the Dance

by Alison G. Bailey

  My gaze seared into his long enough to communicate my nonverbal fuck you. I turned on my heels and walked out the door with my head held high. The sense of relief and empowerment propelled me down the hall. Before leaving the rehab I made a pit stop at the nurse’s station to give them the address of where Will would be spending the rest of his recovery . . . his parents.

  Once in my car I sent a quick text to Sophie.

  Me: Sorry but I need to cancel lunch.

  Sophie: You okay?

  Me: Better than okay. I’ll explain later. I love you.

  Sophie: Love you too.

  I scrolled through my contacts and clicked on the number I needed.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hey stranger.”

  “I know. Sorry about that. Are you and Daddy going to be home for the next few hours?”

  “Sure. All we have planned today is yard work.”

  “Okay, I’m headed your way.”

  “Wonderful. I know you’ve been busy with Will but I feel like I haven’t seen my sweet girl in such a long time.”

  I swallowed the large lump in my throat as I blinked back tears. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you too, Bryson.”

  I wasn’t sure how I was going to live on my own and was scared my parents would be disappointed in me when I told them about the divorce. But I couldn’t control anyone or anything except myself and my actions. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I knew I was capable of handling whatever came my way.

  The conversation with my parents was full of tears, hugs, and understanding. They reiterated over and over that they’d support me no matter what and that their only concern was my happiness. Mom said she’d fill in Ryan and a few close family and friends on the situation. After the emotional visit I headed home for a bit of a breather before my dinner with Hart.

  As I walked toward the house, my eyes soaked in the beautiful southern porch. Strangers driving by would think the people living just beyond the threshold had a perfect life. They’d never guess how much turmoil swirled within the walls. They wouldn’t see the loss of commitment and trust. They wouldn’t hear the demeaning and humiliating words or the sobs that filled the air. No, they’d look at the outside and wish they were inside. A weak smile crossed my lips as I realized that the porch had done its job well.

  Entering the house I thought about how Will and I breathed life into every nook and cranny. We took our time making sure the tiniest details were exactly the way we wanted. Our dreams of raising a family and spoiling grandkids. I dropped my purse on the small foyer table and wandered the downstairs. I passed the home office, the two guestrooms, the family room, the kitchen. Without our dreams the house felt new, like a blank canvas. Just like I did.

  There was no better way to end a day than with Hart. As I walked into his place I swooned and laughed at the sight of him trying to open the can of refrigerated breadsticks with a knife while Butter looked up licking her chops. It was a good thing I stopped by The Bread Shop for a loaf of fresh garlic bread.

  Since he seemed so determined with the project, I helped him get the can of dough open, forming it into something resembling breadsticks, and into the oven. After that, I insisted on making the salad and cooking the pasta while he stuck to pouring the wine.

  Sitting at his table, our plates piled high with the dinner we’d made together, Hart raised his bottle of beer. “We make a pretty good team.”

  His words caused my stomach to flutter.

  I held up my wine glass and we clinked. “Yeah, we do.”

  I watched over the brim of my glass as Hart twirled the spaghetti around his fork and slipped it between his lips. I swallowed hard as he slowly pulled the fork from his mouth, remembering how he looked up at me last night as my breast slowly slid from his mouth. His eyes closed as he moaned with a look of pure pleasure crossing his face. A loud sigh drifted out of me.

  Hart opened his eyes, aiming them directly at me. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m just thoroughly enjoying your foodgasm.”

  “Wait till we have dessert,” he said, winking.

  We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before I shattered the mood.

  “Will was released today.” I blurted it out in such a random manner.

  Hart sat back and took a swig of his beer. “So, he’s back home.”

  He tried to hide it but I could tell his jaw was clenched and his grip had tightened around the bottle.

  “When the girl of your dreams comes back into your life, control is the last thing you have.”

  “He’ll be at his parents’ house for the rest of his recovery.” Hart visible relaxed. “I told my family about the divorce today. I guess the next step is to lawyer up.”

  Reaching over, Hart took my hand in his, running his thumb over my knuckles. “You okay?”

  I gave a slight nod. “It’s weird. For the last several months I struggled to picture my life without Will. I was never able to get a clear view of what it would look like. The only thing I could see and feel was my fear. I thought about all the things he handled in our marriage. The boring stuff like fixing things around the house, taking the cars in for repairs, and finances. Nothing I couldn’t learn but it was just easier to let him take care of it. The picture is still a little hazy but the fear is gone. I have a lot to learn and I’ll make mistakes but that’s okay. I’m going to be okay.”

  Hart gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m so proud of you, Bryson.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I have you to thank for a lot of it. You have no idea . . . you’ve given me the strength and courage to believe in myself and take control of my life.”

  Hart let go of my hand and backed away from the table, moving closer to me. Placing his hands on either side of my face, he sank his fingers into my hair as he pulled me to his mouth. The kiss was slow, deep, passionate, and left me breathless. Once it broke, Hart ran the tip of his nose along mine before our foreheads came together. The words I love you pushed against my lips but I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep them from breaking through.

  After his breathing went back to normal, Hart gave me a quick peck on the lips and said, “That’s what friends are for.” I bit down harder on my cheek, focusing on the pain as my heart slowed. “I want to give you something.”

  I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips, not letting on how his words affected me.

  “Not that. At least not right now,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me up from the chair.

  With a mischievous glimmer in his smoky eyes he rolled backward, leading me to the sofa.

  “Sit. I’ll be right back.”

  Hart headed down the hallway toward his bedroom while Butter slinked up in front of me looking for a head rub. As I looked into her warm caramel eyes, I wished I was a dog. Life would be less complicated.

  Butter hopped up wagging her tail at the sound of Hart coming back into the room. As he rounded the sofa, her wet black nose sniffed at the large white box with red ribbon he was carrying. He held out the box to me. My gaze bounced from it to his excited expression.

  “Open it.” The hint of a smile crossed his lips.

  “What is it?”

  “If you open it you’ll find out.”

  I was in such shock that when I reached for the gift, it looked more like I was picking up a bomb. Setting the large box on the coffee table, I pulled at one end of the ribbon, causing it to twist undone. Before lifting the lid, I glanced at Hart. His excitement from earlier seemed to have morphed into nervousness.

  Tilting my head, I said, “Nothing’s going to pop out at me, is it?”

  “Nothing from the box.”

  I took off the lid, placing it to the side before separating the red tissue paper. My chest tightened as I slowly ran my fingertips over the material. Biting my bottom lip, I tried to stop the tears from coming but it was useless.

  “Bryson?”


  I looked at him, with a continuous stream running down my cheeks and choked out. “I c-c-an’t be-lieve you did th-is.”

  Reaching inside, I pulled out the white chef’s jacket with my name embroidered in black over the pocket.

  “I guessed at the size. If it doesn’t work for you I can take it back.”

  My head kept shaking back and forth. “When did you have time to do this? I just told you about the job last night.”

  Grinning, he said, “I told you this morning I had errands to run.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Your reaction is more than enough.”

  Without another word, I folded the jacket and placed it back in the box. I got up and crawled into Hart’s lap. Not wasting any time, my fingers dove into his hair as I devoured his mouth, my tongue swirling and pushing in as far as it could go. Loud deep moans echoed in the room as his fingers dug into my hips. Heat radiated off our bodies, filling the air to the point of suffocation. As much as I tried, I couldn’t seem to get close enough. I fisted his gray crewneck, tugging him to me. His hands traveled up my sides, settling on either side of my face. I tore my lips away from his, letting them lick and bite their way over his neck to behind his ear.

  “Thank you,” I whispered then nipped at his earlobe. “It’s the sweetest most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  His hand made its way south, sliding up to my inner thigh. “You deserve it. You deserve everything.”

  “I love it.”

  I love you.

  I yanked the bottom of his shirt as high as I could before Hart’s hand stopped me.

  His voice was low and husky. “It’s getting late.” I froze. “You need a good night’s sleep before your big day tomorrow.”

  Rejection invaded my stomach, causing it to harden and feel hollow as I removed my lips from his skin.

  I angled myself away from him, dropping my head. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll head out after I clean up.”

  I attempted to stand but Hart’s arm snaked around my waist, holding me in place.

  “Bryson, look at me.” When I didn’t, he added. “Please.”

  I blinked several times, pushing back the tears before gazing into his concerned eyes. “Sorry, I’m just nervous about tomorrow.”

  Brushing the hair away from my face, he placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “You’re going to do great.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Go on home and get a good night’s sleep. I’ll clean up.”

  I wondered why Hart was being so persistent with trying to get me to leave. The hollow feeling in my stomach moved to my chest as I gathered my things. I gave Butter one last pat on the head before going to the door.

  “Good luck with tomorrow and call me. I want to know how things went,” he said, quickly glancing down at his watch.

  “The place is closed on Mondays so all I’ll be doing is filling out paperwork and getting familiar with the equipment and procedures.”

  He took my hand and caught my gaze. “I still want to know how your day went.” I turned to leave. “Bryson, are you sure everything’s okay?”

  I needed to get out of there. If he asked me one more time if everything was okay I was going to blow and pummel him with questions. I couldn’t act like a suspicious jealous girlfriend because I wasn’t his girlfriend. He didn’t owe me any explanation on how or with whom he spent his time with.

  I plastered a fake smile on my face and tried to sound nonchalant. “It’s all good. I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

  I turned on my heels and sprinted to my car. Hart stayed in the doorway as I pulled out of the driveway. As I passed Miss Polly’s house another car turned down the street headed in my direction. I didn’t pay it much attention when it drove by. Glancing in the rearview mirror I stopped breathing as the car pulled into Hart’s driveway. I pressed the gas pedal, whipped around the corner, and headed home.

  He’s a nice guy being nice.

  Just two friends helping each other out.

  “When the girl of your dreams comes back into your life, control is the last thing you have.”

  My head was screaming that Hart wasn’t doing anything wrong but I didn’t have the stomach to watch Amber get out of that car and walk into his house.

  Two more weeks passed with no contact from Will whatsoever. I knew he couldn’t have been back at work yet but his salary was direct deposited in our joint account like always and the bills got paid like always. Sophie kept pushing me to find out what was going on with him. I planned on doing just that but wanted to get used to being a part of the workforce before tackling anything else. It’s easy to be brave when you’re just thinking about doing something. It’s a whole other ball of wax when you actually take action and do it.

  Things with Hart were perfect, except for me falling in love with him and his commitment to our deal . . . kind of. He called a few minutes after I got home the night he gave me the chef’s jacket, making sure I was safe and that my nerves weren’t getting the best of me. We stayed on the phone until the sound of his voice had me so relaxed I drifted off to sleep. If he’d been with Amber or anyone else, my well-being wouldn’t have crossed his mind.

  It’s highly possible I misinterpreted his actions and the car I thought I saw pull into his driveway. The car could have been lost and was turning around or I mistook a neighbor’s driveway for Hart’s. Either way he spent the rest of that night with me even if it was only his voice. I hated that my mistrust of Will bled into my relationship with Hart. Not that it was a relationship in the boyfriend/girlfriend sense, I kept telling my heart.

  The more I was around Hart the more I wished I’d listened to Sophie years ago. If I’d taken her advice and taken a break from Will, I’d have a wider frame of reference when it came to how guys operated. As it stood right now, I couldn’t figure out if Hart was confusing or I was just confused. Adding sex into the mix wasn’t what baffled me. There was no question Hart and I had chemistry and craved each other. In fact, having sex with him was the least confusing part of the situation. It was the time before and after we were in his bed . . . or in his chair . . . or on his sofa . . . or in his car. Then there was that time in his shower with the handheld showerhead and loofah. Oh . . . and the time he had me lying naked across the conference table in his office . . . his tongue and hands were truly magical. Anyway, it was what happened between our sexy times that I couldn’t wrap my head around.

  Will was never affectionate with me unless it led to sex. Even when we first started dating he rarely held my hand. Hart treated me in a very loving way. I melted with each sweet kiss and light touch. The way his eyes roamed over my body when I was fully clothed caused goosebumps to appear on every inch of my body. And when he talked, I swooned at least five times from his words no matter how long the conversation lasted. Without Hart knowing, I caught him looking at me on several occasions. The struggle was evident in his eyes, especially those times when he thought I was asleep and he was safe from being discovered. I’d read enough romance novels to know all these things added up to a boyfriend. But for every boyfriendy move he made, a “friend” comment usually followed, “that’s what friends are for,” or “I care because you’re my friend.” Sometimes I thought he was trying harder to convince himself of this more than me.

  My first day at Good Eats went well. Nancy had me fill out all the necessary paperwork. I felt stupid when I had to ask her which box to mark indicating how much I wanted taken out in taxes. She answered, never blinking an eye at the fact that a twenty-six-year-old grown woman didn’t know how to fill out a simple form. I spent the rest of the day learning how to operate the equipment, who was in charge of each area, and a more detailed description of what I’d be doing.

  My second day at Good Eats was like jumping into a fire. There were three big luncheons we were catering. I breathed a sigh of relief when Nancy first told me I’d be on salad prep until I was actually on salad prep. Thi
ngs started out okay but quickly turned as the hustle and impatience increased in the kitchen. There were a few times I thought I’d been hired by Chef Gordon Ramsey instead of the little petite gray-haired lady. That morning was a chaotic blur but everything got out on time and the clients were happy. And I guessed Nancy was happy too because she’s let me come back every day for the past two weeks.

  “Bryson!”

  My name shot across the kitchen as I was finishing up cleaning for the day. It was past nine o’clock and I was the only other person here besides Nancy, who was sitting at her desk in the corner of the giant space. She had a nice office separate from this area but rarely used it, preferring instead to huddle in the corner for some reason. Her gaze remained focused on a big book in front of her as she held an envelope in the air. I dried my hands on the white towel I had slung over my shoulder as I walked toward her.

  Standing in front of her desk, I fidgeted with the hem of my chef’s jacket waiting for her to speak. Even after being around her for two weeks, sometimes ten hours a day, Nancy still intimidated me. She may have been only five feet four but her personality was a solid six five.

  Not looking up, she waved the mystery envelope in the air. My mind raced with possibilities of what was inside it. Maybe I made a mistake on a form and needed to redo it. Maybe it was payday. At the moment my nerves were taking over and I couldn’t remember if it was. Maybe it was a reprimand. Three strikes and I’m out. Off the top of my head I couldn’t think of anything major I’d done wrong. Or maybe it was a pink slip. Never having a job meant never having been fired. So I didn’t know for sure if a pink slip was pink or even came in a white envelope that Nancy was still waving in the air. I swallowed hard, took a step forward, and reached for the envelope.

  Since she never looked up, I assumed she wasn’t in the mood to explain what this was, so I kept it short and sweet. “Well, goodnight.”

  The hand that had been holding the envelope popped up and gave a slight wave. I slowly backed away, clutching the paper to my chest. My heart pounded as I grabbed my coat and purse and headed to my car. Before pulling out of the parking lot, I stared at the envelope, debating whether to open it now or wait until I got home.