Symphony in Blue

by M. J. Duncan

  “Awesome. I’ll keep an eye out for you, then.”

  Gwen nodded again. “Okay. That sounds great.”

  “Good luck with the rest of your performance. Or is it break a leg? Do people actually say break a leg?”

  “They do,” Gwen confirmed with a smile.

  “Huh. Okay, then.” Dana sighed and smiled. “Then I hope you break a leg.”

  Gwen gave her a small bow. “Thank you.” The ballroom doors at the end of the hall opened, and She sighed when she saw Robert Chang, the bride’s father, poke his head out. “I’m afraid I need to get back in there.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

  Gwen nodded as she took a deep breath, and flashed Dana one last smile before she turned on her heel and made her way back toward the ballroom. “I was just taking a small break,” she explained as she neared the doors. Which he should have known, because these few minutes had been outlined in the contract they had agreed to four months ago. “I’m ready to go again whenever you are.”

  “Now would be wonderful,” he said, backing up and holding the door open for her. “Thank you.”

  Gwen smiled politely. “Of course.” She wandered back into the ballroom and made her way to the stage where her cello waited for her. Two more hours, she told herself as she picked up her cello and retook her seat. She looked out over the crowd and sighed.

  Two more hours.

  FOUR

  Gwen was exhausted by the time she got back to her room after performing, but it was more mental than physical. While she appreciated the brief vacation and healthy paycheck playing the Chang wedding provided her, she still thought it was ridiculous that they would spend so much money to have a solo cellist for a wedding reception. Sure, a few of the older guests had tried to dance to some of the pieces she played, but even they had given up after a waltz or two, and the majority of the guests just spent the evening at their tables, talking amongst themselves.

  It was, without a doubt, the most boring wedding she had ever been to.

  She glanced out the sliding glass doors to her balcony that overlooked the beach, and groaned as she braced a hand on the armoire to take off her heels. She stretched and wiggled her toes as she studied her reflection in the mirror. A few tendrils of hair on either temple had slipped from the low, braided bun she had pulled her hair into for the evening, but her makeup was still immaculate and her dress was certainly appropriate for a wedding reception on the beach. The nylons she was wearing, however, were not—and she wasted no time stripping them from her legs and tossing them aside.

  “Much better,” she declared to herself as she slipped her feet into the black flip-flops she had brought with her. They weren’t even remotely dressy enough to be appropriate for a wedding, but she was willing to bet that nobody would notice, or care about the condition of her footwear. Hell, if the few hours she spent with Regan the night before and then earlier that day were any indication, she had a feeling the majority of the wedding guests would already be three-sheets to the wind by the time she got down there anyway.

  She took a deep breath as she gave herself one last once-over in the mirror, and let it go slowly as she palmed her room key, choosing to leave her phone on the nightstand where she had set it to charge while she had been performing. Her dress didn't have pockets, but she figured Dana wouldn’t mind holding onto her key for her. Besides, with the exception of a couple texts from Luke, who was in Santa Barbara wine tasting with his fiancé Jay, her phone had been silent since she arrived, and she had no reason to expect that to change anytime soon.

  It was an oddly freeing feeling to be so completely on her own, with no tether to her life and responsibilities back in Los Angeles, and she felt her smile growing wider as she stepped out of her room and made her way to the elevator down the hall. Once she was back in LA she would have to resume her routine of rehearsals and performances and recordings and commitments, but for the next few hours, she was looking forward to letting go for a bit and just having a little fun.

  Lord knows she deserved it after surviving the last week of twelve-hour days in the studio recording scores for a handful of television shows on top of her regular busy schedule.

  She glanced at the penguins in their little biome as she passed through the lobby to the large patio that broke into a handful of paths that snaked through the resort’s grounds. She took the path she had chosen earlier that morning, the one that cut over the pool and led to the beach, and wasn’t all that surprised when she could hear music being pumped through a sound system by the time she reached the far end of the pool.

  The song was a favorite with her local radio station back home at the moment, and she hummed along with it as she approached the tiki torch lit grassy area that fronted the sand. A DJ stand was set up on one end of the lawn, and the wide grassy area in front of it had been transformed into a dance floor. In the center of the dance floor, slow-dancing in a sea of gyrating bodies that bobbed and swayed with the up-tempo beat, was a familiar smiling redhead in a gorgeous white gown, and in her arms was a petite brunette in a similar ensemble. They looked so happy that Gwen felt her throat tighten a little as she watched them, and a part of her wondered if she would ever get to experience anything like that herself.

  “Hey, you made it.”

  “Of course.” Gwen smiled as she turned to look at Dana. “I told you I would.”

  “Yeah, well…” Dana bit her lip, her eyes flicking down to the ground for the briefest of moments before returning to meet Gwen’s. “Still. I’m glad you’re here.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the small bar that was set up on the northernmost edge of the reception. “Can I get you a drink or something?”

  Gwen nodded. “Sure. I’ll come with you. Oh, and before I forget”—she smiled hopefully as she held up her room key—“could you hold this for me? My dress doesn’t have pockets.”

  “Of course.” Dana slipped the key into her right front pocket as she tipped her head toward the bar and started leading the way toward it, holding out a hand to steer drunken guests away from them as they passed. They wound their way through the narrow path that cut between round tables covered with bright pink tablecloths, and Dana glanced at Gwen as they got in line at the bar. “So, how did the rest of your performance go?”

  “It was fine. Basically the same as what you saw when you stopped by.”

  “So it was a total rager…”

  Gwen laughed. “Exactly.” She nodded at the bar as the people in front of them left with their drinks. “We’re up.”

  Dana smiled. “What would you like?”

  “Whatever you’re having is fine.”

  “HEY! GWEN!” Regan bellowed from behind them.

  Dana grimaced. “I’m sorry for whatever she’s about to do or say.”

  Gwen chuckled. “It’s fine.”

  “Hey sexy lady.” Regan slipped an arm around Dana’s waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She giggled as she pulled away, sighing happily as she leaned her head on Dana’s shoulder as she looked at Gwen. “So, we meet again…”

  “We do, indeed,” Gwen agreed. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Regan smirked. “So, shots?”

  “I’m not—” Gwen started to protest.

  “I don’t think—” Dana began at the same time.

  “AWESOME!” Regan shouted, overriding their incomplete protests with an exuberant grin. She looked at the bartender and said, “A round of tequila shots for me and my friends, here.”

  “Of course.” The bartender lined three shot glasses up on the bar and then turned to grab the half-empty bottle of tequila that was on the sideboard behind him.

  Gwen shook her head at the horrified look Dana was giving her. “It’s fine,” she whispered.

  “You’re sure?” Dana asked.

  Gwen nodded.

  “Here you go,” Regan declared as she handed Dana and Gwen each a shot. She then picked up her own glass and held it between them. “Cheer
s!” She winked at Gwen and Dana as they tapped their glasses to hers and echoed the sentiment, and then knocked the shot back. “God, I fucking love tequila.”

  Gwen locked eyes with Dana as they did the same. The tequila was incredibly smooth going down, and she licked her lips as she set her empty shot glass back onto the bar. “That was good.”

  “Like I’d serve cheap-ass tequila at my fucking wedding,” Regan retorted, looking offended at the thought. She looked at the bartender and waved her right index finger in a circle. “One more round, if you don’t mind, my good man.”

  “Waterman,” Dana sighed.

  “Come on, Ryan. Loosen up!” Regan grinned and held her arms up over her head as she bumped Dana’s thigh with her hip. “I got married! We need to celebrate!”

  Gwen laughed.

  “Please don’t encourage her,” Dana muttered.

  “Encourage her,” Regan countered with a wink. “We’re going to do one more round, and then you lovely ladies are going to come dance with me.”

  “Oh we are, are we?” Dana challenged. “And if we don’t want to?”

  “Then it sucks to be you, because your asses are dancing whether you want to or not.” Regan distributed the shots glasses the bartender had just refilled for them all. “Now, drink up, bitches.” She slammed her shot and pointed at Dana with the once-again empty glass. “Need to liquor up the white girl in ya so you can get your groove thing on.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Dana demanded, looking so genuinely offended that it was all Gwen could do to not burst out laughing. “I can dance just fine without alcohol, thank you very much.”

  “Uh huh, yeah.” Regan smirked. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

  “Oh my god.” Dana shook her head. “You’re wasted.”

  “Damn right I am. And you, my handsome friend, need to catch the fuck up already,” Regan retorted.

  “I am so sorry,” Dana apologized to Gwen.

  “It’s fine,” Gwen assured her with a smile as she lifted her drink to her lips. She knocked back the shot and looked at Regan as she set the glass on the counter. “Happy now?”

  “I am!” Regan launched herself at Gwen in a tackle-hug that nearly sent them both to the ground.

  “Whoa, there,” Gwen murmured as she struggled to keep them upright. Dana looked ready to jump in and help if needed, but she assured her with a look that she was okay.

  Regan hummed happily and started petting Gwen’s hair. “You’re pretty.”

  “Aww, thanks.” Gwen chuckled and bumped Regan’s forehead with her own. In a different world, she would have loved to see her and Luke together—they really were two peas in a pod. “You’re pretty too. I really like your dress.”

  Regan smeared a sloppy kiss across Gwen’s cheek. “Thanks!”

  Dana groaned and downed her shot. “There. Done. Happy? Let’s go find your wife before she catches you molesting this poor woman who only met us twenty-four hours ago.”

  “My wife!” Regan yelled, letting go of Gwen’s neck and grabbing her hand as she turned to the dance floor. “Come on, Gwen. You need to meet Brooke!”

  Gwen laughed as she allowed herself to be dragged along behind Regan, and held out a hand to Dana. “You can’t leave me alone with her.”

  Dana smirked. “And if I did?” she challenged, even as she took Gwen’s hand.

  Gwen gave her hand a light squeeze as they snaked their way through the maze of tables that separated them from the dance floor. “I would never forgive you.”

  “Oh, well, in that case, I guess it’s a good thing I’m tagging along then,” Dana replied as she threaded their fingers together.

  The more solid hold, as it turned out, was the only thing that kept Gwen on her feet when Regan suddenly jerked her forward by her other arm as she called out, “BROOKE!”

  “Wow,” Gwen murmured as Regan let go of her hand to leap into her wife’s arms and she struggled to maintain her balance.

  “Easy, Waterman.” Dana reached out with her free hand to help steady Gwen. Her grip was light, just enough to keep Gwen from swaying on her feet, and her brows lifted with concern as she asked, “You okay?”

  Gwen nodded, feeling distinctly lightheaded. She knew she was a lightweight when it came to drinking, but she had not expected to be quite this off-balance from those shots. She smiled shyly as Dana stepped closer, the hold on her hip tightening by a fraction as if Dana was worried that she still might fall over. “I…yeah.”

  “You’re sure?” Dana pressed, her head tilting to the side as her eyes danced over Gwen’s face.

  The lightheadedness Gwen had been feeling faded as she stared at Dana, replaced with a pleasant warmth that spread through her face and chest. Gwen grinned. It had been far too long since she had last let loose enough to enjoy anything like the buzz she was feeling now. Come tomorrow, she would be back to her usual routine, but for tonight, she was more than happy to just roll with whatever happened and have some fun. “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “Hey! Gwen Harrison! This is my wife, Brooke!”

  Gwen turned and smiled at Regan, who was gazing lovingly at the brunette she had been dancing with when Gwen first arrived. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Brooke replied, smirking as she shook Gwen’s hand.

  It was clear that she had heard about her in some form or another, but before Gwen could try and learn what, exactly, she had been told, Regan leaned in and smacked Dana on the ass.

  “Shake it, Ryan!” Regan shouted.

  Dana huffed a disbelieving breath and shook her head at Regan. “Seriously?”

  “Do you need more alcohol to loosen you up still?” Regan asked, looking adorably concerned. Her head swiveled as she looked around the crowded dance floor and shouted, “CAN WE GET ANOTHER ROUND OF TEQUILA OUT HERE?”

  “ON IT!” a disembodied voice from somewhere in the crowd replied loudly.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dana told Regan.

  Regan smiled and patted Dana’s arm as she leaned into Brooke. “Oh, my sweet summer child. Have I taught you nothing over the years? Tequila is always a good idea. Right, babe?” she added, batting her lashes at Brooke.

  Brooke nodded. “Sure.”

  “Traitor,” Dana muttered.

  Gwen laughed.

  Dana huffed a little laugh and shot Gwen a pleading look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

  “Sorry?” Gwen apologized.

  “Yeah, that smile on your face is telling me you don’t really mean it,” Dana pointed out with an amused smile of her own.

  “Here you go, m’ladies,” a man in a pair of khaki dress pants and a blue dress shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows announced as he stopped beside them with a tray full of tequila shots. He was the spitting image of Regan—right down to his copper-colored hair and striking green eyes—and looked to be around the same age, and Gwen looked between the two as she tried to figure out if they were twins.

  “Thanks, bro,” Regan said as she grabbed two of the glasses for herself.

  “No prob,” the man replied with a grin as he grabbed one of the shots and tossed it back.

  “You need to cut loose for one damn night and have some fun,” Brooke told Dana as she plucked a shot glass off the tray and handed it to her. “You can go back to being Ms. Uber-fitness-my-body-is-a-temple tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” Regan nodded. “Listen to my wife!” She handed the shot glass in her left hand to Gwen and added, “You too!”

  Gwen’s eyes went wide as she reflexively took the glass. She should have known better, really, but she had honestly not expected to get roped into their shenanigans. “I…”

  Dana laughed. “See what happens when you encourage her?”

  Gwen glanced at the glass in her hand and nodded. “Yeah…”

  “Gimme another one, Robbie,” Regan said as she reached for the tray.

  “Drink up, Ryan!” Rob goaded, nudging Dana with his elbow as he
held the tray of shots out for his sister to choose from.

  “Dude, Rob.” Dana turned to him. “Seriously?”

  He grinned and nodded. “Seriously.”

  “Seriously,” Regan echoed as she lifted her shot glasses in the air. “On three?”

  “Why not?” Brooke agreed. She smirked and arched a brow at Dana. “You know you’re not getting out of this.”

  “You could always drink it for me,” Dana told her with a hopeful smile.

  “No!” Regan shook her head.

  “Sorry, D.” Brooke laughed and tilted her head at Regan. “Not gonna happen.”

  “Fuck it. Fine.” Dana looked at Gwen and added in a softer tone, “You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want to. Just because I’m stuck with these idiots doesn’t mean—”

  Gwen smiled, touched by the concern that was so evident in Dana’s expression. “One more won’t kill me.”

  “THAT’S THE SPIRIT!” Regan cheered, grinning proudly at Gwen. “Okay!” She looked around at the group. “On three! One…two…three…”

  They all downed their shots and set their empties on the tray Rob held out for them. “Thank you all.” Rob bowed. “Just holler if you need another round,” he told Regan.

  “Will do,” Regan assured him with a sloppy salute as he turned and headed back toward the bar.

  When he was gone, Dana arched a brow at Regan. “Happy now?”

  Regan beamed and nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Good,” Dana laughed. “Now go dance with your wife.”

  Regan’s grin widened. “I got a wife!” She looked at Brooke. “And she’s hot!”

  “Bet your ass I am,” Brooke agreed as she took Regan’s hand and pulled her close. “Dance with me, Mrs. Waterman.”

  Gwen chuckled and shook her head as she looked from the happy couple to Dana. “Wow.”

  “You got that right,” Dana agreed, smiling after her friends.

  “Are they always like this?”

  Dana took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  “Wow.”

  Regan looked up at them and rolled her eyes. “Goddamn it, Ryan. Do I need to do everything for you? I know that you’re more than sufficiently liquored up now and you’ve got a pretty girl standing right next to you, so ask the pretty girl to dance, already!” Regan commanded, pointing at Gwen.