by Kate Swain
“Oh!” I smiled. She was thinking of me. I had asked her to keep an eye out for space I could rent, and she was doing her job.
She was always great at what she did.
I hadn’t expected that she would find a place that sounded so promising so quickly. In less than a day even!
“I wonder how much they want for it?” I queried.
She shot back a price that I couldn’t afford. My stomach twisted. As usual, when somebody mentioned something perfect, I often was letdown because I could not afford it.
But I shouldn’t be let down—it’s a reminder of what’s out there and what’s possible.
I felt my spirits rise, and I strengthened my resolve. Opening a dance studio was all I wanted. It had been my dream since I started college. My passion and love of dance had landed me a scholarship to NYU, something I could never afford on my own. I knew my education would open doors for me. I wanted to teach kids dance, so that it could change their lives as it had mine.
All I needed was the right space.
“Sorry, Maddy,” she said after a silence. “I guess it’s too much.”
“It is,” I agreed. “I really need something under a thousand dollars per month. Ideally somewhere around seven fifty, so I have enough money to remodel and turn it into a real studio.”
She drew in a breath. “It’s tough,” she said. “But, you know what? I know it’s possible.”
I smiled. That was one of the best things about Rebecca—she would try and help no matter how hard the project sounded. And I knew that, with her on my side, we would find the perfect place to launch Brightest Life Dance Studio and make it real.
I knew the basics for planning my own studio. I needed a commercial space, the sort that had accessibility, safety, and loads of space for parking. I also needed a space big enough to hold twenty-five or so students—a dance floor of three hundred square feet. It was a tall order and I knew it. But I was sure we would find it.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat and changing the subject. “How are things otherwise?”
“Well, now…” Rebecca’s voice dropped a register, becoming sexier. I laughed. She had clearly been involved in one of her many dalliances and it sounded as if it had gone well.
“Who is it?” I asked, prompting a happy laugh.
“It’s a guy I met last month… he works at the computer shop. He’s a smart guy. The job is only part-time while he finishes his studies at grad school.”
I smiled while listening as she relayed some more details of her latest romantic interest.
Rebecca was the sort of person who lived life fully and joyously. I couldn’t help but enjoy hearing her stories. And oddly, I didn’t find her a threat, though many women might have viewed her as one.
I will have adventures of my own when I feel ready for them.
I’d had more than enough. And right now I wanted time to figure my life out before committing to anything.
I chatted for a bit longer, and the conversation turned to the weather in Kansas today. I glanced through the windshield then glanced at my watch. It was three o’clock, and I really needed to get moving if I wanted to get to my destination.
“Sorry, girlfriend,” I said dolefully. “Have to fly.” A bit of dust was blowing into the car and it stung my eyes. I blinked my brown eyes and rolled up the window
“No worries!” Rebecca said warmly. “See you soon. Let me know when you have time to meet up.”
“I will. Thanks!” I grinned. I was surprised by how much I was looking forward to seeing her. I had missed Becca in the months since she’d moved back home.
“And we’ll have tons of fun when we go out—prepare to turn heads in Kansas City, girlfriend!”
I smiled and said “that sounds great. Good bye.” As I drove away, I shook my head, smiling at her enthusiasm.
I don’t want to meet somebody yet.
I wasn’t ready. Besides, I had met enough men in college to know that the only one who had made a real impression on me was tall, blue-eyed and stunning. He still appeared in my thoughts even though I had not seen him for five years.
Mark Brand.
He was well-built, funny and playful. He was a bit of a bad-boy. He was also my brother’s best friend.
I remembered first meeting him. He and I had seen each other a few times—after all, he worked with my brother, and I went out with Adam regularly when I lived in Kansas City. I knew that he was the last guy I should be thinking about. On every front, he was absolutely wrong for me. He was dangerous, smooth-talking, sexy. And being well-acquainted with my brother meant that in order to be with him, I’d have to have Adam’s approval. Not likely, for sure. Besides, he was out of my league.
All the same, as I took my foot off the brake and eased back onto the road I saw his face floating in my dreamy mind.
“Stop it, Maddison,” I told myself. I should know better than to even consider the idea.
But I could not help it. Mark was not the sort of guy I should be thinking of. He really did have a bit of a reputation. Besides, I knew Adam wouldn’t exactly approve—when I was eighteen he’d warned me to stay away from him.
“He’s not your kind,” he’d said gently. “And he’s not the sort of guy I want you to be involved with.”
I shook my head. I really ought to believe Adam. He was a great big brother, smart on these kinds of things, and he really could be relied on to know what was best for me.
He’d protected me all my life.
My stomach twisted painfully. My brother had been more of a parent when I was younger than either of my parents. Dad, when he was around, was abusive and unhappy. My mom, I admitted, had tried, but drinking had been the crutch she needed to get her through my dad’s behavior. As a mom, she was not fully there for us. I remembered her with a mix of sorrow and a feeling of betrayal. I had wished then that she could have found her love for us stronger than her need to escape everything. It would have been nice if her love had been stronger, even just now and then.
I knew I should have been more understanding, but even now as an adult and being able to see why she did what she did, I still wish our mom had acted differently.
My brother and I grew up staying in our rooms, frightened and tense, while shouts and barely-contained violence erupted between our parents; fights that always ended badly. Or he and I avoided our house altogether, playing or visiting our friends. I moved out as soon as I could, boarding with a friend. That was how I and Becca first met ten years ago. Adam had done an apprenticeship and shortly after, he’d started work at the motorcycle shop. Two years later, I’d won a prestigious scholarship to go to college.
And now, for the first time in years, I was going back.
It was a weird feeling.
“Why, of all places in the world, are you coming back here?” I asked myself, looking in the rearview mirror. She looked back at me with a round, soft face with red lipstick and big eyes. I shook my head, letting my hair lift off my brow where the sweat had stuck it firmly. Driving was hot work in the Midwest in summer!
I asked myself the question inwardly as I hit the first real traffic since starting out.
I had nowhere to stay. I mean I was staying with Adam. But not until I managed to set myself up as a teacher with regular income could I have my own place. I had some savings, but not enough to support myself for the few months while I looked around and certainly not enough for a deposit on an apartment and a dance studio. I was so grateful for Adam.
“So, here we are,” I smiled.
I tried to feel brave about coming back home, but it was a weird feeling. I hadn’t been home for four years. In college, I had deliberately avoided it not just because flights from NYC to Kansas City were pricey, but because I didn’t want to see my family.
I had missed Adam.
I smiled to myself. I had seen him at Christmas twice when he came to visit me and then twice more, when we’d had holidays at a friend’s place in Chicago. But this would be
the first time in a long time and I would be living with him. I wondered if he looked different.
I filled in the image of my older brother. He was four years my senior, with hair a shade paler and striking blue eyes. He had a long straight nose, full mouth, and a serious but friendly face. He looked mature for his age, which was unsurprising given that he’d taken care of me since I was a kid.
I wondered as I drove up the familiar street what was new in his life. I knew that he was still working at Brand’s Bike Shop, the business owned by Carter Brand, elder brother of Mark. I felt my heart tingle. I wondered if I would see Mark again.
“Come on, you…”
I chided myself. I was not here to daydream about a guy from my past, nor, for that matter, about guys at all. I was here to build my vision of having the best dance studio for low-income children that I could. And I would do it.
All I needed was the space.
“Come on, dammit,” I swore at my pickup, as the gears ground and the engine refused to go. I loved my Ford Pickup, but it was far from reliable. I had bought it with the savings from my scholarship. It was the only thing I’d considered an extravagance while in college.
It had been built in 1999, it consumed oil faster than I consumed candy, and it smelled like a diesel plant. But it had got me through my studies and to countless dance rehearsals. And now it had driven me and all my stuff halfway across the country.
“So, it’s certainly been useful,” I mused, as it backfired loudly. I glanced at the dashboard, frowning. I was running low on gas. I looked around, deciding that the first thing I should do was find a gas station somewhere. I felt my stomach twist queasily as I realized that I didn’t know Adam’s new address.
“Damn it,” I swore.
I pulled over and checked my emails. I was near Brand’s Bike Shop, I knew that. If I had to, I could always drop in and find him there.
I felt my cheeks flood with color. I might also see Mark.
“Come on, girl,” I chided myself. I pulled my phone out and called Adam. I was starting to feel nervous and I wanted to get there before dinner. I did not want to be late, after all.
2
Mark
“Hey! What were you saying?”
I bit my lip and yelled again as the roar of the engine continued. It seemed futile, but I needed to know what my colleague was yelling.
“What did you say?”
The engine stopped. Adam looked up from the speedometer, a strand of blonde hair falling into one eye. He grinned at me.
“Sorry, Mark. Didn’t hear you.”
I groaned inwardly and repeated myself. “I said, what did you say?” I was very fond of Adam. He was a great mechanic and a good team-mate. His irrepressible optimism got on my nerves sometimes, I had to admit. But that was probably, as Matt my brother always said, because I was so down-in-the-dumps so often.
I prefer to think of myself as realistic.
I looked up at Adam, waiting for his reply.
“Oh. I said that I think there’s something wrong with the engine. See that?” he pointed to the thick smoke in the exhaust.
“Yeah,” I said, with a sour expression. I could do more than see it. I could smell it, breathe it and practically eat it. It was so thick, it was choking me. That there was something faulty with the engine was not open to question. The fact that we’d just rebuilt the engine made it more confusing.
“Well, it looks like something’s leaking,” Adam said with a big grin.
I shut my eyes. “You can say that again.” A strand of my dark hair flopped over one eye as I bent forward. I scraped it away irritably. Adam grinned at me.
“It looks like…”
I groaned. I was hot. I was tired. I head a headache. The last thing I needed right now was Adam being clever. I was stressed and I really didn’t need my friend’s wise-guy cracks on top of all the things I was worrying about. Usually, I loved his silly sense of humor, but today it was grating on me as badly as the rattle of the engine, the smell of the exhaust and the smoke.
“Hey, man,” Adam said, still good humored despite my complaint. “It’s okay. I’ll get the kit and we’ll check if it’s the oil that’s leaking. I didn’t mean to get on your nerves. Sorry, bro.”
I sighed. “No worries.”
I couldn’t stay mad with Adam for long.
He stood and went over the workbench. I resumed my work, which was finishing the chrome. I really enjoyed my job, and making the Harley of our best client stunning was absolutely satisfying. I didn’t know why I felt so bad-tempered this afternoon.
“Hey, that bike’s looking…” Adam began, as he came over gesturing at my handiwork. As he did so, his phone rang, and he made a face, reaching for his phone. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” I said, watching Adam turn away, phone in hand. I used the moment to brush my dark hair off my sweaty forehead and wonder why I was so pissed-off.
“I guess I’m irritated.”
I had been out to the pub the previous evening and, as usual, ended up with the heavy drinkers. We’d had a good evening and I’d had more than a few opportunities to take a girl home. That wasn’t what worried me about the evening.
I did not want to hook up with anyone last night.
I didn’t understand it. Matt had just laughed and said that I had probably had enough girls for one lifetime. I shrugged.
“I wonder if there’s something up with me.”
I was twenty-eight years old, and I couldn’t imagine that I was ill. What could it be, then? Maybe I was stressed.
But, I thought, frowning as I turned back to work, I was happy despite my moments of being realistic. I felt fulfilled at my job, was growing more and more skilled as a mechanic, and my older brother Carter said our family business was doing really well. There should be no obstacles or problems in my present or future.
I glanced up from my work, where I was busy fastening on the last of the chrome plated accessories to a custom bike. Adam returned from the parking lot out front, a frown on his brow, looking nervous and still on his phone.
“Listen, I might be late. Can you just go to the apartment?” Adam said. There was a pause, then he continued, “Sure, Maddy. That is great.”
I raised an eyebrow. Maddy Barnes, his little sister. I didn’t know she was back already. She was studying in New York, or she had been the last time I heard anything about her. It seemed strange that she’d return here.
She was such a talented dancer. I thought she’d find work up in the big city. Maybe Broadway or something.
Why, I wondered, would she choose to come back here, when her talent could take her anywhere on the planet?
I blushed. I hadn’t realized how much respect I had for Maddy Barnes.
I remembered when I had last seen her. I was at a New Year’s bash. My brothers were there with me. Adam brought his little sister who was eighteen years old. She was dancing with a guy who had been apprenticed with us for a while. He was going off to college himself. Adam approved of him, and I could see that.
All the same, I wondered then if I had a chance with her.
I remembered how Maddy had danced, perfectly timed with the rhythm of the soulful music that stirred the blood. She moved sensually and I watched her toned, curvy body in admiration. I remembered how I’d ached for not going over and asking her to dance.
I glanced over at Adam. He would have killed me.
I knew I had a reputation, even then.
I also knew, I thought with a sigh, as I took a screwdriver and gently helped Adam to open the housing for the engine once more, that I was not the sort of guy big brothers would like for their sisters.
I was a playboy.
“Mark?” I turned around, screwdriver in hand, as my brother Matthew came into the office. He grinned and I grinned back. As always, Matthew was the one person who could make me smile no matter how low I felt. Tall, mild and cheerful, Matthew was my best friend.
He was also my twin.
/> I cleared my throat, which still burned a bit from the smoke. “What’s cooking?” he asked. It was our customary greeting when there was smoke in the shop. It was also a reference to the fact that, of the two of us, Matthew was more skilled in the kitchen.
He laughed. “It smells strong,” he indicated the smoke. “Not sure I’d want to eat that.”
I grinned sourly. “Not sure anyone would want to ride it, either.”
“The engine’s leaking something,” Adam commented, earning a scathing look from me. He just shrugged. “Well, it is,” he said. “And, guys… I’d love to help but I’m sorry I need to get going.”
“What’s up?” Matthew asked. “Late for something?” he glanced at his watch. “It’s only three-thirty.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I asked the Carter yesterday,” Adam explained awkwardly. “I need to get home. My sister’s arriving today.”
“Oh! Good.” Matthew nodded. I wondered if Matthew recalled Adam’s sister. I sure did. I couldn’t forget that dance and the way that she moved was permanently etched in my brain. Hot! “Well, you should go, then.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s three-thirty.”
“I said I’d leave at four, but I need to go earlier. She’s gotten lost.” He grinned shyly and I felt a surprising flare of protectiveness. Kansas City could be rough sometimes. I didn’t like to think of her wandering around alone.
“Sure,” Matthew said easily. “If you got to go… we’ll finish up here.”
“Thanks, Matthew,” Adam sounded relieved. “I appreciate it.”
I watched as he got up, packing away his tools. We had strict rules about cleaning up every day and making sure that everything was in its proper place at the end of the day. The key to success in a repair shop, my brother said, was making sure things were tidy. And Brand’s Bike Shop was highly successful.
“Hey, Mark!” Adam called from over at the door. “You want to go out, later?”
