Skater's Waltz

by Peggy Jaeger

  “What are you doing, you maniac?” she asked through laughter.

  “You used to love piggy back rides down to breakfast when you were a kid. Has anything about that changed?”

  Tiffany considered it a moment, then shook her head. “No,” she answered. “Surprisingly, it hasn’t.”

  “Well, then let’s go eat.”

  “This is ridiculous.” She squealed while Cole bounced her into the living room.

  “Shut up, Brat. It’s bringing back fond memories for me.”

  Tiffany’s laugh caught in her throat when she saw the figure standing at the kitchen bar, a pot of coffee in his hand.

  “Good morning,” Mike said, staring at the two of them.

  “Mike.” Tiffany quickly slid off Cole’s back, adjusting her robe as she did. “What are you doing here?” She crossed to him, stood up on her toes, and pecked his cheek.

  “Your mother forgot about an interview she was supposed to give this morning. I was elected to come over and make sure you were doing okay.” His gaze slid from his stepdaughter to his nephew. “I guess I can report you are.”

  Tiffany felt a blush spread like wildfire from her neck all the way up to her cheeks.

  “Want some coffee?” he asked Cole.

  “Sure.”

  Mike smiled while he poured it. “Your mother made me promise I’d force you to eat something, knowing that you never have breakfast,” he told Tiffany. “Be a good girl and eat something for me so I’m not a liar when I tell her you did, okay?”

  She nodded. “What did you bring? It smells great out here.”

  “Bagels. Two dozen mixed.”

  “I’ll never eat even a quarter of them before they go stale.”

  Mike laughed. “Don’t worry. I got a bunch of my favorites. Whatever you two leave I’ll take back home.”

  “I think I’ll go get dressed,” Cole said, grabbing a bagel and his coffee mug and slipping from the room.

  “Coward,” Tiffany muttered to his retreating back.

  “Well, you look better than last night. Color’s back in your cheeks,” Mike told her. “How’s the head?”

  Tiffany cut into a plain bagel and put it in the toaster oven. “Much better. Just a dull ringing every now and then. This whole incident has just been freaky.”

  Mike’s eyes darkened. “I spoke with Wilson this morning before I came over. The police have located the floral shop where the flowers were purchased. Nothing new since then. But don’t worry,” he added, rubbing her shoulder. “He’ll catch whoever did this.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She took the bagel from the oven and plated it.

  “Sean and Cole told us last night about what’s been going on. Tiffany, why didn’t you confide in us? Your mother is so upset over this.”

  “Don’t you think I am?” she railed at him. Guilt flowed fast. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I’m just so angry.”

  “Angry? I figured you’d be scared.”

  “I was at first. But not anymore. Whoever did this wants me out of the show, but I have no intention of quitting.”

  “I hope you’re not placing yourself in any further danger by thinking that way, Tiff.”

  “What would you have me do? Turn tail and back out? That’s not who I am, Mike, and you know it.”

  He shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “No, you’re not. You’re awfully like your mother in that regard.”

  When he smiled at her, all the fury went out of her. “You won’t tell her, will you, about, I mean…”

  The expression on Mike’s face turned solemn. “You and Cole?”

  She nodded, her gaze dropping to her uneaten bagel.

  “She’s the one who told me last night.”

  All of a sudden Tiffany saw the humor and grinned. “Figures. Not once in my life could I ever keep a secret from her. And Cole said she was a keen observer. I guess this proves it.” She glanced up at him. “You’re not mad or anything, are you?”

  He took her in his arms and hugged her. “Oh, I’m something all right. Delighted appears to be the best word at the moment. To say I was shocked when she told me would have been a lie. I know how much you’ve always adored Cole, Tiff. You two mean more to me than any children I could have fathered. That you’ve found each other in a special way pleases me a great deal. And just in case you’re wondering, your mother feels the same.”

  Tiffany drew in a ragged breath. When she pulled back, tears threatened to fall.

  “You love him very much, don’t you?” he asked, swiping at one tear as it trailed down her face.

  “So much so it scares me at times,” she admitted. She looked him directly in the eye, cocked her head and added, “And you know not much scares me.”

  “That’s my girl. Now eat.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ten minutes later Cole joined them.

  “I have to get back to the UN,” he told them. “I just got off the phone with the bureau. There’s some buzz the treaty may be finalized today.”

  Mike nodded. “I heard the news as I was driving here. You’ll do the twelve and six-thirty feeds?”

  “Plus break-ins during the day, if needed. This is a big story. If all goes well, the President’s foreign relations approval rating should go through the roof, since he basically brokered the deal.”

  “Will you have to go back?” Tiffany asked.

  He stared down at her and gently smoothed the area between her brows with his finger. “Maybe. If the network wants a resolution piece. It’s been my story for two years.”

  “Well, then, who better to finish it,” Mike said.

  Of course he’d go back. It made sense to his career. But knowing it didn’t stop the hurt and pain from slicing through her at the possibility they’d be separated just when they’d finally found one another.

  The phone rang twice, indicating the doorman’s line.

  Cole answered it. “It’s Sean. He’s on his way up.”

  “Maybe he has some news,” Mike said, draining his coffee. “And along those lines, I hope, young lady, you’re not going to the rink today.”

  Tiffany bit back her irritation and tried for calm. “Of course I am,” she said evenly. “I have a show opening in a few days, and I need to practice. I need to be there. It’s my show, Mike. My show.”

  Before he could argue the point, Cole let Sean into the apartment.

  “Smells great in here,” he said, smiling, his eyes coming to rest on Tiffany. Nodding, he added, “I don’t have to ask how you are. It’s written all over your face.”

  “Any news?” Cole asked, refilling his cup and pouring the director one as well.

  “Aye. Detective Wilson showed me the composite sketch of the man who purchased the flowers.”

  “Did you recognize it?” Tiffany asked.

  “No, I’m afraid not, lass, but ’twasn’t for lack of trying. He had a baseball cap clamped down on his head and big dark sunglasses covering most of his face. The one thing Wilson could tell me was your doorman and the lady at the flower shop said he wasn’t too tall. Maybe five foot nine or ten. Not much more.”

  “Well, it’s something, anyway,” she said. When she looked up she found her director’s gaze still on her. “I want to skate today,” she said firmly. “With the entire company.”

  Before Cole or Mike could protest, Sean put up a hand. “She’s right, of course. And she should.”

  “But Sean, obviously someone in the company is responsible for what’s happened,” Cole said, his face turning red. “You can’t allow her to be put in such a potentially dangerous situation.”

  “I’m torn both ways, lad. I agree, Tiffany, you need to be protected. Let me finish.”

  She closed her mouth.

  “But I also think having you there, practicing with everyone, having me keep an eye on you, will put whoever’s responsible off. I can’t think he’ll try something in front of everyone.”

  “Are you forgetting the cannon?�
� Cole asked. “It went off in front of everyone.”

  “Aye, it did, but see now, we’re prepared. I have the video camera all set up in Tiffany’s dressing room. And she’ll stay with me every minute of the day. Is that understood?”

  She nodded. Rising from the bar stool, she crossed to him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  The aging skater’s pale face turned pink. Clearing his throat he said, “None necessary, lass. We need to fine tune this show.”

  “I don’t like it,” Mike said.

  “You’ve got company there,” Cole added, his eyes burning into Tiffany’s.

  “Look,” she told them both, after first taking a breath. “Aside from hiring a bodyguard, there’s nothing we can do. Now I’m getting dressed. Wait for me?” she asked Sean.

  “Aye, lass.”

  When she was out of earshot, Cole turned on him, eyes blazing. “Are you insane?”

  “Calm down, and no, I’m not crazy. Did you hear what she just said about a bodyguard?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Wait. Do you honestly think she’d let you hire one to keep an eye on her?”

  “No, she wouldn’t.” Cole shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Too damn stubborn.”

  “Aye, she is. But it’s already been taken care of.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mike asked.

  “My friend, the videographer? His name’s Paolo DeCaccini. I’ve known him for years. One of the best private investigators around. Does a little protection work when the spirit moves him.”

  “Are you saying DeCaccini is going to be keeping an eye on Tiff?” Cole asked.

  “Both eyes, if I know Paolo. He’s at the arena now, going over it from top to bottom. If I’d told Tiffany about this she would have nixed the idea immediately. This way, what she doesn’t know…”

  “Could just save her,” Cole finished, smiling at last. “You’re okay, Sean. We think alike.”

  “Aye, and fond I am of you, as well, lad.”

  “Okay, I’m ready,” Tiffany said, bounding back into the room. “Why are you three smiling?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

  Cole swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, while Mike and Sean hid their faces behind their mugs.

  “Like what, Brat?”

  She advanced on them slowly, her gaze traveling from one to the other. “What’s going on? I can tell there’s something, and it probably concerns me.”

  “Conceited, just like always.” Sean took her coat from her hands and helped her into it. “Nothing, Your Highness, is going on. Just man talk.”

  “Man talk? How positively fascinating.” She rolled her eyes.

  Before she could leave, Cole reached out for her and took her hand. “I’ll come by the arena as soon as I can. I don’t know when that’ll be, but I promise, I’ll come by. Be careful.”

  Tiffany reached up and kissed his cheek. “I will. Promise.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “How’s the ankle?” Jane asked. She skated up to Tiffany and stopped at the barrier.

  Tiffany pulled her skate guards off and smiled. “Better than ever. I think I needed a few days off. I haven’t felt so rested in a long time.”

  “We missed you around here. It was no fun doing all those numbers alone, although Miss Ukraine has been behaving herself. No tantrums in almost a week.”

  Tiffany’s gaze traveled to where Marina was skating with Bryan, going over a few fine points in their routine. “Good to hear.”

  “Did Sean ever find out what went wrong with the cannon backfiring the other day?”

  “If he has, he hasn’t told me,” she said, biting her lip and mentally cursing the fact she had to lie. But Sean had told her to keep quiet about everything. Not being able to trust anyone in the show was hard for Tiffany, but for once, she listened and did as she was told.

  “It was pretty awful seeing you fly down the ramp out of control, Tiff. I swear my heart just stopped. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt.”

  “Luck has a lot to do with it,” she answered, pulling the laces tighter on her skate.

  Jane’s smile turned into a leer. “Luck, and the fact the tall, dark and handsome news hunk was right there didn’t hurt either.”

  Tiffany glanced up at her, caught the saucy look, and laughed. “News hunk, huh? I guess I don’t see Cole the same way.”

  “Oh, honey, come on. The guy is a serious contender for People’s sexiest man issue.”

  Tiffany rolled her tongue across her teeth, considering. “Maybe.”

  “No maybes about it. Eye candy has nothing on him. Oh, and hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Sean said you were going to practice privately until the show opened. Why?”

  With a shrug, Tiffany said, “Just an idea. It didn’t turnout to be a good one, though, so I’m here now, and ready to go. I can’t believe we open in two days.”

  “I’m a little nervous,” Jane admitted, blowing on her hands. “This isn’t like tournaments where you skate once or twice and you’re done. I’ve got to know my numbers cold plus yours. That’s a lot to handle.”

  “Just concentrate on yours, Jane, and everything will be fine. I’m planning on being center ice when we open and every night afterwards.”

  “Good. I’ve got enough to worry about with just my stuff and the group routines. If I had to do yours I think I’d have a nervous breakdown.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” Tiffany grinned.

  Jane returned the smile. A voice called out from the rink.

  “The mighty director bellows,” Tiffany said.

  They both skated out to center ice where Sean was holding court.

  The morning went smoothly. Tiffany was constantly surrounded by people, and never left alone for a moment. And everywhere she looked she could see Sean. It comforted her more than anything else could have.

  They worked through lunch and late into the afternoon.

  “Come on, Sean, have a heart. My feet are killing me,” Bryan Timms said at five o’clock. “And I’ll bet mine aren’t the only ones.”

  A verbal wave of agreement swelled up among the group.

  “You’re all going soft on me.” Sean blew out a frustrated breath.

  “It is true. My toes, they are what you call frozen to the bones,” Marina said, rubbing her ankles together.

  “Soft,” Sean repeated. “All right. We’ll stop for now. But I don’t want to hear any complaints when we start at seven tomorrow morning and go on until we’re done no matter what the time.”

  The groans grew louder.

  “This show goes on in forty-eight hours, kids, in case you’ve forgotten. We need a full dress rehearsal tomorrow, and there’s no squawking about it. Now, you all run along home, rest your poor tired feet,” he said in a mocking voice, “and be back here at seven sharp, ready to go.”

  While the company dispersed, Tiffany skated up to her coach. “You’re the most hated man alive right now. How does it feel?”

  “Like usual,” he said, tossing down his clipboard. “I’ve still got to go over the lighting for Queen of the Night with Jeremy. I can’t leave for a while yet.”

  “I’m not tired anyway. I want to do a few practice runs now while I have the ice to myself.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll be able to see you from the booth. Want music?”

  “Nope. It’s in my head.”

  “Aye, and a lot more I’ll bet,” he muttered. He walked off the ice and up through the bleachers.

  Tiffany stretched, did a few deep knee bends and then skated once around the outer perimeter of the ice. She could hear the music in her head, just as she’d told Sean, every beat, every change, every cadence. She wanted to run through two of the numbers just to get her timing, which she knew was already solid, even better.

  With the beat coursing through her, Tiffany began building up speed, crossing her skates over one another to maintain it. The first jump was a triple axel, executed to perfection, landing her back on the ic
e just on the downbeat. All conscious thought was gone as she let her body, the muscle memory of doing the routine a thousand times, take over and work on autopilot. Every jump/spin sequence and combination was flawless, as were the dance moves.

  “It’s perfect as it stands,” Cole called out to her.

  She squinted and followed the sound of his voice, noticing as she did how subtle the change inside her was. A moment before, her heart had been beating fast, an effect of the vigorous routine. Now, at the sound of his voice, the rhythm changed, quickened and leaped about within her.

  How could he do this to her? How was it possible to feel like this and not burst from happiness? All it took was a look her way, a brief touch of his hand on her hair smoothing the curls, or a fleeting memory of how he looked when he was inside her, to make her toes curl. No victory had ever felt as sweet as when his breath coursed over her cheek on the way to a kiss.

  Love.

  She never knew it could make her feel so powerful and so weak at the same time.

  Habit had her scoffing at his statement. “Nothing’s ever perfect as it stands.”

  As he walked toward the ice, he shot back, “When it’s your skating it is.”

  If Tiffany could have, she would have floated across the ice to him and straight into his arms.

  “Since you sound sincere, I’ll take your comment as a compliment.” She glided over to the ice entranceway, stopped, and waited for him.

  “How gracious of you.” When he reached her he tugged her over the wooden barrier and into his arms.

  “God, I missed you,” he whispered into her hair. “All I could think about all day was you, how you were, if anything was happening.”

  Tiffany smiled, content. “I’m fine and nothing out of the ordinary happened. But it’s nice to know you were thinking about me.”

  “Where’s Sean?”

  “Up in the sound room going over some stuff. Don’t worry.” She patted his cheek. “I can see him from here and he can see me.”

  To prove the point she turned and waved up to the center bleacher area where the sound room was located, tucked under an awning. Sean waved back.

  “Are you done for the day?” Tiffany asked, resting her head against his chest.