcakes at the bakery.”

  Her eyes warmed. “You weren’t baking at all hours of the night?”

  “Yeah. I guess that was a given.”

  She ran a finger along one of the placemats that Bennie had run out to buy for him. “I’
m teasing. Everything looks really nice. Wonderful, even.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I was determined to do this up right, even though we’re kind of stuck here.” Since he was on call and she didn’t want to go far, they’d decided to have their date at his house. He pointed to the two pitchers on the countertop. One was filled with iced tea, the other with lemonade. “Want an Arnold Palmer?”

  “Absolutely.”

  After he handed her a glass, she sipped it appreciatively. “This is great.”

  “I wish I could have given you a glass of wine, but this will do.”

  “It’s perfect. Now, what I can’t help with?”

  “Nothing. The potatoes are already in the oven and the vegetables are in a bowl. I just have to put them in the steamer.” He checked his watch. “The salmon won’t take long. Want to sit outside for a few minutes before I turn on the grill?”

  “Sure.”

  She followed him outside. As he pulled out a chair for her, Matt realized he was a little nervous. He wanted everything to go well with Traci. Even though they knew a lot about each other, they didn’t know everything.

  He still wasn’t clear on some of the most basic things about her.

  “I feel like we’ve done everything backward,” he said. “I know how you react in a crisis, but I don’t know if you even like fish. Do you like salmon? I realize now that I should have asked earlier.”

  “I like it fine. I’m not a picky eater.” She took another sip of her drink before setting it down. “I’ve, um, thought the same thing about you from time to time. I know that you’re a caring doctor and a dutiful son, but I don’t know where you went to college or how you decided to become an obstetrician.”

  “I went to Ohio State for my undergrad, Nashville for medical school, and did my residency out in Kentucky.”

  “Why out there?”

  “It sounded exotic, I guess. I knew I wanted to practice in southern Ohio if I could. I realized that between growing up and all that schooling, I really hadn’t seen anything. I was able to choose between Milwaukee and Phoenix.” He smiled “The warm weather won.”

  “I haven’t been anywhere. Not really.”

  “You worked up in Cleveland.”

  She nodded. “I did. And me and two girlfriends went to Florida for a vacation after we graduated the academy. But other than that, I’ve only been around the state.”

  “Do you ever want to travel?”

  Biting her bottom lip, she nodded. “You know how I grew up. I never had big dreams of seeing the world. My dreams centered around having my own address. But now that I have Kimber in my life, I’m a little jealous. She goes everywhere. All over the world with her modeling career.”

  “I remember you saying that she was going to Mexico or something for a photo shoot.”

  “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. She’s done runway shoes in Italy and France.” She shook her head. “Isn’t that something?”

  “Maybe she’ll take you with her one day.”

  “No way.”

  “Why not?”

  “Me hanging out with a bunch of models? It will be like junior high again and I’ll start analyzing every flaw I have. No thank you.”

  “Do you really think you have flaws?”

  “Ah, yes. But it isn’t that I do or not. It’s normal comparison.” She raised a finger, shaking it like a schoolteacher. “And don’t say that’s a female trait. I work around lots of men. They’re always competing.”

  “I can’t deny that.” His voice warmed. “I still think you’d have fun with her. He grinned. “Maybe you could go as her security guard or something.”

  She brightened right up. “Maybe so. Though, Shannon, Kimber, Jennifer, and I were talking and we’ve been thinking we should just plan a girls’ trip together. You know what they say . . . if it’s not on the calendar, it will never happen.”

  He was charmed. Completely charmed, and he hadn’t seen that coming with a woman like Traci. Impressed, yes. Amused? Absolutely. But now that they were talking about nothing, just life, he was beginning to realize that she was all girl underneath all those hard layers.

  Wariness entered her eyes. “What did I say?”

  “Hmm? Oh, nothing.” He laughed. “That’s not true. I was just thinking that you’ve got a lot of homespun sayings for a city girl from Cleveland.”

  “Oh, my gosh. I know! I’ve picked every one of them up from Shannon. She’s the queen of clichéd sayings and Southern comfort.”

  “Don’t be upset by that. I think it’s cute. Charming, really.”

  “I never thought of myself that way but I’ll take it. Desiree, my house mom, always said there was more to me than I realized. Maybe she was right.”

  Her house mom. “Do you talk about your childhood much?”

  “I just was talking about it.”

  He shook his head. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to hear what she’d liked and what she hated. Specifics. “No, I mean, dinners, the other kids. What living in the group home was like? Do you tell many people about that?”

  “I never tell people about that.” Her voice was cool.

  And there went the layers right up, like a roll of Saran Wrap had just tightly concealed every part of her that was out for anyone to see. He mentally cursed himself. He was usually a little smoother.

  “Okay. You know what? I think it’s past time for me to get that fish on the grill.”

  “Do you want some help?”

  “I got it. You sip your tea. I’ll be right back.” Walking into the kitchen, he retrieved the cedar planks that he’d prepared earlier and placed them on a big baking tray.

  When he came back out, Traci was sitting exactly like he’d left her. “These don’t take long. Only about ten minutes.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He could feel the tension rise up in her as she silently watched him place the planks on his grill. He stood for a few seconds, pretending to watch the fish cook, but what he was really doing was wondering how he was going to get her back to herself. No, get them back to where they’d been—before he’d decided to play Dr. Phil with her life.

  When he turned around, she looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” He meant that, too. She’d already shared a lot with him.

  “I’ve gotten pretty good at going over the basics. You know, relaying information like it happened to someone else. I guess I have a lot to learn when it comes to sharing my feelings.”

  Getting up to check on the fish, he said, “I shouldn’t have pushed. I want to get to know you better, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have stuck to some easier information.” He turned to face her. “Like, why didn’t I just ask you what your favorite color was? Why did I have to start with the tough stuff?”

  “Red,” she said as she walked to his side. “My favorite color is red.”

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Red is my favorite too.”

  CHAPTER 35

  “You live as long as you dance.”

  —Rudolf Nureyev

  Dr. Matt Rossi could really kiss. Standing in his entryway, practically glued to every inch of him, Traci pulled away at long last. She inhaled deeply, because somewhere in the midst of all those kisses, she’d forgotten to breathe. “I better go,” she whispered.

  “I know. We both need to get some sleep,” he murmured as he curved his palms around her cheeks and leaned down for another kiss.

  And she let him. Because, well, it was nice, she would rather make out with him than do just about anything else. And because once she left his house and headed back she was going to have to return to her real life.

  But finally, after another five minutes went by, she stepped back with a laugh. “No more
!” she teased. “If we go much further, I’m not going to want to leave.”

  “If we go much further, I’m going to want you to stay.”

  Oh boy. That was definitely what they did not need to be doing. For a number of reasons. She smiled. “Thank you for dinner. The salmon was delicious. The cupcakes were even better.”

  “Shoot.” He turned to the kitchen and picked up the pastry box filled with no less than twenty cupcakes inside. “I almost let you leave without them.”

  She smiled up at him. “My roommates will be very grateful. And don’t worry, if they think you made them, I won’t tell a soul.”

  He laughed. “I appreciate that. I’d hate it if you ruined my baking credentials.” Walking to the door, he said, “I’ll walk you out.”

  “I am a cop, you know. People pay me to keep them safe.”

  “Then don’t pay me a thing to look after you,” he said as he closed the door behind them and walked her out.

  And . . . there it was again. He was spouting those phrases that she didn’t think real men ever said. After clicking on her key fob, she held out her hands. “I’ll take these now. Thank you again.”

  He handed them off then stepped back. “Text me when you get home?”

  “I will. Good night, Matt.”

  “Night.”

  He stayed where he was until she started her car and backed out his drive. Then waved to her as she went on her way. And what had she done? She’d waved to him right back.

  Because she’d wanted to. Because she’d wanted to be that silly, giddy girl that she’d never been. Just for a while.

  And just like that, their awkward conversation came back to her. She knew what she was going to have to do.

  At the next stoplight, she pulled out her phone, scanned through her list of contacts, and then clicked on Jan’s name. As it rang, she realized she was both hoping and fearing that Jan would pick up.

  “Traci? Everything all right, girl?”