Hitting That Sweet Spot

by Lara Ward Cosio

  “I don’t really know you, but I can tell you’re upset about it all,” Jessica continued.

  Shay realized he had been staring past her, being, once again a piss-poor date. He took a deep breath and decided to admit to things. “Yeah, I am. Gavin’s my best friend. He’s hurting.”

  “Why are you still in New York?”

  “I’ve got work to deal with.”

  She nodded and took a sip of her wine.

  “And I had a date with a beautiful girl. This wasn’t something I wanted to miss.”

  “Oh, Shay . . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re getting better at that flirting thing.”

  ~

  After finding their comfort level with each other, they barely noticed as the restaurant, late in the night, closed around them. They had fallen into easy conversation, keeping things light, including when Jessica teased Shay over not knowing Rogue’s music very well.

  “I mean, of course I know ‘You’re My One.’ Everyone knows that song,” she said, referring to the band’s biggest hit. “But the music that really moves me is old school funk and soul. The rhythms! You can’t not dance when you hear James Brown or P-Funk, right?”

  “Sure, you’re right,” Shay conceded. “But there’s a sacrifice of melody and chord progression, isn’t there?” He was teasing her right back, enjoying her shock at his use of the word “sacrifice.”

  “Oh, believe me, nothing is missing,” she said reverently.

  “Is there no chance I’ll make you into a Rogue fan?”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t try.”

  “Grand. We’ll have a listening party, shall we?”

  She watched him for a moment, the smile on her face lingering. Shay wanted to lean across the table and kiss her. But he stayed still, enjoying the heat of attraction between them instead.

  “Maybe so.”

  “I’m just sorry I need to go home for a short while. I’d have liked very much to take you out again tomorrow.”

  “Really?”

  “What do you mean, really? Of course. You’re gorgeous and brilliant fun.”

  He watched her fidget, looking down at her hands as she folded her cloth napkin. Did she really think he was still playing some game, looking for a quick lay?

  “It’s just, you’re—”

  Shay straightened up and leaned forward. “What? What do you think I am, Jess?”

  “Like I said before, you’re famous. You’re in an amazing band—”

  “It’s amazing now, is it?” He smiled with satisfaction.

  “I’m saying, you and I are total opposites. You’re probably a millionaire, right? And I have three roommates and eat ramen most nights. You’ve been around the world and I’m just trying to get a college degree. You don’t really live in New York. I do. And you could probably have any girl you want.”

  “I won’t argue with you over the fact that we have some differences. I’ll only ask you why any of this should stop us seeing if there’s anything between us? Because, I am interested in something real in case you thought I was after some quick fling.”

  She considered him for a long moment, and he could see her struggling with what to make of him. Finally, she said, “Tell me something about yourself. Something I couldn’t find out on the internet.”

  This was her way of testing whether he would really invest in her, in them. He had been too quick earlier in complimenting her. She wasn’t just pretty and fun. She was clever beyond her years. Her request deserved his honesty, so he gave it to her.

  “I grew up on my own,” he said. “Or really, I should say that my older brother took care of me. Our parents were uninterested, and therefore, incapable of taking care of us. They lived in their own world, oblivious to what us kids needed. There was no warmth, little acknowledgement at all. My brother, he’s five years older than me, he made sure I was bathed and fed and did my schoolwork. He talked to teachers on my behalf and showed me kindness. That is, until I was about thirteen. That’s when he became a heroin addict. I could have been just like him. Had the chance to go down that road, in fact. I was going to go with him to a party to see what all the fuss was about. But then Gavin came round and he took me joy riding instead. He literally saved my life.” He paused, thinking as he often did, of how fortunate he had been. Fortunate to have a friend like Gavin who had somehow known to intervene that night. “And my brother, he’s been in and out—mostly out—of my life since the day I didn’t go with him to that party.” This was not something he shared with others, especially not with the women he dated. He already knew he projected something that made women want to look after him, but he wasn’t interested in stoking that response. He didn’t need to be saved or coddled. His childhood hadn’t been ideal, but he’d never once pitied himself and didn’t want anyone else’s pity.

  “Thank you for telling me all that, Shay,” Jessica said.

  He nodded and braced for follow-up questions, for her to show sympathy and attempt to soothe his damaged edges. Instead, they shared comfortable silence as she watched him. Her eyes were an intensely dark shade of brown, and when she trained them on him he felt the warmth of her attention. And that was more rewarding than anything she could have said. It was a relief to find she didn’t want to try to be his savior, to fix him.

  “What will you tell me in return?” he asked.

  “Hmm . . . how about I tell you on our next date.”

  Shay smiled and relaxed. It felt good to just sit with her. “Brilliant plan.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A phone call from Danny Boy showed up on the center console screen of the Porsche. Shay reluctantly left his memories and stared at his brother’s name. He wouldn’t answer. Just as he hadn’t answered the thirty-four other calls from Danny Boy since the night before. There were nine voicemails that he hadn’t listened to. He didn’t need to. He knew what Danny Boy’s messages would say. None would include an apology. All would contain some variation of trying to manipulate the situation into something less than the fuckup that it was.

  Once the ringing stopped, Shay relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. He had unconsciously tightened his hands around it when thinking of Danny Boy. Shay had always been lenient with his brother, had always given him unlimited chances. But last night, he had wanted to wring his neck. Danny Boy’s actions were not just wrong but meant Shay had to be the one to atone for them. The thought of having to fix things sent him tense again.

  Rather than dwell on this unpleasant task, he retreated once more to the past, revisiting in his mind the morning after his first dinner date with Jessica.

  He had gone to her building at half past eight in the morning and stood outside, phoning her with the hope that he wouldn’t wake her. To his surprise, before the second ring sounded he saw her push open the front lobby door and head his way.

  She stopped short when she saw him.

  He held up his hands apologetically, the phone still in his hand. “Stalker, I know.”

  “What are you—”

  “I just wanted to see you again before I went home. Looks like bad timing on my part.” He gestured to her. Her hair was pulled up into a smooth bun and she wore a pale pink leotard under black leggings and a short black wrap skirt. She carried a bag on her shoulder.

  “Oh,” she said.

  Fuck. He had thrown her again. Just when he thought he’d gotten past his missteps with her. “I can see you’ve got plans. I’ll call you from Dublin, will I?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded.

  “Okay, I got it. Have a great day, then, won’t you?” Cursing himself, he turned away and looked for a cab.

  “Shay, wait.”

  Turning back, he saw a smile at the corner of her mouth.

  “Want to walk me to my dance class?”

  “I’d love it,” he said and took her hand.

  She told him they were headed to the Broadway Dance Center, which was only five and a half blocks away. That
meant he didn’t have a lot of time with her, but he would take what he could get.

  “It’s a ballet class, is it?” he asked.

  “Yes, I planned on starting with ballet, then doing a hip hop class a little later.”

  “That’ll be all your free time before work, won’t it?”

  “Pretty much. But it’s where I want to be.”

  Shay nodded and they walked in silence for a few minutes. “Can I ask why you don’t call yourself a dancer like your roommates if this is what you love?”

  “Because I’m a graphic art student and waitress. I’m not out there hustling auditions or in a program anymore. I love dance but I can’t claim that’s what I am now.”

  “What made you stop?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You do. Of course you do.”

  She pulled her hand from his. “Okay. What I mean is, I don’t want to get into it.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  The silence returned as they walked. Shay wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, though it was clear the subject of dance was closed.

  “I’ll work on some playlists for our listening party when I’m home,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

  She only nodded and he could see her mind was elsewhere. All too quickly, they came upon the dance studio and Shay regretted their time was at an end.

  “Well, I—”

  “Since we both know your stalker tendencies mean you’ll try to watch me anyway, why don’t you come in? If you have time, you can stay for the ballet class.”

  Shay was so surprised that he only nodded for fear that she might change her mind. He blindly followed her into the building and past the check-in desk, moving down the red painted hallway and through dozens of other people there for various classes, until she stopped him at the door of a studio. She pointed to the window they had passed and then promptly left him to go inside.

  Through the window he could see nine young women in ballet garb similar to Jessica’s. The room had pale wood flooring and large windows overlooking the busy city below. One wall was covered in mirrors. After a few minutes, the women had lined up along free standing barres and began following the instructor’s commands. Shay couldn’t hear the music they were moving to, but he imagined it was a piano-based classical selection. Jessica stood out to him, not just because she was who he wanted to see, but because of her skin color. The other women were all white.

  As the class progressed, Shay watched with growing interest. There was activity behind him as a steady stream of people made their way to different classes, but he tuned them out. Jessica’s movements were elegant just as ballet should be. But there was something else beneath it. There was aching passion in the way her body flowed. He was drawn to the pain he saw in it. It was pain borne out of a love for dance so deep that it was almost hard to watch. There was no doubt in his mind that dancing fed her soul.

  While he couldn’t claim to be an expert on her level of skill, he could see that she had an uncommon ability, especially in comparison with her classmates. The instructor also treated her differently, almost reverently, using her frequently as an example to the others. An hour had passed as he stood watching her through the window when she finally met his eyes. Those dark eyes that had already shown him warmth and tenderness now conveyed her ultimate sadness. But he didn’t understand. Why had someone this good given up?

  At the end of the class, Jessica lingered inside the studio, taking off her pointe shoes and wraparound skirt. When the other women and the teacher had left, Shay went inside.

  “You’re magnificent,” he told her.

  She was sitting on the floor and had beads of sweat on her forehead. When she didn’t reply, he sat down with her.

  “Truly, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful, Jess. You dance with such emotion.”

  “I do love it,” she said.

  “I can tell.”

  “That’s why it’s so heartbreaking.” She looked down, turning her chin into her shoulder.

  “What is?”

  “That I’m just not good enough.”

  “Oh, that’s rubbish—”

  She looked at him quickly. “Stop. I’ve spent most of my life dancing. I know this world. I know that when I’m told by renowned teachers that I won’t ever be a soloist or a principal because my body type is wrong and my skills just aren’t there, that it’s true. It is the biggest disappointment of my life, but I’ve accepted that as good as I am, it’s not enough.” She shook her head and looked away from him again. “We don’t all get to be the best at what we love or be loved for what we do. In that way, you really are lucky.”

  Jesus. What do you say to that? This was the thing she planned to tell him in return for his story about himself. It was a tremendous show of trust in him and he was overwhelmed.

  “Jess,” he said and waited for her to look at him. “Thank you for letting me see how beautiful and free and amazing you are when you dance. It was the most magical thing to witness.”

  “Well, you’re welcome,” she said with a small smile.

  “And if I’m being honest, I have to say, you were by far and away the best of the bunch out there. I mean, Jesus, were they even in the right class?”

  She laughed and he got lost in those dimples.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Dalkey farmers market on the outskirts of Dublin was teeming with life on this sunny Sunday afternoon. Multi-colored stalls lined the old tram yard off Castle Street, offering organic vegetables and meats, fresh breads, honey, olives, coffee, and even Lebanese, German, and Italian foods.

  The good summer weather was a much needed boost for Sophie McManus, as she was currently wandering among the vendors with an aching back and a nine-months’ swollen pregnant belly. She hadn’t allowed herself to complain out loud during the course of this pregnancy. Not after having suffered a miscarriage the last time around. But inwardly, she admitted to all the discomforts she’d felt along the way, and especially during these last weeks. The sciatica pain radiating down her lower back and along the back of her thigh was the worst. Her doctor had rather unhelpfully told her it would disappear as soon as she gave birth since the baby would no longer be pressing on that nerve. She would welcome an end to that, but more than anything, she was eager to give birth and meet this baby. She and her husband had chosen to let the sex be a surprise, adding to the anticipation they felt.

  Walking was supposed to be good at this stage, and might even help induce labor. Sophie had purposely arrived twenty minutes early to the market so that she could add in more exercise. She would meet her friend Felicity soon enough. For now, she moved among the vendors, inspecting their offerings and acknowledging their well wishes and unsolicited advice.

  A street musician a few yards off was playing something of his own creation on an acoustic guitar and engaging in a running commentary on the people he saw milling around him. The ploy worked to get him a tip about half the time. When the guitar notes changed to something Sophie recognized, she knew she was now the object of his focus. She feigned interest in a display of organic raspberry preserves, hoping the busker would grow weary of trying to get her attention. But soon, she could feel eyes on her as others in the market recognized the song as being by Rogue, her husband’s band. How could they not? It had become an enormous success, rivaling the popularity of the band’s biggest song ever, “You’re My One.” Because she knew she had been a part of making the new song a sensation, she slowly turned and edged closer to the crowd now surrounding the guitarist.

  Just as she got to the front, the musician sang the main chorus:

  Some people say it’s meant to be

  Yeah they don’t look back and see

  The regret and shame I do

  We can’t start over, but we can start again

  And darling, oh darling, ain’t that something

  The song, “Start Again,” had been Gavin’s Christmas present to her. It was written as part apology, part love song. Th
ey had reconciled after almost a year of separation and during their time apart, Gavin had exorcised his anger at her in the band’s latest album, Ache & Swell. That album had been a huge hit, but once the driving force of emotion for it had evaporated, he was inspired to gift her with something sweeter.

  In the early days of the new year, Gavin had dragged his bandmates into the studio to record the song, wanting to make it something Sophie could play at will. It was the most “pop” the band had ever sounded, as there was a lightness to the overall tone that came with layered acoustic and electric guitars and a bouncy rhythm section. Gavin’s voice was full of joy as he sang with a smile, belying the heaviness of the lyrics. He even paraphrased noted Irish poet Seamus Heaney, singing, “We’ll do like Heaney said/We’ll walk on air/Ignore better judgement.”

  Gavin had brought the recording home for Sophie and she kept it on near constant repeat. When she spied him lip-syncing along to the song one morning, she stealthily recorded him with her phone until he realized what she was doing. From there they tried to “catch” each other in such moments until the game devolved into blatant playing to the camera. After ten days of this, they had accumulated so many snippets of video that Gavin decided to piece it all together for their amusement. The end result was an intimate look at their relationship and life, showing them in casual, playful moments at their impressive Dalkey home overlooking the sea.

  The video began in silence, focused on Sophie in bed as she slept. After several seconds, the brisk strumming of guitar became the soundtrack as she woke and stretched, her Rogue tee shirt pulling away from the bare skin of her four months’ pregnant belly bump. She fell effortlessly into singing, a sultry, sleepy look on her face as she performed for Gavin’s benefit. The video segued into a clip Sophie had taken from above as Gavin knelt before her, serenading the baby in her belly. Another shot showed Gavin on the deck overlooking the sea, singing dramatically as Sophie moved around him in a circle, before he fell into a wide smile and laughter. He had also caught her in the kitchen, wearing a short robe and a towel wrapped around her wet hair while making breakfast. She had been mouthing a few of the lyrics but when she saw him watching her, she camped it up, using a spatula as a microphone. The part that gave fans the biggest thrill was when Sophie snuck up on Gavin while he was in the shower. The glass door was steamy, so she pulled it open to reveal her husband, naked and wet with trails of soapy water running over his muscular chest. These scenes spliced together made for an addicting video.