Hitting That Sweet Spot (Rogue Series Book 3)

by Lara Ward Cosio

  “I know it’s not the most . . . cosmopolitan city, Jess. But you won’t be trapped here. You can get to all parts of Europe so quickly. And even back to New York isn’t bad, is it? And besides, your presence would do a lot to enrich the culture around here.”

  “I’d say that’s optimistic. Did you see the way some of those people in the restaurant were looking at me? I grew up in San Francisco and lived in New York after that. I’ve never experienced being looked at like I was an oddity.”

  “Ah, it’s just because you were with me, love. People know me in this city. They don’t know me to be with a woman, though.”

  “You’re trying to be kind, right? Because I don’t want you to deny that I might face racism here.”

  He took a deep breath. “No, I’m not trying to deny that, Jess. It’s just it’s so far out of my comprehension that I guess it’s hard for me to acknowledge. But that doesn’t help matters, does it?”

  “I don’t want to pretend it isn’t there. That’s all I’m saying. I can deal with it, but I need you to see what I see.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Okay.” She nodded to herself. “So, this is it?” she asked, looking out at his brick two-story house.

  “It is. And I’ve got something to show you.”

  “A surprise?” she asked, excitement suddenly shining in her eyes.

  “It is. Something especially for you.”

  She smiled and he led her into the house. He gave her a brief tour before taking her upstairs. When he opened the door to the space he had made into a dance studio she responded by covering her gaping mouth with both hands. After a moment, she walked inside and trailed her hand along the barre.

  “Will it do?” he asked.

  She was facing the wall of mirrors and looked at him in the reflection, a smile at the corners of her mouth.

  “I wanted you to know you’d have this,” he told her. “That it would be yours to call your own.”

  Raising her leg onto the barre, she drew her arms over her head. The turn of her wrists, fingers, and hands was exquisite. She gracefully waved her arms in sync to a music movement only she could hear. Lowering her leg, she stood in first position and examined herself in the mirror.

  Shay watched her as she went through the next four positions. She wasn’t just doing ballet, she was also processing this. He could see her mind at work but he wasn’t sure whether he had overstepped by creating this room for her. Their relationship had begun with her doubting it would ever go anywhere given how different they were. She had assumed his intentions were superficial and was wary of becoming a rock star’s casualty. Then when he’d convinced her she really was someone he wanted, she’d thrown herself into the relationship wholeheartedly, only to be let down in Morocco. Now he was coming on heavy again, and he could see she was nervous about where the next disappointment might come from. There was no use in trying to promise that would never happen. He couldn’t predict exactly where things would take them, but he had made himself clear. He loved her and wanted her with him. He’d have to let her wage her own internal argument over whether she would give them a chance.

  Finally, she turned her focus back to him, first by looking at him in the mirror, then when she turned to face him. She went to him and took his hand, rubbing her fingers over the callouses.

  “It’s perfect. Just as it is,” she told him, and he didn’t try to hide his relief.

  ~

  The next day, Shay took Jessica to Rogue’s offices and introduced her to every one of the dozens of staff. They spent two hours with the communications lead, talking through the strategy of the band’s social media platforms, including the ways it was lacking. Jessica offered a good balance of listening and asking pointed questions. Shay was happy to see her so engaged and eager to get into the details of things, though the visit was unofficial and no specific job was discussed.

  When Jessica’s family came in, Shay forced himself to lose all social anxiety and be the kind of gracious host they not only deserved but that would endear him to them. At the same time, he played up his wealthy rock star side, starting first with a welcome dinner in a private room at the Michelin-star-rated restaurant Chapter One. They were impressed, and he was happy to find them just as warm and open as the first time they met, starting off their time together well.

  On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, Shay ushered the group to the airport for a surprise chartered private plane flight to London.

  "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen," Davis said as he folded his arms behind his head and stretched out in the leather seat of the mid-size Learjet 60. "Tell me this is the way you do it up everywhere you go, Shay."

  The plane had just enough room for their small group. It was comfortable, but didn't afford them the space Shay was accustomed to when on tour with the band. That commercial airbus could hold up to sixty-four passengers in custom reconfigured seating. But he didn't want to let Davis think he was missing out on anything, so he didn't share that.

  "Not all the time," he said. "But this is a special occasion."

  "I could get used to this," Henry agreed. He held up the champagne glass he'd been given upon arrival.

  "No refills, young man," Hope said.

  Henry gave his mother a smirk and downed the champagne. He and his twin brother Davis were twenty-six-years-old and already doing well for themselves working at the same money management firm in San Francisco. Shay imagined this trip with their parents was unusual, no matter how close of a family they were.

  "Don't worry, mate," Shay said. "We'll have the chance for a little refresher where we're going."

  "Which is where, again?" Jessica asked.

  Shay had asked them all to dress nicely but was careful not offer any clue as to their destination. Never one to shy away from vibrant colors, Jessica wore a sleeveless teal dress with intricate criss-cross fabric patterns across the bodice. It fell to mid-thigh, showing off her lean, muscular legs. She was dazzling, and Shay hoped his desire for her wasn't as obvious as it felt. It wouldn’t do for her family to see how much he craved her.

  Shay cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Em, you'll see. It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it?"

  "The last surprise he arranged was pretty great, wasn't it?" Jessica's father, Alex, asked. "That trip to Morocco sounded amazing."

  "The photos!" Hope chimed in. "And the videos you put together with the slide shows embedded—is that the right word? Well, anyway, it all looked gorgeous."

  "Yes," Jessica said reluctantly, "it was a great trip. Until the end, when I got sick."

  "You can't let one stomach bug ruin the whole trip," Henry said. "Toughen up, girl."

  The big-brother-teasing-little-sister routine worked and Jessica shrugged, letting the complaint go. That the conversation ended there meant Jessica hadn't told her family about Shay leaving her to help his drug addict bother while she was sick, nor how devastating that had felt. It was a protection of her privacy—and his—that he appreciated.

  From the airport, they went straight to Convent Garden. The Paul Hamlyn Hall Champagne Bar's spectacular glass and iron atrium housed a unique, exceptionally large double-sided oval bar as part of a collaboration with Ruinart Champagne. The space acted as the main public area to the adjacent Royal Opera House.

  “Wow,” Jessica whispered as she looked up. Though the main part of the Hall was two stories high, the ceiling rose in an elongated arch at least twice as high. Innumerable separate rectangles of glass panes joined to create a visually stunning, rounded fan-shaped wall on the street side of the building.

  Shay took her hand and she held it tightly. The Hall was crowded with others similarly well-dressed, and there was a constant hum from a general good mood and lively conversation. The air was full of expectation, as if this was just a starting point, but Shay led them to believe they were only there for drinks and a light dinner. They enjoyed champagne while they ate and chatted idly.

  “Did you
know that we are right next door is the Royal Opera House?” Jessica asked.

  “Don’t care much for opera, myself,” Shay said.

  “It’s not just opera. That’s where the Royal Ballet performs.”

  “That’s odd, isn’t it? That I'd bring you over to London for a fine Christmas Eve meal and we’d end up right next door to where the Royal Ballet does their thing?” Shay asked.

  Jessica watched him for a moment as he fought off a smile. “Wait a second! Are we? Will we—“

  Just then the lights dimmed and an announcement was made asking guests to make their way to their seats in the nearby Royal Opera House for the performance of The Nutcracker.

  “Babe,” Jessica whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Don’t cry, love. You can’t cry.”

  “Looks like he did good again, didn’t he?” Alex said with a laugh. Her father had taken a liking to him right away, and Shay was grateful for the support.

  Jessica wrapped her arms around Shay’s neck and held him in a fierce grip until her brothers started taunting her over her public display of affection.

  They soon joined the crowds and found their seats in two side-by-side boxes on the Grand Tier level. Shay had never seen a ballet and this one couldn’t really count, as he kept his eyes more on Jessica than the stage. Though the venue was exceptional with an enormous domed gold and white ceiling and red velvet chairs, the look of joy, even childlike wonder, on Jessica’s face was what mesmerized him. The orchestra’s masterful performance filled his chest but it was Jessica’s happiness that made his heart swell. She was particularly dreamy-eyed during the part she later told him was called the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. He imagined she fantasized she was the one on the vast stage, up on pointe, and enthralling the audience. He wouldn’t know the full extent of her thoughts on ballet until much later. Too late, as it turned out. In the meantime, he was delighted he could give her this moment of pure pleasure. It made him want to try to re-create many more moments like that for her.

  He was able to do so quickly, as once they were back in Dublin, he escorted them to the medieval Christ Church Cathedral to listen to a midnight choir sing traditional Christmas carols. The nearly thousand year old church was almost entirely lit by candlelight, making for a magnificent setting. The stone columns and ceiling arches of the nave combined to create rich acoustics for the red-robed choir.

  On Christmas morning, Shay brought a catering company to his home to create a custom omelet station along with bacon, sausage, potatoes, breads and pastries, and fresh squeezed orange juice. Though Jessica’s family had insisted their trip was gift enough, Shay gave them each an Aran wool sweater. Privately, he gave Jessica a platinum Harry Winston four-carat diamond cluster pendant necklace.

  “This has been incredible, Shay,” Hope told him.

  They were lingering near the outskirts of the living room, watching from a distance as Jessica and her father chatted and looked at the Christmas crackers they had opened earlier. The novelty item had been a hit, as each person took one of the festively wrapped red and gold cardboard tubes and pulled on either end to split it open and create a cracking noise. The crackers contained a paper crown, a small toy musical instrument, and a corny joke. Wearing their crowns, Davis and Henry had marched off in good spirits to the game room in hope of figuring out the snooker table. The space, Shay’s “man cave,” also included a dart board, a bar, a sofa, a large screen television, and a full drum kit.

  “I’m just amazed that you all had it in you to pick up and fly over at the last minute. I admire your adventurous spirit,” Shay said.

  “Well, I have to admit that a large part of that was because Jessica begged for us to come.”

  Shay looked at her curiously.

  “I know she seems very mature and put together, and, don’t get me wrong, she is. But at the same time she’s led a pretty insular life up until a few years ago. Her world has been all about ballet and dance. She worked so hard at it. She’s a beautiful dancer.”

  “She really is. As far as ballet goes, I’ve only seen her dance ballet in class but she’s remarkable.”

  “She should be dancing with the company right now.”

  “I know she’d love that.”

  “No, Shay,” Hope said and touched his arm, “I'm saying she never should have quit San Francisco Ballet. Not after working her whole life to become a professional dancer. She only gave it three years before she quit. But you know that, I'm sure."

  Shay didn't know that, and he was confused by this revelation. It certainly wasn’t the story Jessica had presented. He knew she had studied ballet, but not that she had years of professional experience. It didn’t make sense to him that she wouldn’t have shared that.

  "I still can't understand how she quit just like that," Hope continued and snapped her fingers. "The only thing she would tell us is that she’d realized that she would never be more than a corps de ballet dancer and it wasn’t enough.”

  “I didn’t realize,” he started, but was glad when Hope interrupted. He suddenly felt a fool for not knowing something so important about the woman he was in love with.

  “Something happened to damage her confidence. I wish I knew what it was.” She sighed. “Anyway, against our advice, she quit with the idea that in New York she could pursue other kinds of dance and be happy. But once she left the company, she was never the same. Whatever shook her also left her unsure about a lot of other things. She pursued graphic arts because it was something else that came naturally to her, not because it was a passion. Even so, it helped her get back on solid ground. She was in a good place, working and studying, and taking class. Then she met you, and I saw a return of that spark within her. She feels something with you, I can tell, that both thrills and terrifies her.”

  “What do you mean—”

  “That is too strong a word. No, not terrifies, but . . . triggers this insecurity. It’s like she’s not quite sure of her own judgment. It’s why she wanted us to come here so badly. She wanted us to confirm that the good feeling she has for you can be trusted.”

  “Oh, I see. I, em, I’m not sure what to say.”

  “It’s okay, Shay, you don’t need to worry. I think you can tell you’ve won us all over. And not because of the way you’ve spoiled us with this trip, but because of the way you look at her. When you don’t think anyone else is watching, you look at her with such tenderness. It’s obvious you adore her.”

  “I do, it’s true.”

  She took a deep breath and smiled on the exhale. “Thank you again for having us, Shay. And thank you so much for last night. Maybe seeing that performance will inspire Jessica to return to ballet.”

  Shay nodded slightly, caught on the idea that Jessica might pursue a career in dance again. His heart sank as he realized her doing that could jeapordize his wish for them move in together. Shaking off this selfish thought, he focused on Hope.

  “It’s my pleasure to have you here, Hope.”

  ~

  Later that morning, Shay convinced his guests to brave a swim at The Forty Foot, a swimming hole off a rocky Sandycove plateau jutting out into the Irish Sea. The spot, Shay told them, had been a popular bathing pool for a couple hundred years, and was even referenced in James Joyce’s Ulysses. For some time now, locals had made a tradition out of jumping into the frigid waters on Christmas morning. Shay hadn’t done it since he was in school when Gavin cajoled him and a bunch of their friends, including Sophie, into doing it.

  Jessica’s brothers were fearless, diving in head first before anyone else. They also came up quickly, gasping for air through the shock of the cold water.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll sit this one out,” Hope said.

  “I’d better keep you company,” Alex said, unable to hold back a grin as he watched his sons yelp and flail while trying to convince themselves the water wasn’t so bad.

  “That leaves you and me, love,” Shay told Jessica.

  He had purchased an a
ssortment of bathing suits in several sizes for both the men and women. Under a thick white robe, Jessica wore a chocolate brown one-piece that was cut low in the front and had intricate straps in the back.

  “You really are crazy,” she told him.

  Crazy. There was that word again. She had used it often in describing him, their relationship, how quickly they had moved to something serious. He stood beside her in black and gray board shorts and bare chest. It was bracingly cold, but he was determined. It felt to him that this was an important initiation, that he was in some way bringing Jessica into his world with this silly, wild exercise. It was time for her to embrace the craziness of it all—if that’s how she saw it—because he knew it was more than that. They were more than that. Only, she had to take the leap to find that out.

  “Then be crazy with me,” he said.

  She laughed but stopped short when she saw the look in his eyes. After a moment, she slipped off the robe and threw it to her parents. Shay took her hand and held it tightly.

  “Let’s do this,” he said and she followed him to the edge where they only hesitated for a split second before jumping together, in perfect sync.

  Their relationship was made in that leap. Together they found a sweet spot of happiness. Their naturally quiet personas meshed well, and they made a life with each other that was rewarding, even though she was the one to sacrifice all she had known to be with him. She left behind the multicultural city life of New York to move to Dublin where the population was eighty-four percent white. It was impossible to ignore the stares or miss overhearing the occasional bigoted comments when she and Shay were out together, but after a time she became numb to it.

  The move was a huge adjustment and it was only after Jessica found some friends in the local dance scene that she gained a sense of belonging. It helped, too, that she was embraced by the Rogue band members as well as the organization behind the band. She used her graphic arts degree to good effect, helping refine the band’s social media platform presence.

  Shay never mentioned to Jessica what her mother had revealed to him on Christmas morning. Confronting the fact that Jessica had given up prematurely on the love of her life—dance—might have meant she would reconsider her decision. For all he knew, she really wasn’t good enough and reopening that wound would do no good. But deep down, he knew his silence on the matter was selfish, because what he really feared in bringing it up was that he’d somehow lose her to dance.