“I didn’t say that we . . .” I lean over and whisper even though I don’t think there are any cameras in the woods. “Do you know!”
“You didn’t have to, but your secret is safe with me.”
I start to deny it but her look says not to even go there, so I don’t. “So you think I should go after him instead of sticking to the resistance rule that I agreed to?”
“Well, hell yeah.”
I take a spoonful of my fresh fruit cup. “Wow, there’s watermelon in here,” I comment and then ask, “How would I go about goin’ after him?”
“You’re dancing the rumba this week, right?”
“Yes . . . God, and those figure-eight hip rolls are hard to do.”
Julia wags her eyebrows. “Well then, make smokin’-hot Rio sweat.”
“He almost never sweats and I do think his hips are double-jointed if you ask me.”
“I don’t mean from exertion, although that hopefully will come later. I mean from . . . wantin’ you. Oh, Abby, you can seduce him with the dance, girl. Easy as pie. He’ll just think you’re workin’ it for the competition when you’re really tryin’ to get his boots . . . or make that his dancin’ shoes . . . under your bed.” She swallows a sip of her cranberry juice. “But actually you’d be killin’ two birds with one stone if you think about it. Abby, you’re not between a rock and a hard place, girl. You’re in a win-win situation.”
“You think?” I’m not so nearly convinced that this is a good plan or that I can pull it off. “Julia, I don’t know . . .”
She shrugs. “It’s up to you. Just don’t let that Angelina chick have him, okay?”
“If you don’t let her have Danny!”
A cloud of sadness passes over her face.
“Oh, don’t give me that. You’ve got more fight in you than that, Julia. We can’t let this woman come in here and take over like she owns the place, now, can we?”
“No damn way!” Julia says, sloshing a bit of juice. “Misty Creek is our turf.” We tap our juice bottles together in a silent toast.
“Did we just bond again, Julia?”
“Yep, it’s official now. The other night wasn’t a fluke induced by the wine.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re gonna do this, right? Not wuss out on me?”
“Ye’re damned tootin’,” I say so loud that a squirrel scurries up a nearby tree. Of course I’m not really as confident as I let on. And I’m still wondering what the scene with Angelina was all about. “This is crazy, isn’t it?”
“You mean leaving our regular jobs and doing this thing?”
While chewing on a bite of turkey sandwich I nod. “Do ya think sometimes you might just wake up and be cutting hair?”
“Yeah. And I keep wondering how it’s all gonna turn out, don’t you?”
Still chewing, I nod. The sandwich is pretty good.
Julia brushes the crumbs off her jeans and then polishes off her juice. “Well, I’d better get back. I’m doing the Viennese waltz.”
“How pretty!”
Julia wrinkles her nose. “It’s almost as boring as the fox-trot. And we’re dancing to ‘Chim-Chim Cheree’ from Mary Poppins. James, my dance partner, is insisting that we dress up like Mary and Bert.” She rolls her eyes. “Now, how corny is that?”
I shrug. “I think it will be cute.”
“Maybe. I pitched a fit but he would have none of it. He pitched a fit right back. Every time I stomped my foot he stomped harder. It’s a wonder we can dance at all.”
“You like him, though, don’t you?”
“Oh, he’s amazing, so yeah.”
“I think it’ll be supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
With a giggle Julia stands up and gives my shoulder a playful shove. “Hope you’re right. Well, see you later.”
I nod but opt to sit there for a while longer since I don’t have to be back to rehearse for over an hour. I think about how different Julia is than what I always imagined. Then my thoughts shift to Mama and Jesse. I wonder if Mama is seeing Mitchell and I think about how her life has changed too. And how about Jesse having this hidden comedy writing talent? Who knew? I shake my head, thinking that none of us will ever be able to go back to who we were before this whole thing got started.
After a few minutes I realize that I had better get up to my room to study. After all, how am I going to seduce Rio with the rumba if I can’t even do the darned dance?
I realize too that I’m coming to like ballroom dancing and that I’ll really miss it once the show is over. It’s really funny that something that I never even considered is now so important to me. Life sure is strange.
18
A Whole New Spin on Things
As I’m sitting here waiting my turn to get fitted for my costume for the dress rehearsal tonight I’m glumly realizing that my plans of seduction have fallen flat. No amount of sexy hip rolls, heated looks, pouting lips, near kisses, or lingering touches has gotten Rio into my bed. The best I’ve gotten is a pat on the back for dancing a hellava rumba. While that’s nice and all I’m still not any closer to my goal.
I was lamenting this whole thing last night with Julia and she made me pinky-swear that I wouldn’t give up. I’m wondering, though, just what else I can do without being totally obvious. Not that she has any room to talk since she isn’t any closer to getting Danny’s boots under her bed either. And he’s been seen everywhere with Angelina. Julia says they’re doing the tango this week. She knows this because she admits to peeking in on their rehearsals even though it’s written in the packet that spying on other dancers is against the rules. She also said that Danny and Angelina are damned good.
I’m so deep in thought that I don’t even hear Jackie the makeup and wardrobe chickie call my name until she shouts it very close to me, making me jump out of my seat. I would have gotten a bit peeved but the costumes arrived a day late so she’s scrambling to get us all fitted and under a bit of stress. I follow her into the fitting room that’s crammed full of racks of colorful stuff. Her assistants are buzzing around in a state of near hysteria . . . pinning, sewing, gluing like mad. I spot what looks like a Mary Poppins hat and grin.
“Maggie, bring me Abby Harper’s costume,” Jackie shouts.
Maggie tries to shout something back but she has straight pins between her lips so it sounds like she’s humming. I think she said that she’s coming but there might have been a hummed curse word or two in there. I really wish she would take the pins out before she swallows them or something. I’m about to give her that advice but my jaw drops when she comes over to me with my costume. “Wha . . .” is all that will come out of my mouth when I blink at the mere slip of purple sparkles and fringe.
“Let’s try it on,” Jackie says, obviously not seeing my distress over my costume or lack thereof.
“I . . . I.” I swallow hard and finally manage, “Can’t wear that.”
“You can and will,” she says without batting an eye. “Come on, Abby, I’m busy.”
“No, really. I can’t wear that in front of my mama and the town. And mercy, the whole world.”
Jackie taps her foot. “You’re dancing the rumba, right?”
I nod.
“Then this is your costume.” She thrusts it into my hands.
“But can’t I be Mary Poppins?” Oh, wait, that’s been taken. “Oh, how about Snow White? Rio can be the dashing prince. Whaddya think?”
Jackie takes a deep breath and gives me a long stare that doesn’t seem to hold any sympathy whatsoever. “If you were dancing the waltz, then maybe. Abby, you’re dancing the rumba, the sexiest of all the dances. This fits the bill. Go and put it on. Now.”
I hold it up, thinking that maybe it’s more substantial that way but, holy cow, it’s cut out on the sides. Mama is going to have a fit.
“Abby, now!” Jackie says and I jump again. I would have glared at her this time, stress or not, but my eyes are too bugged out to narrow into a proper glare. Jackie shakes her head. “I don’t
know what you’re wigging out about. You’re going to look amazing in that costume. Your endless legs will stop traffic, Abby. Let’s face it, you and Rio already sizzle on the dance floor. You should own this dance. Now go put on the skimpy outfit and have fun with it. I know I would.”
I stand up, clutching the sparkly fabric to my chest. “So you think Rio will like it?”
“Seeing you in that costume is going to knock any guy for a loop, Abby. I’m sure that Rio won’t be an exception. So you’ve fallen for him, huh?”
“No!” I lie, but not very well.
She arches a knowing eyebrow. Why can everybody arch an eyebrow but me? “Can’t say as I blame you. That costume should catch his attention. You can thank me later.”
Oh. Now, this puts a whole new spin on things. I’m just going to have to suck it up and wear the darned thing. Once it’s on it might not be so bad . . . With that thought in mind I head over to the makeshift dressing room constructed from long red curtains hung from the ceiling on the other side of the room.
After slipping off my jeans and sweater I wiggle into the costume. It’s tight and clingy but not terribly uncomfortable, and stretchy so as to dance in. Carefully avoiding the mirror I raise my hands to clasp the jeweled collar behind my neck and then slowly turn around.
Wow. I look . . . wow . . . sexy? Me? The sparkly purple material covers my chest but bares my arms halter-top style. From there it covers my breasts but has two cutouts on the sides revealing a generous slice of my torso. There is a cute little skirt cut up higher on one side and filled with layers of gold fringe. With a smile I give my hips a little Cuban motion. Sweet. The fringe sways with my hip action and I can picture how amazing it will look sparkling and swishing beneath the spotlight on the dance floor. I gasp when I take a peek at the back . . . or of my bare back. The gold fringe starts low on my spine at the top curve of my butt. With my hand over my mouth I give my butt a little shake and then giggle.
“Abby, let’s see,” Jackie shouts.
Holy cow. “Okay. Just a minute.” Telling myself that there are bathing suits more revealing than this, I take a deep breath and then slowly come from behind the curtain. “What do you think?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but Rio’s standing there and my voice trails off as I gauge his face for a reaction. I just know my face is flaming.
Jackie turns to Rio. “What do you think?”
My heart pounds while his gaze takes me in from head to toe.
“Sexy enough for the rumba?” Jackie asks but then her cell phone rings. She puts a finger up and turns away from us to take the call, leaving me feeling a bit awkward with Rio fully clothed and me in my skimpy outfit. I stand there wishing I had the nerve to ask him how I look and wishing he would say amazing.
“You look amazing, Abby.”
Wait, did I just think that or did he just say it? “Really?”
“Didn’t I tell you never to say that to me again?”
“I don’t mind well.”
He chuckles. “That costume is going to make some eyes pop open.”
“My mama’s gonna have a cow.”
At the blank look on his face I’m about to explain but he holds up a hand. “No, wait, that means she is going to be upset, right?”
“You’re catchin’ on.”
He grins. “Yes, I am, aren’t I?” He runs his fingers through his loose hair that looks a bit damp as if he just showered. I lick my dry lips and he clears his throat.
“So, are you here to get fitted too?”
“Yes.” He leans against a table and folds his arms over his chest, looking like he’s about to tell me something, but then Jackie comes rushing back over to us.
“Rio, you need to hurry up and get dressed. Mitchell just called and wants you and Abby on the front page of the Web site. Looks like you two are the front-runners. He said that People magazine might be interested in doing a feature story too.”
Rio gives me a grin. “Looks like you’re no longer the underdog, Abby.”
My heart starts pounding. Wow.
“Maggie, get Rio’s costume!”
Maggie glares over the top of her glasses as she hems some pants. Muttering beneath her breath she tosses the pants down and scurries over to a long rack of costumes and grabs one. She’s as sweet as sugar to Rio, though. He has that effect on women except for one and I don’t want to think about her.
While Rio’s changing, Jackie and Maggie fuss over my costume and then in a moment of inspiration Jackie tucks a big purple silk flower behind my ear. She steps back to take a look while nibbling on her inner cheek.
“She needs hair extension so her hair can flow down her back,” Jackie finally says.
Peering at me over her funky reading glasses, Maggie nods in agreement. “I think we have something that will match her hair color.”
Pursing her lips Jackie says, “Her makeup needs to be bold this week. Red lipstick and fake eyelashes.”
They continue to discuss me like I’m a mannequin they’re dressing up for a window display until Rio comes out from behind the red curtain. We all turn and stare.
He’s wearing a black jumpsuit sort of thing belted at the waist with a high stiff collar in the same gold color as my fringe. Void of buttons, the shirt is open to his navel in a deep V, accented with shiny gold. The pants are tight and narrow but flair at the feet and have gold piping down the outside of each leg. His shoulder-length hair has dried in midnight waves and is tousled from tugging his turtleneck over his head.
“I look like Elvis,” he says and for the first time I notice that he’s scowling.
“But that’s a good thing, Rio.” My mama loves Elvis, as do most of the women in this town. We’ve been to Graceland three times and Mama bought a license plate, a key chain, a shot glass even though she doesn’t drink, and an ashtray even though she doesn’t smoke.
Rio shoots me a look to see if I’m kidding. He’s never quite sure. In my opinion Elvis never looked so good, especially in the fried peanut butter and banana years, although Mama will argue that the King ever consumed such a thing. She also harbors a hope that he is still alive and living in peace in a quaint village in France.
“I think you look hot,” Maggie gushes. “Don’t you, Jackie?”
Jackie nods while tapping her cheek. “Oh yeah. We need to slick his hair back . . .”
“Are you wishing we had gone with the pirate theme? Rio could totally pull off Jack Sparrow.”
“No way!” Jackie argues. “Rio is totally Will Turner.”
“Ladies, may I remind you that I specified that Abby and I would not dress as characters? I think it takes away from the dance. So your argument is . . . how shall we say? . . . moot. I’m wondering, then, how I ended up as Elvis.”
“You’re not Elvis, Rio. It’s just a sexy jumpsuit not so unlike other ones you’ve worn.”
“I like to stick to a shirt and pants and forgo the jumpsuit. Can we do that?”
They both shake their heads. “Too late.”
Rio sighs but is a good sport about his Elvis outfit. Personally I like it but decide not to voice my opinion. Plus, I might just like it because Rio is wearing it, so the pirate thing would have been pretty cool too.
“Okay, Mitchell has a limo waiting. Chop, chop.”
“Wait, we’re going into town now?” Rio asks.
Jackie nods. “Mitchell wants the pictures taken at the dance hall. I was told to tell you to bring a change of street clothes so you can dine in town and then head back to the dance hall for the dress rehearsal tonight.”
“But we’ll miss our rehearsal time this afternoon while taking pictures.”
Jackie shrugs. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Rio looks at her for a minute as if trying to translate her comment but then shrugs and turns to me. “Maybe we can get some extra time at the dance hall to practice.”
“Hey, your picture featured on the front of the Web site will get you votes, Rio,” Jackie points out. “So I would
be looking at this as a good thing. Hopefully the People spread will pan out for you too. This show is taking on a life of its own and you two are the sweethearts.”
Rio nods. “Point taken.” He turns to me. “I’ll meet you at the limo in ten minutes, okay?”
“Sure.” I’m acting all casual but I’m a bit stuck on being referred to as sweethearts.
“We’ll meet you there to do your makeup,” Jackie says and then calls for Travis to come for his fitting.
Wow, I think as I hurry to my room. A limo . . . a photo shoot, and a spread in People? What could possibly happen next?
19
Feeding Frenzy
There is just something so glamorous about a limo ride even in the light of day, and dressed in our costumes makes it more so even though we both have light coats on. Rio has on a black leather jacket and I wish I had something dressier than this raincoat but I didn’t have anything better. If I win this competition Mama, Jesse, and I are going to the mall for some fancy clothes!
The tinted glass and soothing jazz as we cruise down the winding mountain road feel calm and relaxing after the frenzy of activity in the past week. Rio and I are sitting close but not touching in the very back seat and I don’t think I’ve ever been so aware of a man in my life. I want to reach over and touch him, maybe just put a hand on his leg, so instead I lean my head against the cool, soft leather of the bench seat and close my eyes.
“Tired?” The low timbre of his voice is as soothing as the cool jazz.
“A little.” But as I sit here I suddenly realize that I’m more exhausted than I thought.
“You can lean your head against my shoulder and rest if you wish,” Rio offers. “Today is going to be a long one, so catch a short nap. I don’t mind.”
“Thanks. I think I will.” I can’t hold back a sigh when my cheek slides against the butter-soft texture of his sleeve. He smells like leather and a hint of spicy cologne . . . not overpowering, just so damned sexy and sort of, I don’t know . . . intriguing.
It feels so good snuggling against him like this that I fold my legs up onto the seat and smile just before closing my eyes. Since I want to savor leaning against him for the short ride into town I just pretend to sleep. But I don’t want him to know that I’m savoring. I do have my pride even though it’s so difficult to keep from tucking my arms through his.
Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues Page 18
