Which made her fight even harder to beat him.
It wasn’t long before Drew slammed his paddle down on the table and declared he’d had enough. “Damn. Got a cramp in my shoulder. Old wrestling injury. We’ll finish this some other time.”
A cramp in his shoulder? He couldn’t come up with something more creative than that? “Sure,” Casey said with a saucy grin. “Any time.”
He turned away. “Come on, Josh. Let’s grab a hot dog.”
“We just ate hot dogs.”
“Then it’s time for the Ferris Wheel.”
Josh bit his lower lip and glanced at Casey with a mischievous glint before hurrying after his father.
***
When Casey checked her voice mail she saw that a call had come in from her landlord about fifteen minutes ago. She could kick herself for missing it. Weekend or not, she’d left him a frantic phone message yesterday begging him to get back to her.
Hoping to reach him now, she made her way out of the playground. This would not be a conversation she wanted to share. Last thing she needed was for her students or their parents to hear her sounding all bent out of shape. She walked along the street beneath leafy sycamores and maples until the noise of the bazaar receded.
He picked up. Good. “Hello, Mr. Vonrelis. Thank you for getting back to me. I was very disturbed by your letter. You see, I’ve invested so much into—”
“You knew it was only a rental property.”
“But that’s why I wanted such a long lease. I’ve spent the last three years establishing a school here. Starting all over in a new—”
“Look, Miss Richardson, I’m retired. My wife and I want to move to Florida. I need to sell that property now. I already got a good offer, but if you can match it I’m willing to turn him down and sell to you instead. More than that I can’t do.”
“What’s your asking price?”
His answer nearly made her pass out, but Casey kept her voice steady and said, “All right. I do want to buy it. Please hold off with your other buyer until I have a chance to make some arrangements.”
“Don’t take too long.” And he hung up.
***
Drew relished sitting at the top of the Ferris Wheel when it paused. It gave him an odd sense of power looking down from this height on all those tiny people who didn’t know they were being observed.
Like Casey Richardson. He watched her rushing out of the bazaar to the street. He could hardly believe he’d just endured a beat down from a ballerina. A sexy sugar plum fairy with the eye of the tiger and a killer backhand.
A barely suppressed whimper on his left told Drew that Josh didn’t share his exhilaration for heights. It baffled him sometimes how he and his son could be so different. Was he a bad father because he didn’t know what to say at a time like this?
Drew played with a few possible comments in his head, but everything sounded so stupid and embarrassing that he remained silent. Unable to speak to his own flesh and blood. A piece of himself seated next to him that he’d watched enter this world nine years ago in the delivery room. Sure, some mistakes were made. But did it have to mean the two of them were destined to drift farther and farther apart?
The Ferris Wheel cycled down, and their turn to step off came. “Hear that, Josh? They’re announcing the raffle drawing. Should we go find out if we won a free DeCeccho’s pizza every week for a whole year?”
Josh just nodded. “Okay. Sure.”
How could the kid be so brazen on stage and so shy face-to-face? Throughout the afternoon people had stopped Josh to congratulate him on his performance. It only made the boy shrink and blush and stutter.
The awkward part for Drew was that he did not know any of these neighbors and friends except for a man who ran the ice cream parlor where they’d often grab a shake before heading to Drew’s turf in the Hamptons. He usually didn’t stick around the North Fork when he picked up his son for a weekend. This was Heather’s territory, and even though they’d been divorced for seven years, he still liked to keep their worlds separate. Except this place was also his son’s world. And today Drew noticed how much of it he was missing.
The same person he’d seen bopping around with Casey Richardson stood onstage at the mic. She had a cadre of little girls around her. The biggest girl held a glass bowl, and the others took turns plucking out folded pieces of paper with the names of people entered in the raffle. There were about twenty prizes, from a grand prize of a brand new laptop computer all the way down to a homemade pie from the local bakery.
The woman read each name, and excited winners accepted cheers. Unfortunately, Drew did not win the pizza or even the video games Josh would have liked. But he heard his name being called when they announced the prize of three free psychic readings by someone named Madame Lumina.
“That’s you, Dad. You won.”
Psychic readings? Couldn’t he at least have won the complimentary games at the bowling alley? This wasn’t the kind of prize he could give to Josh. And he sure as hell didn’t want it for himself. But Drew forced a smile, raised his arm, and the woman passed him an envelope with a certificate inside.
After every prizewinner was announced, the exuberant tide of people that had rolled its way up to the front of the stage began to recede, the bazaar winding down.
The older woman he’d seen earlier wearing the big Kentucky Derby hat passed by Drew. “Excited about your free readings?”
He smiled, but said, “Not especially. I’d rather not know my future.”
A redheaded matron broke into the conversation. “Don’t worry. She’s not very good.”
Ms. Derby Hat frowned. “I heard she’s excellent. Monica Bickles told me she swears by Madame Lumina.”
The redheaded lady tossed Drew an exuberant grin. “Good, bad, who cares? Either way, it’s all in fun.”
“Maybe for some, but not for me.” Drew held out the envelope. “Why don’t you take this? I’m just not interested in listening to some loony tell me about my life.”
He knew he shouldn’t let his crankiness show to these ladies, but Drew couldn’t hold back. After Josh’s triumphant performance the boy would no doubt expect his father to change his mind and let him return to the dance classes. And maybe he was right. But that would mean admitting defeat in front of Casey Richardson. Again.
If only he’d kept his mind on his game instead of visualizing her playing ping-pong in the nude, he might have fared better. Or maybe not. Her coordination was amazing. And watching the speed and grace of her movement was mesmerizing. Which only made him want her more.
Ms. Derby Hat interrupted his thoughts patting his hand with a motherly smile. “You look so stressed. You could probably use some advice from Madame Lumina.”
Chapter 3
That night Casey played a CD of Miles Davis to calm her nerves, but she put on some fresh coffee to help her think. She chewed her fingers as she wandered back and forth through the three rooms above the dance studio she’d turned into a home for herself. The green and blue striped curtains she sewed from a remnant, the rocking chair she lugged from the thrift store, the shelf she put up to hold the unicorns she’d been collecting since forever. Some were delicate glass, some tacky plastic. Ceramic, wood, pewter, even a stuffed one.
She stopped and brushed her hand along her favorite. A frosted crystal blue unicorn with a fairy riding on it. A gift from her dad for her fifteenth birthday, only a year before he died. Parker had probably picked it up for him, because Dad was bedridden by then.
Casey could still hear her father saying, “Listen to the dreams in your heart.” He’d never made much money as a gardener, but he loved his work. And he was always there to defend Casey when her mother scolded her for chasing rainbows.
When the gurgling coffeemaker stopped, she poured herself a big mug and sat at her kitchen table. Casey could hardly believe she told her landlord she wanted to buy this building. Sure, telling him that might give her a little more time, but for what? There was
no way she could ever come up with the seventy or eighty thousand she’d need for a down payment on a mortgage. Not that a bank would give her a mortgage anyway. She had no assets. And after three years the school was just breaking even.
But if she bit the bullet and left here she’d still need start-up money. Including a deposit on a new rental. One that wasn’t so far away she’d lose her current students. And finding a suitable place would not be easy. Last time she’d searched the North Fork for about a year looking at barns set too far back on farms and storefronts in strip malls too narrow for dancing and too creepy for her to live in even if the zoning allowed it.
She sipped her coffee, rummaging through her options when the phone rang. “Hi, Mom.”
“Parker said you’re being kicked out of your building. I told you not to spend your savings on such a flimsy idea. All that money wasted.”
The one person she could always count on to put her down. Why had she answered? Casey leaned her cheek against her hand, her whole body sinking. “I’m working out some possibilities.” Who knew what that meant? But she thought it sounded businesslike.
“There’s a new restaurant looking for waitresses.”
“But I don’t want to give this up.”
“You can’t always choose, Casey. No one knows that better than I do.”
“I understand that, Mom.”
And she did understand how hard it had been on Lauren Richardson when her husband died, leaving her with three kids—nine, fifteen, and seventeen years old—to provide for. But it hadn’t been easy on Casey either. Her youth ended early when her mom went from one poorly paying job to the next, never holding any for long because she drank herself into oblivion every chance she got.
Her brother had tried his best to move into their father’s role, but there was only so much a teen could do. Casey had taken on more and more responsibilities, nursing her sick father until his death, caring for her younger sister, as well as managing the household and taking part-time jobs to help make ends meet. High school became something she squeezed in between all her duties.
But when the vineyards brought tourist trade to the North Fork, and Parker started turning their mother’s farmhouse into a profitable Bed and Breakfast—and convinced her to get help for her drinking problem—life brightened. Things seemed possible. The new sense of optimism gave Casey the impetus go for something she wanted. She’d started taking college courses in Riverhead. And dance classes—ballet, modern, jazz—in professional studios in New York City. Saved her waitress earnings and finally rented a room in a dingy apartment with three other dancers on Avenue B in Manhattan.
Kind of late at nineteen, but she’d had a taste of dance and some training from a woman named Amanda, a former Broadway dancer who’d run a vintage clothing shop where Casey worked during high school. Amanda told Casey she had talent and used to give her lessons in the shop after hours. She fell in love fast with the beauty, discipline and athleticism of dance.
But those days were over for Casey. She had looked long and hard trying to find something to replace her dream of dancing professionally. And with her dance academy and all her wonderful students, Casey had thought she finally found it.
She heaved long sigh, which of course her mom heard.
“You know, Casey, if you’d accepted Trevor Barton’s proposal all this trouble wouldn’t be happening. He might ask again if you encouraged him a bit.”
“I’m not ready to get married,” Casey said, her teeth clenched. “And this ‘trouble’ is about something that’s important to me.”
Her mother’s tone sharpened. “Is there anything so wrong with settling down and raising a family?”
“Of course not. But I’m still not sure if he’s the one.” She took a swig of her coffee, swallowing down the truth. Casey knew darn well Trevor was not the one for her.
“Well, it’s been almost a year. Don’t let it go too long or he’ll up and marry another girl and you’ll be sorry.”
“If that happens it just means we weren’t right for each other.”
“Whatever you say, Casey. Go ahead and make another mess of things.”
***
That same night Drew Byrne pulled his metallic blue Porsche Panamera into the 7-Eleven to pick up a coffee before heading back to Southampton in the South Fork. After paying for his brew, he sat in his car in front of the store. Drew rested his coffee in the cup holder and lit up a fragrant Montecristo cigar. He puffed a soft cloud of smoke out the window trying to clear his head over the little debate he’d just had with his ex-wife. Actually it wasn’t so much Heather this time, it was Josh. Not that his ex didn’t have a way of pissing him off every time they spoke.
Married in their early twenties, they’d had much to learn about life and each other. Apart from the lusty physical attraction that brought Heather and him together, there was the money. Drew had always taken his comfortable surroundings for granted, having been well off growing up. But it soon became clear that his resources were the bulk of his appeal to his young wife. After two years they both recognized they didn’t really love each other and that their marriage was a mistake. And the birth of his son only seemed to give them more to fight over. The divorce got messy, with Heather pushing for every dollar she could squeeze from him. A raw lesson in life marking the beginning of Drew’s suspicious attitude toward women who wanted to get close to him.
Earlier tonight when he dropped his son back at the house where the boy lived with Heather and her second husband, he’d barely stepped in the front door before Josh opened his mouth about the incident at the dance studio. Usually Josh sat stone-faced or left the room while Drew and Heather discussed schedules and plans regarding their child. He was a quiet kid who clearly didn’t like witnessing the tense exchanges between his two parents.
So Drew was blown away when Josh erupted in a flurry of anger over losing his dance classes. Heather went livid.
And Drew once again found himself on the defensive saying, “I’m going to take him to my gym instead. Put him on a real muscle-building program. No more of this ballerina stuff.”
“Did you know Edward Villella was once a boxer?”
“Who’s he?”
“Of course. I forgot. All you follow is the NFL and MMA. Villella was a famous male ballet dancer from New York City Ballet.”
“Yeah, well …”
“Baryshnikov is no sissy either. Ask Jessica Lange. And Natalie Portman obviously found Benjamin Millepied’s athleticism appealing.”
“That’s just it. Josh has real talent as an athlete. And I can’t see him reaching his potential with some rinky-dink ballerina like Casey Richardson.”
“Then how come she beat you at the ping-pong match?” This low blow came from his own son. And of course brought a barely concealed grin from Heather.
Heather sent Josh out of the room and lowered her voice. “Look, I know this dance academy is merely a local, downhome place. But Casey does have a way of opening up shy kids like Josh. She brought something out in him that I’ve had a hard time reaching. Don’t worry, though. I already have plans to send Josh to a more professional school that’s attached to an internationally famous dance company.”
“Dance? You’ve already got him on piano lessons and art classes. He should be playing ball. When I was his age—”
“Your father had you under his macho iron thumb. Pardon me for treading on sacred ground, but your father customized your world and drove you hard to excel in manly games and manly business. And now you’re acting just like him.”
What Heather seemed to forget was that he also excelled at negotiating. And by the time he left, she agreed to let him have two weeks to try a fitness program with Josh instead of the dance classes.
Now, grumbling to himself, Drew took one more swig of coffee and hit the ignition. The lights of his Porsche broke across the wall of the 7-Eleven, highlighting a collage of posters. The one directly in front of him caught his eye. He squinted at the bold black p
rint against the bright yellow background.
Was there no escape from Casey Richardson? He got out of his car and marched over to the poster for a closer look.
FAMILY FITNESS BOOT CAMP
It’s summer again! And for the third year in a row the
North Cove Civic Association is offering a high energy and
fun program for parents and their kids to work out together in a safe,
but intensive system under the supervision of two expert trainers.
Trevor Barton
North Cove High Phys. Ed. Instructor and Football coach
Casey Richardson
Dancer and Director of North Cove Dance Academy
Location: North Cove High School gymnasium
7 to 8:30 PM. Tuesdays and Thursdays, July 6th to August 17th
Active wear required. Come ready to sweat!
Drew ripped the poster from the wall, tossed it onto the passenger seat of his Porsche, and sped off.
Chapter 4
On Monday morning Casey drove her ancient-but-still-kicking Honda Civic down Cove Street, one of the two main streets that made up the downtown area of North Cove. She found a parking space and ran through the rain to a bright blue door between latticed bay windows. Natalie’s Coffee Cove.
Clinking dishes punctuated a low-keyed buzz of neighbors chatting at shiny white tables amid the rich scent of fresh java. Photographs of Phil, Natalie’s beloved West Highland Terrier, lined the walls. Today classes at the studio did not begin until the afternoon. Casey had scheduled an early appointment at the bank to at least get information about buying Vonrelis’s building. Not that she actually thought it was possible. But this morning Natalie called and insisted she come over for breakfast beforehand.
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