Waltz This Way

by Dakota Cassidy

  “Sherry,” he finished.

  Mel looked him straight in the eye. “Yes. Sherry. She’s his mother, and if we’re going to be involved, she’s a part of my life now, too. No matter how much on the outskirts of it she is.”

  “Fair enough. So, in light of Sherry, and the problems she’s created for Nate, I want to be as honest as possible with him about us. I want to tell him we’re involved, and that he can expect to be spending time with you outside of school.”

  “Without a doubt, I agree. So what are we calling this involved thing?”

  “Do you want my high school ring to wear around your neck so that as far as the eye can see, everyone will know you’re my girlfriend?”

  “Can you even find your high school ring?”

  “No.”

  She let her shoulders lift in a mock sigh. “Fine. No jewelry.”

  “How about a verbal agreement?”

  “That states?”

  “You’re my woman. Which means no dates with men named Ron who have mothers named Florence.”

  That he even remembered Ron’s name made her insides warm and gooey. “Aha, you were jealous.”

  “I was nothing of the sort. I was mortified you had such bad judgment.”

  “What can I say? We exchanged e-mails and pictures. You can just never tell.”

  “Well, you don’t have to tell anything anymore. Now that I’m your boyfriend and all, and you know what that means, don’t you?” Curving his hands under her ass, he rubbed his rigid shaft against the cleft between her thighs.

  “Does it mean I have to cook? Because no can do, pal. I only cook on special occasions.”

  He took her cup of coffee from her, planting it on the counter and nibbled on her neck. “This isn’t a special occasion? I just asked you to be my girlfriend.”

  Instantly, Mel’s hands went to his hair, clenching the soft strands with a soft moan. “Not special enough to make me want to cook.”

  “Well, let’s see if I can change your mind,” he cajoled, driving his hands under her borrowed shirt to cup her breasts.

  Mel decided, given his skills of coercion, he probably could.

  * * * *

  “Thanks for the ride home, boyfriend,” she giggled the words—giddy and girlish.

  He leaned over the console of the truck and kissed her. “Anytime, girlfriend. So, you wanna do something with Nate tonight?”

  She gave him a flirtatious smile. “You want to go dancing, don’t you?”

  “Like I want to lose a limb. How about a movie and dinner?”

  “Deal. Does Nate like French food? Do you? There’s this new place in the town over I’ve been dying to try since Jasmine told me about it. I love French food.”

  Drew’s face shifted a little, his affable expression losing some of its lightheartedness, his body growing stiff. “Your rich friend Jasmine from Maxine’s employment agency?”

  She was taken aback. “What does her bank account have to do with French food?”

  “French food is expensive. At least the French food I’ve eaten.”

  Mel frowned momentarily then forced a smile to her face with her solution. “Well, if it’s expensive, it’ll be my treat.”

  Now his lips grew hard, forming a thin line. “No go.”

  Mel titled her head, confused. “What?”

  “I said no go. I invited you, I pay.” His tone was one that clearly brooked no argument. It also smacked of a demand rather than a request, and that smacked of the need to control.

  “Said who?”

  His hands gripped the steering wheel in a tight clench. “Me.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Drew.”

  “It’s how it is.”

  “What era do you live in?”

  “The one where the man pays.”

  And that was just that? Because Drew said it, it would be? The. Hell. Her temper soared. “Well, when you decide to join us here in the year 2012, give me a call!” She pushed the truck door open and stomped into her father’s house without a backward glance.

  Knuckle-dragger.

  * * * *

  Mel spent the remainder of her weekend alternately angry and hurt, and angry that she’d allowed herself to be hurt. If Drew McPhee had stopped for one minute to realize her paycheck was probably less than his, he’d have realized she’d never suggest a costly restaurant.

  The fact that he wouldn’t allow her to pay made her irrationally angry. It was a ridiculous, archaic notion and she refused to put up with it. No one was going to take her independence from her ever again.

  Not even someone who had the power to make her cry herself to sleep with wet sobs muffled by her pillow while Weezer moaned his sympathies in her ear.

  No one was going to hold money over her head again either. It felt too much like a right to ownership. She was no man’s little woman anymore, and her trophy-wife days were long gone. She’d worked hard these last months to get on her feet and earn her own keep.

  She kept those angry thoughts in mind to keep her tanked up when she entered her classroom early, hoping the concealer and foundation she’d used to cover up the remains of her stinging heart were doing their job. Resting a hand on the ballet barre, she lifted her leg and leaned into a long stretch.

  “I’m a cad.”

  Mel’s head shot up. She pursed her lips, refusing to be drawn into the magnetic force field of Drew’s handsomeness.

  “No argument here.” She returned to her position at the barre and forced herself to dip into the stretch. No more backing down. No more letting everyone walk all over her while they did all the thinking for her.

  “That French place you were talking about?”

  Her spine stiffened. “What about it?”

  Drew approached her, laying his face sideways on the barre to meet her eyes. “I didn’t know it was just a food truck.”

  Mel’s lips thinned. “Why does that make a difference?”

  “I overreacted.”

  “Oh, you bet your radial arm saw you did. Did it ever occur to you that I can’t afford chic restaurants anymore?”

  “Obviously not. I only heard French and remembered the places Sherry and I used to go, and the fact that your lifestyle was once attached to a man who’s a millionaire.”

  “Billionaire, and here’s a tip. I’m not Sherry, and I’m not married to Stan anymore. You know, you’d think I’d have baggage. Wasn’t it me who was left with absolutely nothing but my dog and some dental floss? No job. No capacity or skills to earn my own living because all I’ve ever done is dance. No place to live. At least you had marketable skills. I just got lucky with this job. Stan may not have been an alcoholic, but he held all the cards, monetarily and otherwise. I’ve been hurt, too. Yet, I’ve managed to let go of most of my anger. You? Not so much. And they say women cling to the past.”

  Drew rose to his full height. “I admit to a certain sensitivity to situations like this, and sometimes my need to keep Nate from any more hurt becomes overbearing and stupidly overprotective.”

  She lifted her torso to stare at him dead on. “Don’t you use Nate as an excuse, Drew.”

  “It’s just the truth. I’m pretty cautious when it comes to him, and it’s one of the reasons I haven’t been seriously involved with anyone since my divorce. I don’t want to make the wrong choices. I won’t apologize for looking out for my son.”

  “And I would never ask you to. Looking out for him is one thing. Keeping him from French food I buy is just plain dumbass.”

  “I was wrong.”

  She said nothing, fighting a smile.

  “Really, really wrong,” he coaxed, his tone softening.

  Mel’s eyes narrowed; letting her leg fall, she rested her hand on her hip. There was something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but she decided not to ask until she had a clearer vision of what Drew’s underlying issue was with her paying for some food.

  Didn’t all those psychiatrists always say the argument you were having was n
ever what the real argument was about? “You were a total ass. I think you might need some lessons in sucking it up. Maybe you should put a call into Maxine.”

  “I don’t have her number,” he teased.

  “I can give it to you along with her pamphlets on divorce and letting go of your bitter baggage.”

  He looked skeptical. “Bitter baggage?”

  “Yeah. That’s her catchy phrase for hanging on to your past and judging everyone by your ex’s measuring stick. I judged you that way, and then I hit recovery full throttle. I hate to admit it, but Maxine’s advice, hokey as it sounds, makes perfect sense. And if I can do it, anyone can.”

  His look was that of genuine surprise. “You did that with me?”

  Mel’s smile was secretive. “No way am I feeding your ego. Suffice it to say, I worked it out. Or I thought I had until you turned into Stupidhead Man.”

  “I should have a cape or something and a costume with a big ‘S’ on it.”

  She giggled a snort. She couldn’t help it. “I’m really pissed off at you.”

  He shook a finger at her. “Yeah, but you’re cracking. I can see it.”

  “What I want to do is crack your head open.”

  “That would be messy, and I don’t think Ernie the janitor’s up for brain splatter.”

  “It’s nothing less than you deserve.”

  “I won’t disagree.”

  Mel’s face grew serious. “Let me make just one thing clear. I was someone’s toy for a long time. I didn’t know it, and had I realized it, I would have done something about it much sooner—before I was left without so much as a toothbrush. I had no life but my studio, and even that was something Stan held over my head. He paid the bills, he owned the building, and when he didn’t want it or me anymore, he took it away from me. Now I pay my own bills, and soon I’ll have my own roof over my head. No matter what happens in any relationship I’m in, I won’t be left high and dry again. I’m never letting anyone have that kind of power over me again.”

  “I didn’t realize it was a power struggle when I said I’d pay for dinner.”

  “It became one when you refused to let me because you thought my penchant for the high life is something I can’t give up or I miss so much I’d be willing to spend a quarter of my paycheck to revisit. I’ll have you know, via Maxine and all her kooky catchphrases, I’ve learned to live within my means, means that are modest at best. You also stole some of the joy I seem to be reaping from making my own living, and it made me want to flatten you.”

  He gave her a “meant to make her laugh” sad face. “I’m sorry I stole your thunder. I suck.”

  She was warming. “You sure do.”

  He reached for her fingers, loosely entwining them with his. “Can I make it up to you?”

  Mel was hesitant. “Are you hearing me? Really hearing me?”

  She had to know he got it, or there was no point in going any further, and as hard as it would be to let Drew go before they’d had a chance to really see if they worked, she’d do it if being with him meant sacrificing her lines in the sand. She’d hate every tear-filled, snot-dripping second, but she would.

  His nod was sharp. “I’m really hearing you.”

  Mel relaxed then. For the first time, she was drawing up all those boundaries Maxine had talked about, and it was good. “Okay.”

  He hauled her near him, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “So now that we’ve gotten our first official fight out of the way. You wanna try dinner again tonight?”

  Mel melted against him, relieved and empowered all at once.

  “Only if it’s really expensive.”

  Drew gazed down at her, his eyes amused. “Now who’s clinging to their baggage?”

  She laughed, putting her arms around his neck. “I had the best bags. Louis Vuitton. Gorgeous.”

  “I’m familiar with Louis.”

  “He was so good to me, but alas, our love affair’s over.”

  “Good thing. I’m a jealous guy.”

  She gave him a flirty smile just as the bell rang. “I’d have never pegged you for jealous. Now get out of here before the boys see us and we scar Nate for life.”

  Drew grabbed another quick kiss before saying “Speaking of Nate, I told him about us.”

  Mel shot him a hesitant glance. “Was he okay with it?”

  “He was awesome with it.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Phew. I’m glad I passed muster. Now go before they catch us.”

  Drew winked and smiled, then sauntered out of her classroom just as the boys filed in. They were whispering and laughing to each other, sharing sly looks as they passed Drew and slapping Nate on the back.

  Here came the difficult part. Keeping her private life private and not letting it interfere with Nate’s school life. “Boys? Something you care to share with me?” She was daring them to tease Nate openly.

  Each pair of eyes grew wide at being caught. Shoulders in various widths, covered in staid uniforms bumped up against one another.

  Mel crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. “That’s what I thought. So, we need to get the show on the road because Thanksgiving’s right around the corner and not long after that, Christmas break. We have a dance to attend, guys—with lots of lovely young ladies who’ll want strong, confident dance partners. Let’s get to work. R.J.? You’re up first.” She stood in hold position, waiting for R. J. to join her.

  Nate stood at the back of the room, tall, handsome, and with a big grin. He flipped her a thumbs-up to acknowledge her subtle defense of him.

  She smiled back and turned her attention to R. J., who summarily stepped on her toes the moment Emilio turned the music on.

  * * * *

  Neil watched Mel from outside through the window of her classroom and took a deep breath. If the rumors Theresa his assistant had told him were true, he had to move fast.

  But the timing had to be right, and he had to do it before Stan did. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Mel. She was happy now, probably happier than he’d ever seen her, and her life was back on track.

  He’d blow that all sky high and turn her past with Stan upside down.

  Shit.

  “Hey, Neil, right?”

  The voice from behind him was familiar from that night at the diner. He swung around to find Drew staring down at him. “Yeah. Drew, right?”

  “Yep. What brings you to Westmeyer? Do you need me to get Mel for you?”

  Neil put his hands in the pocket of his jacket. “I wish. I’m actually here for the biology teacher. Mel ‘Won’t Take No For An Answer’ set us up on a lunch date.”

  Drew laughed. “Gwen Timmons, but you don’t sound thrilled.”

  “Is anyone ever thrilled about having their best friend set them up on a date? But it’s Mel. Who could say no to that face?”

  Drew’s smile made Neil surer than ever he was as in love as Mel was. “I feel that, my friend. She’s hard to turn down.”

  “And she’s a good person.” He realized once the words were out of his mouth, they’d come out insistent and a little edgy, but if there was one thing he wasn’t going to do again, it was fail Mel.

  But Drew didn’t seem to notice. He appeared caught up in something in his head that made him smile. “She’s definitely that. I gotta run, man. But nice seeing you again—and have a great date.”

  Oh, it’d be super-duper. Neil forced his Hollywood smile to his face. “Thanks. Check you later.”

  As he made his way down the hall to locate Gwen, he tried Theresa one last time, but it went to voice mail so he left a message.

  “Theresa. The second you get this, get me that reporter from Hollywood Scoop.”

  * * * *

  Mel turned around in the seat of the truck to wave at Nate as she got in. “Hey, Nate!”

  He looked up from his phone and smiled. “Thanks for having my back today. I just want you both to know I’m cool with you dating, and I don’t care w
hat anyone says about it,” he said, very adult, very stoic.

  Drew frowned. “Someone said something about it?”

  Nate shrugged his shoulders with indifference. “Some of the guys saw you two before class started. They said you were holding hands so they razzed me about it. No big deal. Ms. Cherkasov shut them up.”

  Drew smiled his approval at her, taking her hand as they pulled from her father’s driveway. “So burgers in town tonight?”

  “Can we hit Joe’s Stand, Dad? He has the best chili cheeseburgers, Ms. Cherkasov.”

  “It might be a little cold for Mel, sitting outside,” Drew warned.

  “She’s from L. A. where it’s always sunny—even at night.”

  Mel waved a hand at them. “Cold schmold. I’m a tough old bird, I’ll have you know, I was raised in Jersey, just one town over from here, and nothing can keep me from a chili cheeseburger. I say we do it. I brought my scarf.” She tugged at the turquoise scarf around her neck to show them.

  “You’re all right, Ms. Cherkasov,” Drew said, smiling in her direction.

  “I have to draw the line at kissing,” Nate reminded them from the backseat.

  “Got it,” Mel said with a serious glance backward at him. “No kissing.”

  “Hey! Whose side are you on?” Drew protested, putting the car in park in front of Joe’s Hamburger Stand.

  Nate leaned forward, placing his arms on the back of the seats.

  “Seeing two adults, especially when one is your parent, kissing is gross. Research shows, it’s a natural adolescent reaction. One you carry into adulthood when your parents then decide you’re old enough to understand the birds and the bees, and they feel free to talk about it in front of you.”

  Drew pointed to the door with a bark of laughter. “Out, smart guy. Here—money. Go get us some chili cheeseburgers. I have to kiss Mel.”

  Nate scrambled out the door, laughing.

  Drew leaned over the console. “So, Ms. Cherkasov. I need a right and proper kiss. Lay one on me.”

  Mel leaned over, too. “Make it quick. Kissing’s gross.” she teased, sighing when his lips finally met hers after their weekend-long sabbatical.

  Drew’s tongue slid between her lips, caressing hers, until she was breathless and giddy with need. He pulled away, but only enough to mutter, “We’d better stop now or Joe’s is going to have its first indecent exposure.”