by Tonya Plank
“Oh, Kendra can drive me home. She came with me.” I smiled. It felt good to have my voice back, if just momentarily.
He slowly grinned. “Oh, that’s nice of her to come.”
“We were all worried, Jett.” My voice started to crack. I cleared my throat and breathed deeply. “We both need rest. Let’s make a pact to see each other bright and early tomorrow morning.” I kissed his head.
“Okay,” he groaned.
I was walking toward Kendra in the lobby when the woman who had been in the room with him—apparently his sister—stopped me.
“Could I please have a word with you?” she said. She was tall, and her gaze was directed down at me. She had a short, dark, asymmetrical bob that swung when she talked. She was like a tall Liza Minelli. But not as sweet and charismatic as the actress. Her thin lips were tightly pursed and her gaze was hardening.
“Excuse me? Who are you?” Kendra said.
“It’s okay,” I said to Kendra. “Sure.”
“Great. In, ah, private?” The woman eyed Kendra, clearly distrusting her.
I nodded.
“Let me know if you need anything. I’m right over here,” Kendra said. I smiled at her. Sweet wasn’t exactly the right word to describe Kendra, but she was a true friend—always there for you.
The woman pulled me over to the quietest corner in the busy room. “I’m Francesca Ridley, Jett’s sister.” Her tone made it sound like I should bow to her, like she’d just introduced herself as royalty. Her downward gaze was not just because she was taller; she didn’t like me. It was obvious. I wondered how she could dislike me so, without even knowing me.
“I’m Arabelle.”
“Arabelle? Hmm, Jett hasn’t said anything about you? Is that your real name?” She snickered at the end and I thought, This is hardly a time to joke around.
“Yes,” I said bluntly, getting annoyed. Jett hadn’t said anything about me to her, likely because he rarely talked to her, seeing as how I didn’t know he even had siblings. But I didn’t say that. He was injured and this was hardly a time for his supporters to be picking fights with each other. But apparently, she didn’t feel the same way.
“Well, Arabelle.” She fluttered her hand about as if she’d called me Tinkerbell. I internally rolled my eyes, wanting this to be over with. “You’re Jett’s dance partner, I assume?” I had to think about it for a moment. I knew I couldn’t go on like this, with him in this risky career, very possibly getting hurt again. So no, I wouldn’t be. Not any longer.
But before I’d had a chance to say anything, she continued. “I’m just wondering what went through your mind as you saw him falling?” Her voice was rising, turning accusatory. “Did you think ‘But for the grace of God, there go I?’ Did it make you scared at all that the same could happen to you? Are you people so unconcerned about your safety that you’ll just do insane stunts like this without thinking?”
“Arabelle?” Kendra asked, off in the distance.
“Oh, oh no, I’m not ...” Suddenly I couldn’t remember the names of his work partners. “I, I don’t work with him at Beauty in Motion.”
“What? Well, where do you work with him then? Who are you?”
“Excuse me, I don’t like the way you’re speaking to my friend,” Kendra boomed, walking up. “Your attitude is very derogatory.”
“I teach at a ballroom studio called Infectious Rhythm. I’m just Jett’s friend,” I said.
The woman shook her head, apparently confused. “What does he have to do with a ballroom studio?” The edges of her mouth curled down, making her look literally like she may puke. “Are you co-teachers? Are you dating?”
“I don’t know that it’s any of your business. Jett obviously kept you out of his life for a reason, lady,” Kendra said.
The woman literally took a step back at this. After she caught her breath, she unfortunately resumed speaking, rather loudly. “Listen, Jett almost died today. We’re told that one inch over and he wouldn’t have hit that mat. As it is, his foot is shattered. He may never dance again.”
This was news to me. He’d told me it was only broken. My heart completely stopped beating for a moment. Did this mean his dance career was over? Not that I was happy with him doing daredevil stunts—but it was his life, his passion.
“We’ve been trying for ages to get him out of this ridiculous line of business and get him into the real estate business. That’s the family business, and we do quite well, thank you very much. But it wasn’t flashy enough for him. He needed to be in Las Vegas, hooking up with a different girl every five seconds.”
Was that him? I thought back to when we’d first met. Yes, that was very much him. Or it had been. It didn’t seem to be him here in L.A. though.
“Well, now I have a flashier career than he does. I’m on television, starring in a reality show about buying your dream home.” She smirked, as if I was him and she were competing with me. “He could have been me. He still can be. And I don’t have to risk my life for a living. Daddy’s pissed he won’t go into the family business. He’s threatened to cut off Jett’s trust fund. And he’s serious. Jett relies on his money but isn’t taking Daddy seriously at all. I tried to talk sense into him in his room here. He wouldn’t listen; he never does. Maybe you have more sense than he does, especially if you’re not stupid enough to work for Beauty in Motion.”
So, I’d found out where all Jett’s money came from. His father.
“He has a degree from Harvard, you know that?” Francesca continued. “And he’s using it on this.” She shook her head and laughed. “I don’t know if he’ll ever dance again. But I don’t know if he’ll want to come back and work for Daddy’s company either. He might do something ridiculous and teach ballroom or something just to spite us. But he can have it so much better. He can have all the flash he wants. Just look at him. He could get all the girls he wants just by being on TV. He’d be a celebrity. He’d be in heaven. But, seriously, he wants to kill himself on a stage?” By this point she wasn’t even looking at me. It was like she was talking to herself, or the air, but not to me.
But one thing was becoming clearer and clearer to me. Jett was a ladies man. He was a daredevil. These were his true essences. He wasn’t right for me and never would be. I was stifling him, trying to focus our routine on storylines, on poetry. Maybe that’s why whatever happened in the theater happened. He was tired from the night before, sure—partly my fault, of course. But perhaps I was turning him into something he was not, and he was internally rebelling against it by taking even more risks with Beauty in Motion than he otherwise would have.
“You know this isn’t the first time he’s hurt himself, right?” Francesca said.
What? My breath stopped. I shook my head.
“No, you don’t know him that well. Just as I thought.” She smirked again.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice shaking beyond control.
“What hasn’t?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Broken shoulder, broken arm, broken leg, torn rotator cuff, torn meniscus. Two concussions.” She looked up, as if searching her memory for any others. “He might as well be a stuntman for the movies. He’d make a hell of a lot more money, and be compensated for his continuous injuries.”
I felt sick all over again, felt the bile literally rising. He’d never told me about any of this. Of course, I’d never asked.
“He’s injured himself this way just dancing?” I asked.
She laughed a short, shrieking laugh. “Of course. How else did you think?”
I had to excuse myself; the bile was definitely on its way up. Okay, now I knew for sure. This was him, who he was, a stuntman by nature. I couldn’t control that. And I shouldn’t. Who is anyone to tell someone else what to do? But I couldn’t tolerate his stunts. I just couldn’t, no matter how engrained in his nature they were or how much he lived for them. Losing Willem was the most horrifying thing that had ever happened to me and that I ever could imagine. If Jett had injured himself so
many times before, it was only a matter of time. No, I couldn’t go through it again.
* * *
I got home to a letter in my mail box from the organizers of the Blackpool Dance Festival. It confirmed my registration as a showcase competitor with my new partner, Jett. I breathed hard. I had to withdraw. Shattered foot or not, we could no longer dance together. Our partnership was over.
Chapter 27
Jett
“Good news. Everything looks good with your brain scan,” the doctor said, his tone upbeat. “Your concussion was minor, and temporary. And your foot’s all set. So I see no reason why we can’t release you this afternoon.”
“Awesome!” I wanted to high five him. But he was too far away.
“But Jett, remember what I said. You need to take it easy. Absolutely no dancing and no walking on the foot without crutches, for minimum of six weeks. Then you come back and we’ll remove the cast, and re-assess—the key word being re-assess. So, you’re not necessarily home free after six weeks.”
I nodded, but I knew I healed quickly. I’d be back on the foot in less time than that. I had to be. The team competition was only weeks away and Blackpool loomed shortly after that. There was no way I could be out of commission for that long. And I wouldn’t be. As I said, I was a quick healer. I’d been here before. Not with the foot, but with a few other things. All minor, like this.
“Jett, I’m serious.” He seemed to read my thoughts.
“Anything you say. You’re the doctor.”
He shot me a dubious frown and left.
* * *
I was thrilled to relay the doc’s news to Arabelle when she showed up. My whole body warmed when I spied her radiant, angelic face peeking through my door window.
“Hey, gorgeous!” I reached out to her. “I’m getting out today!”
I could tell right away something wasn’t right. She smiled but her smile was way too fast and big to be anything but phony. There was definitely something going on in the back of that beautiful mind of hers.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I—I’m really happy you’re healing so quickly,” she said with a forced laugh.
“Yeah, of course. It was only a small break and a baby bump on the head.”
She frowned and shook her head.
“What?” I said.
“I just thought it was more. The break, I mean.”
“No, where’d you hear that? Did the doctor talk to you? It’s really not that bad, Belle. Doc says it will heal in no time.”
She looked out the window, continuing to shake her head.
“Seriously, who told you it was more serious?” I didn’t think the doctor would talk to her without my authorization, and the only thing the doc would have said that I hadn’t was about the six weeks’ recovery. Maybe because of Willem, Arabelle was simply prone to worry.
“Jett.” She glanced at me, took a breath, and looked out the window again.
“Seriously, Belle. This is really not a big deal.”
When she looked at me again, tears began to pool in her eyes.
“Babe, I’m okay. I am!” I reached out to her.
She shook her head. “You very easily could have died, Jett. And now your bone is shattered.”
“Shattered? It’s just a break. Who said anything about shattered?”
She shook her head. “Well, I must have heard wrong.”
“From who?”
She shook her head again. “That’s not important, Jett. What’s important is that you very well could have died. You’re not valuing your life. And I—I can’t take that. I can’t take it again.” Her voice cut off at the end and the tears began to flow. She put a hand—a very trembling hand—over her face and turned away from me.
“What do you mean? Of course I value my life.”
“Then how did this happen?”
“Belle, I’m a theater dancer. There are inherent risks. It’s very rare that anyone…”
She shook her head. “I’m a dancer too and I’ve never risked my life.”
“What do you mean? You risk your life whenever you do a crazy one-handed overhead lift, whenever you do a swan dive. Hell, you risk your life when to get on the plane to go to Blackpool every year.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Jett…” She locked her shaking hands in a clasp behind her back. Crap, it looked like the tremor was back, big time. “Maybe I am taking too big a risk with all those tricks in the routine. You know, maybe I am. Especially because of who I’m doing them with—someone who has no respect for his own life. So how can he have any respect for mine?”
I opened my mouth but couldn’t form the words because I was in shock. I would never let her fall. I’d take better care of her than myself. She knew that.
“I can’t do this, Jett. I just can’t. I have to go. I just have to—” And she was out the door, before I could even respond. I’d never had anyone accuse me of that before, of not taking care of the girl. I’d never ever let a girl down. Ever. I’ve saved a lot of women, before they took a spill by catching them. How could she not trust me?
And can’t do what? Have a relationship, or a partnership? Neither? I wanted badly to run after her, but there was no way I could.
I reached for my phone, called her. Left several messages. “What did you mean, you can’t do this? Belle, you owe me more than that, especially since I can’t run after you. Belle, please call me back and talk to me about this. We’ve gone too far to turn back now.”
But she didn’t return my calls.
Fortunately the injury was to my left foot, so I could still drive, although it wasn’t easy. The first place I went, before even going to my house, was Infectious Rhythm. Belinda had taken Ranger to her apartment so I didn’t need to worry about him right now. I had to get to Belle and work things out with her. But I couldn’t find her in the practice room or the teachers’ lounge.
So I went to talk to Alessia about continuing my teaching job. And that’s where I found Belle.
“Speak of the devil himself,” Alessia said as I gave Belle a weak, pleading smile. Of course it came as no surprise they were talking about me. “Jett, sit down.” Alessia extended a hand to the empty chair beside Belle. “So, what’s the prognosis? I have to say, you look a lot better than I was expecting by the sound of things.”
“Yeah, I’m taking some pain meds, but I feel fine, really.” I looked at Arabelle, who was avoiding my gaze. “Doctor says I can still teach, I just can’t dance for a few weeks, until it’s completely healed. But I’d definitely like to stay on to teach. Now that I’m out of commission for the theater, I have all the more time to help the team. And, by competition time, I should be able to dance.”
“The competition is in less than a month,” Arabelle said.
“I’m a quick healer, Arabelle. Besides, there are other competitions, future ones. And Blackpool is more than six weeks away. That one, I will really be ready for. But I may seriously be able to dance in the upcoming team comp. I heal very quickly. Always have, always will.”
Arabelle continued looking away but Alessia nodded at me.
“Well, you’re a good teacher and team coach and I will definitely keep you on in that capacity.”
“You got it!”
“But, Jett.” Alessia’s tone took an audible downward turn. “Arabelle has expressed to me that she doesn’t want to partner with you. She’d rather either do a solo dance both with the team and at Blackpool, or partner with someone else.” Alessia looked at me with raised eyebrows. She knew I was going to be pissed at this.
“Another partner? Who?”
“My question as well,” Alessia said, extending her arm to Arabelle, for commentary. “Drew?”
“I actually don’t know. I just said that without really thinking.” She looked at the floor. “I probably don’t want another partner. I just can’t partner with Jett anymore. Despite the fact that he’s injured and is currently out of commission, we just don’t see eye to eye about
things and…I just…no.”
“Belle, please. I would never let you fall. I would guard you way, way more carefully than I take care of myself. It’s how I’ve always been.”
“I’ve thought a lot about it, Jett. The Blackpool Dance Festival asked me if I’d like to do another solo this year. Not for competition, just for fun. And…and I think I’m going to say yes. And I’ll use the team to practice the solo, putting it in the middle where our solo was.”
“Are you serious?” I said. “This is a ballroom competition. Everyone else is dancing in pairs. It would look ridiculous if the lead danced by herself.”
Alessia nodded, but Belle couldn’t see her. She was still focused on the floor.
“Well, maybe not then. Maybe we’ll just have it all be students,” Belle said. “Maybe Judy and Paolo can be the leads. They’re the best. Or maybe Kendra and Josie. I don’t know.”
“But the competitors are having a pro teacher pair, right?” I said.
Alessia nodded.
“So we wouldn’t be very competitive without a pro couple.”
“I don’t want to do this.” Arabelle’s voice was rising, as was her arm. Her very trembling arm. “I don’t. I want you to respect the decision I’ve made, and not fight me on it.”
I exhaled deeply. She finally looked at me. Pain combined with exhaustion shone in her eyes. I reached over and rubbed her shoulder. I had to stop. For now. But I’d win her back. I would. I’d show her she needed to dance with me.
Chapter 28
Arabelle
To be honest, I expected more of a fight from him. I didn’t want to make the decision I did. But I felt it was the only one. The team would look stupid with a pro dancer doing a solo. And it would be hard to do a solo again at Blackpool. It was hell working myself up to it mentally last year. Plus, people were probably tired of my sadness. I remembered the mood in the room when I danced last year. I wanted Willem to live on in their memories as an exciting dancer who filled people with joy, not sorrow. It would be much better to dance with a new partner. But it wasn’t going to be Jett, and I wasn’t ready to train with anyone else.
