Then she burst out crying all over again, for the baby that she hadn’t even known she wanted, until the moment she learned that she wasn’t pregnant.
The Finale
Chapter 7
There was a short knock on Frazier’s office door, and then it swung open and a stylish woman in her mid-fifties strode in. All business during work hours, Marilyn Bowman, his new receptionist, came to a stop in front of his desk and handed him the day’s mail and two client files that he had asked for less than two minutes ago. He set the bundle to the side and turned back to his computer screen. “Thank you, Marilyn,” he said, glancing up at her briefly.
His fingers had been flying across the keyboard for at least sixty seconds when he glanced up again and noticed that she was still standing there. “I’m sorry, Marilyn. I didn’t know you were still here. Was there something else?”
“Yes. This just came by special messenger for you.”
He waited until she was gone to break the envelope’s seal and slide the white card out.
You are cordially invited to attend
Wendy Elizabeth Kincaid’s
one-woman production of...
TWO TO TANGO.
One night only at the
Wendy Kincaid Dance Studio
Suite C on the lower level.
Wednesday at 8 p.m.
Let yourself in, take a seat anywhere you like,
and I’ll find you.
See you there?
What in the world? Intrigued, Frazier sat back in his chair and considered the invitation.
He hadn’t even known that Wendy was back in town, let alone that she was putting on a dance recital. A one-woman show, the invitation said, and he was cordially invited. He was half-tempted to call her right now, but he decided against it. They hadn’t spoken in weeks, but Wednesday was just a couple of days away. He’d find out what was going on soon enough.
* * *
Suite C was one of three small auditoriums on the lower level of Wendy’s dance studio. They were cozy rooms, just big enough to seat around fifty people in rows of seating that fanned out into a wide arc and faced a performance platform at one end of the room. Usually, Wendy used them to host in-house recitals for small groups of students but tonight she was using Suite C to host an in-house recital for herself. And, Frazier discovered, when he let himself into the studio and she locked the door behind him, he was the entire audience.
He picked up the lone program booklet that was sitting on a wooden table by the auditorium door and scanned it as he walked inside. The photo of Wendy en pointe printed on the front cover caught his attention, mainly because she looked beautiful and serene, but also because he had taken the photo himself years ago.
He chose a seat down front, center stage in the dimly lit theater and loosened his tie. He’d come straight from work and he was exhausted, but he wouldn’t have missed her show for the world. Tonight was about more than just watching her perform. It was about simply watching her...seeing her with his own eyes and finding out for himself that she was happy.
He sat back in his seat when the lights dimmed even more and the room was a shade away from being completely dark. A spotlight switched on, illuminating the performance platform, and there was Wendy. In profile, dressed in a soft pink leotard and ballet skirt, matching tights and pointe shoes, with her head thrown back and her arms extended toward the sky, she stood perfectly still until the music began—Mozart.
Ballet was her specialty and she was very skilled at it. Her movements were feminine and graceful, mesmerizing and weightless. His gaze followed her every move, until the concerto ended and, once again, she was completely still. She held her position for a few seconds, allowed him to clap for that long, and then she relaxed, faced the audience and laced her fingers together in front of her.
“Welcome, Frazier. Thank you for coming tonight and I hope you enjoy the show,” Wendy said through a wireless headset microphone. Her voice floated in the air around him, courtesy of the speakers mounted in all four corners of the ceiling. “What you’ve seen was the prelude to the opening act, a reminder of when we first met. I was a little girl and ballet was my world. Then I met you and my world got a little bigger. Sit back, relax and let me show you how much bigger.” The spotlight switched off and the room went almost completely dark again.
He smiled even though she couldn’t see him and wondered what the hell she was up to.
When the spotlight switched on again a couple of minutes later, she had exchanged the pink outfit for a white leotard and a flowing, multicolored, ankle-length skirt. Soft-soled, leather dance shoes replaced her pointe shoes. This time, she was seated on the floor. “Whenever I had problems that I needed to talk through with someone or secrets to share or I just needed a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for me, Frazier. I don’t think I could’ve made it through high school or my mother without you. But the funny thing about being your friend back then was that I was always so confused about my feelings for you.” She giggled softly, coyly. “We always said we’d never keep secrets from each other but I did keep one secret from you. I was the one who sent you all those anonymous love poems back in high school. I used to slip them in your locker after school so you’d find them first thing the next morning and I could watch you read them.”
Frazier’s eyebrows shot up and shock sat on his face for a moment. He remembered those poems clearly, and the fact that he’d never found out who sent them...until now. He felt his face flush with heat and was glad for the cover of darkness.
She stood and positioned herself. The music, when it started, was slow and bluesy, rich in wailing saxophone and sweeping piano notes. Wendy’s body flowed with the rhythm of it, bending and twirling fluidly in a song of movement that stole his breath and aroused him beyond belief. As the song came to an end and she relaxed into a loose-limbed stance, facing her audience, she said, “That’s when I first admitted to myself that I was in love with you.”
The spotlight switched off and Frazier released the breath he was holding in one long whistle of pent-up frustration. Two months’ worth. He sat completely still in his seat, waiting to see what she would do next and wondering if whatever it was could possibly make him love her any more than he already did.
A hard-core instrumental rap beat blared through the speakers next and, after a few seconds, his head bobbed in time to it. Her soft voice curled around him in the darkness. “I was on top of the world in college. I was at the top of my game, in the best shape I had ever been in and probably will ever be in. I saw myself becoming a superstar and dancing on Broadway, but then a horrible accident stole that life from me and I had to build another kind of life for myself. I was angry and hurt and cynical about life...feeling something like this.”
The spotlight switched on and she was in the center of it, dancing. Now she was wearing a billowing white T-shirt that was knotted at her waist over her leotard, a studded red baseball cap on her head, and red leather dance shoes on her feet. Her movements were efficient and perfectly timed, angry and vibrating with intense emotion. Her feet hit the floor simultaneously with the bass and the expression on her face was stoic throughout the entire hip-hop number.
She danced her heart out until the track drew to a close, glistening with perspiration and favoring her right leg toward the very end. When it was over, her chest was rising and falling with rapid breaths that tapped against her microphone forcefully. When her breathing had calmed down, she spoke again.
“You helped me rebuild my life, Frazier, and I have never been able to imagine a time when you wouldn’t be in it. These past two months, being away from you and pretending like what we shared didn’t matter, like being with you didn’t matter, have been the worst two months of my life. I was so busy chasing the life that I thought I should have that I wasn’t paying attention to the fact that the life I h
ave right now is pretty damn great just the way it is. I finally figured out the reason I was so unhappy in Las Vegas and it was because I wasn’t here...with you. I guess you could say I had an epiphany, Frazier.”
Darkness took over again, but her voice kept him company.
“You’ve always known that I love dancing. It’s who I am, what I was born to do. And you’ve seen me do a lot of dancing—ballet, contemporary, hip-hop, all kinds. But I don’t think you’ve ever seen me dance the Tango. I’ve never really cared for it because it requires one person to lead and the other to follow, and I’ve never been good at following.” She giggled seductively. “I think you’ve always known that, too.”
The air around him shifted and he knew immediately that she was standing behind him. Her name sprang to the tip of his tongue, but he held it in and sat still, waiting. If they were about to make any new moves together, then she was going to have to be the one to initiate the dance.
“I always thought I didn’t like the Tango because it meant that I would have to give the best parts of myself over to another person, even if it was only for a few moments. But I know now that it wasn’t the giving over part that I was unsure about. It was the fact that I hadn’t yet found the right partner to lead.” Her hands landed on his shoulders softly, sliding down onto his chest just as she hung her head over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Until now.”
“Wendy,” he said, turning his head and feeling her soft lips near the corner of his mouth. Whatever else he’d been about to say flew right out of his mind.
“We’ve been circling around each other for years. Now I think it’s time for us to choose partners for the dance of a lifetime and I choose you. Tango with me, Frazier.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Frazier replied as he turned his head a little more and met her open mouth with his tongue.
Encore! Encore!
Chapter 8
Christmas Day
Ten Months Later
Las Vegas, Nevada
The applause was deafening and, as Wendy finished her closing speech and walked offstage, she beamed with pride.
The Greeley Dance Company’s Christmas recital had been a raging success and, if the standing ovation that she’d just received was any indication, her choreography was a big part of the reason why. Her students had danced beautifully, giving as much to their onstage performances as she had given to them during countless hours of instruction and rehearsals. Now that it was all over, the nostalgic emotions that had been swirling around inside of her all day were threatening to bubble to the surface and spill over.
This was the third recital that she’d been a part of, but it was the first one that she alone had choreographed from start to finish. It was sort of like her official coming out with Greeley and she’d done it spectacularly. If she could’ve jumped up and clicked her heels together, she would’ve. Instead, she settled for a dainty fist pump and a quick little victory shuffle.
Blinking back happy tears, Wendy quickly made her way through a maze of backstage corridors to her dressing room.
A cast party had been planned for right after the recital and she wanted to grab a few minutes of alone time before it started. She couldn’t wait to get out of the floor-length, royal-blue sequined dress and the strappy, four-inch heels that had been in cahoots to silently torture her all evening.
Luckily, the cast hadn’t yet begun drifting backstage and the stagehands were too busy dealing with the close of the recital to notice her, so her getaway was clean. And thank God for that because she was exhausted. The next time anyone set eyes on her, she thought as she walked into her dressing room, collapsed back against the door and closed her eyes, she would be wearing a pair of leggings, her favorite ballet flats and a freshly scrubbed face.
As far as appearances went, she planned to put one in at the cast party and make her excuses as quickly as possible. Greeley’s founders, as well as a whole host of sponsors and patrons would be there; therefore skipping it altogether would be rude. But she had a plane to catch later that night, so after she shook a few hands and posed for a few pictures, she was out of there.
As much as she was going to miss working with her students at Greeley, she missed being home in St. Louis with Frazier even more. They were still a few months away from their first wedding anniversary, but she already knew that she wanted to share a million more anniversaries with him.
They had only just moved into the home they’d finally stopped debating about purchasing. Frazier’s investment firm had grown so much that he was now splitting his time between two branches and her dance studio was holding its own. She was so ready to be home again, sharing her life with the love of hers, that longing for it brought fresh tears to her eyes.
After a quick shower, Wendy slipped into black leggings and a matching cashmere tunic, then sank down into an overstuffed chair to begin the arduous task of putting on her shoes. By the time she was done, which was at least four minutes later, she was slightly winded and even more eager to get home.
She’d only been away from Frazier for three days, but she missed his helping her with things like zippers, socks and shoes with an outrageousness that bordered on obsession. Three days felt more like three years and, as if that wasn’t bad enough, today was Christmas and they were apart. They had agreed that he would travel with his mother to Chicago, since Wendy had to be in Las Vegas for the recital, but still.
As if sensing her thoughts, a dull thud reverberated through Wendy’s midsection.
Relaxing back into the chair’s cushions, she wrapped her arms around the area and cradled the beach-ball-size source. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one missing Frazier. The wee one currently hiding out in her tummy wasn’t scheduled to make an appearance for another three months, but he or she was already making a statement.
A light knock sounded at the door and then a woman’s voice called out, “The cast party starts in ten minutes, Miss Wendy.”
“On my way,” Wendy called back and slowly pushed herself up and out of the chair. She waddled over to the dressing table, quickly smoothed her hair into a bun at the top of her head and dabbed on lip gloss. One hour, she promised herself. One hour of making the rounds and munching on hors d’oeuvres, and not a second longer. After that, she was going to treat herself to some real food and then head straight for the airport.
She picked up her cell phone from the dressing table, checked for any missed calls and then shot off a text to Frazier.
I love you.
She was imagining him sitting in some stuffy parlor in Chicago, listening to his mother’s and his aunts’ lively chatter and wishing for a cold beer, when she opened her dressing room door and froze.
“I love you, too, baby,” Frazier said, grinning devilishly.
Shocked, Wendy launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her up and against him in a grip that accommodated the baby bump between them, but was still so sure and masculine that she almost swooned.
The kiss he laid on her was deep and possessive, capable of sending a rush of pleasure straight to her core. After reveling in it for several seconds, she pulled back from his lips and stared up at him.
“Babe, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago.” He set her on her feet and she instantly leaned into him again, pulling his face down for another kiss.
“I caught a flight back here a couple of hours ago. You didn’t really think I’d miss your last recital of the season, did you?”
His words, combined with his infectious smile, warmed her from the inside out. “You saw it?”
“Yep. All the way from the balcony, I saw it.” He dropped a kiss on her upturned lips and then on her forehead. “It was wonderful, baby. Perfect. I’m proud of you.”
There they were again, the tears that lately Wendy couldn’t seem to contr
ol. Seeing them made Frazier chuckle and Wendy blush. “Aww, baby, don’t cry. It’s Christmas Day and I’m holding the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He swiped at her tears with the pads of his thumbs and then drew her into a gentle hug. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”
God, she loved him.
Wendy buried her nose in Frazier’s neck, held on to him for dear life, and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Frazier.”
* * * * *
For my brother-in-law Earl F. Milloy—the World Traveler—you are now in the best place of all… At Home with the Lord! Rest well, Good Brother! We will love you always and forever!
Velvet
Tied Up in Tinsel
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 1
Brooklyn Samuels nestled into the plush leather seat of the chartered jet. Her heart raced as the Falcon 2000 soared closer to its destination. Brooklyn was en route to New York from Los Angeles for a weekend of festivities surrounding her best friend’s post-Christmas wedding. The impending nuptials were not responsible for her nervousness. She couldn’t have been happier for Pepper and Michael, who had been college sweethearts. The source of her angst was Landis Keates, the former star of their university’s football team. The four of them—Brooklyn, Landis, Pepper and Michael—had attended college together, but Brooklyn hadn’t seen Landis since she’d made her drastic transformation.
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