Last Dance (COBRA Securities Book 14)

by Velvet Vaughn

  Marcella DeBois breezed into the room, her neon-green jogging suit blinding in its intensity. “Hello, dancers,” she called out. “Limber up those muscles and hydrate. We start in five minutes.”

  Cassidy returned to where Emma was sitting. “Could you please hand me the shoes on the shelf behind you?”

  “Sure.” Emma reached back to grab them. “Here you go—oh!”

  Cassidy jumped to the side as a projectile came flying at her. She glanced at Emma, who was staring at the heel in her hand.

  Emma looked up. “I’m so sorry, Cassidy. I didn’t mean to break them.”

  Stanislov picked up the errant shoe and examined it before handing it to Cassidy. “You didn’t break it, Emma. It looks like someone tampered with them.”

  Cassidy gasped and flipped the shoe over. There were definite marks that looked as if someone had sawed through the heel. They were her go-to shoes. She’d had them for years. She had other pairs, but these were her favorite.

  At the sound of chuckling, she turned to see Irina grinning wickedly at her before bending down to slip her own shoes on. If the woman had stooped to tampering with her footwear, she’d take that ridiculous scarf she always wore and strangle her with it.

  “Did you do that, Irina?” Rowan asked, his fists planted on his hips. “Did you destroy Cassidy’s shoes?”

  Irina widened her eyes in mock innocence and lifted her arms, palms up. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I know nothing about it.” She sniffed. “Perhaps the problem is that they were not properly maintained?”

  Rowan took a menacing step forward but Cassidy grabbed his arm. “Don’t, Rowan. She’s not worth it.”

  “Oh, but it would feel so damn good,” he muttered.

  She smiled at him and patted his back. Spinning around, she grabbed her bag and stuffed the shoes inside, not giving Irina the satisfaction of knowing how upset she was that her favorite shoes were destroyed. She withdrew a linen bag holding her backup pair and carefully examined them before slipping them on.

  “Line up, everyone,” Marcella called out. “It’s time to dance like everyone’s watching.”

  Richie cleared his throat and pointed to his camera. He got all that on film, too. It would be a miracle if Irina returned next season.

  Chapter 4

  If someone had told Mason a week ago that he’d know the difference between a foxtrot and a salsa, a chassé or a jeté, he’d have told them no effing way. He would’ve said a samba roll was something you picked up at the bakery, not a move where the dancers rotated their upper bodies in a circular motion while going through a six-point turn.

  Surprisingly—especially to himself—he’d enjoyed the last few days watching Harlow practice with Marcus to perfect their opening routine, a lively cha-cha to the tune of Smooth by Santana featuring Rob Thomas. Harlow had been worried coming in, but Mason knew she had nothing to fear. She was a natural. Marcus had commented many times that she was the best student he’d been partnered with on the show. The smile that had broken across Harlow’s face at the comment made Mason grudgingly respect the man.

  He wondered how Cassidy was faring with her partner. He’d caught the gossip that she was paired with Trey Holiday. Mason had no idea who that was, so he’d Googled him. He’d starred in some Disney show, with the description: “Trey Chic is about a boy who grows up in his single mother’s trendy boutique. Mischief ensues.” Sounded ridiculous to Mason, but what did he know? He thought dancing was a few weeks ago.

  Marcus wasn’t happy with Cassidy’s partner, complaining that Trey had a dance background. He was also pissed that Trey had been partnered with Cassidy. He whined that she was always paired with the best dancers, even suggested that she was having an affair with the executive producer, Russell Ingram, to get ahead. Mason didn’t put any stock into the man’s ranting. He didn’t know Cassidy at all, but she didn’t strike him as manipulative or underhanded.

  He’d hoped to run into her sometime during the week, but there’d been no sign of her. He thought about sneaking into her practice room again, but then she really would think he was a creepy stalker. She might be right. The urge to see her again was overwhelming.

  He entered the hotel suite behind Sawyer and Harlow and closed the door. The building was a couple of blocks from the practice facility and auditorium. It was close enough to walk but for safety purposes, they drove an SUV back and forth each day. Their room was on the twentieth floor with a panoramic view of downtown Los Angeles.

  Although he’d complained about having to watch dancing for days on end, it was a pretty sweet gig. He was really enjoying it. He never realized there were so many different dances and moves and terms. And as much as he complained about Marcus—mostly to himself—the man was patient and kind with Harlow. He never raised his voice or berated her when she made a mistake. Bonus points in his favor.

  They’d been sampling various eating establishments each night—expense accounts were wonderful things—and exploring all LA had to offer, including glorious beaches. And good Lord, the women! Everywhere you looked, stunning females. Whether they were here to become actresses or movie stars or just partaking in the beach scene, the female population was awe-inspiring. The Beach Boys got it right when they talked about California Girls. Overall, it was too touristy and crowded for Mason’s liking long-term, and he preferred his women less plastic, but it was a nice place to spend a few weeks on the company’s dime.

  As was the routine when they returned home from dinner, Harlow practiced her dance steps, with Sawyer proving to be a decent partner. Mason had been impressed. The man had mad skills. When he started to point this out, Sawyer warned him to, quote, “shut his pie hole” and swore him to secrecy. Apparently, he’d been forced to take ballroom lessons growing up, much to his disgust. But when your parents were members of the New York social elite, it was a part of life.

  Mason didn’t begrudge him that life at all. He came from a middle-class background, with parents who worked hard to make sure Mason and his younger sister Ashley had everything they wanted. They didn’t live in a multi-million-dollar house with a pool and maid, or drive a Rolls Royce, but they didn’t go without, either. They took vacations each year to Disney World or a National Park, and he’d had a car to drive when he turned sixteen. It was a sweet ride, an older Monte Carlo that had been meticulously maintained. He smiled fondly, recalling the many young ladies he’d coaxed into the spacious back seat. His parents were now retired and living in a condo in South Carolina. His sister was married to a doctor and about to pop out her second baby, which reminded him to take time off to visit. He couldn’t wait to meet his new niece or nephew.

  “Your turn, Mason. I’m going to teach you a few moves.”

  He spun around to see Harlow crooking a finger at him and grinning while Sawyer smirked, his arms crossed over his chest as if to warn Mason not to upset his woman. Too damn bad.

  “I don’t dance.”

  Harlow grabbed his hand and pulled him into the open space in the middle of the room. “No, you used to not dance. You do now. Here.” She maneuvered his arms in the correct position and then grabbed his hands. He sent a pleading look to Sawyer but his former friend just continued to smirk.

  Mason narrowed his eyes. “I’m sending a mass email to the entire staff, twinkle toes. Your secret will be out.”

  Sawyer’s sly smile got bigger and he whipped out his phone, holding it up in preparation to video Mason’s humiliation.

  “Hey—”

  “Sawyer, put it away and quit tormenting Mason. I’m teaching him a skill that will impress the ladies.”

  Hum, he hadn’t thought of it that way. He wondered if it would impress Cassidy and then wondered why he cared.

  Sawyer grumbled but slid his phone in his pocket. Harlow proceeded to put him through a grueling workout. He started out looking like a cross between a bumbling giant and newborn foal, unsteady on his legs. By the end of the session, he was moving his feet in a close res
emblance to dancing.

  Maybe he wouldn’t totally embarrass himself if he ever had the opportunity to hold Cassidy Swain in his arms and trip the light fantastic.

  #

  After four days of practice with an extremely-talented partner, Cassidy was riding the euphoric high of outstanding expectations for the coming season. Her pace was brisk and energetic as she navigated her usual running path. Trey picked up the choreography so easily, it was like working with another professional. If he did have trouble with a step sequence, he practiced it until he nailed it. His focus was a thing of beauty. As was his dazzling smile, which he flashed often. America would fall in love with him, especially the younger viewers, and they tended to be the ones that voted often.

  If she could coach him to the finale, and they won, she’d win the back-to-back bonus that had never been awarded. She could use the money to help get her academy up and running. The award was intended as an incentive to the pros to do their best with their partners. Several people had come close, including Glen Benson, the legendary dancer who won six times in his seventeen-season career, but it’d never been awarded. She hoped to be the first.

  She waved at the elderly woman who walked her tiny black poodle every morning at the same time. The dog was adorable with pink bows in her ears, pink polish on her nails, and a bouncing gait that announced she was queen of the world and she knew it.

  Cassidy glanced down at her watch. Colin would be arriving soon. She picked up her pace, knowing he’d be early. They shared the same time fetish.

  Colin Rafferty was her former ballroom dancing partner. They’d been together from the time they were pre-teen competitors taking the cut-throat circuit by storm. She’d been ten to Colin’s twelve. They won many of their competitions and moved swiftly up the ranks. They even competed internationally, to great success. They were known as C and C to the other competitors, judges and social media. Now Colin partnered with Tilda Culver, a sweet blond who, by all accounts, adored him. They danced well together but hadn’t achieved the level of performance or success that she and Colin enjoyed for many years. Colin and Tilda should be on the circuit right now, but Colin injured his knee and had to sit out the rest of the competitive season.

  She didn’t keep up with the competitive dance news anymore, but her mom occasionally emailed her results. Colin and Tilda usually finished towards the top but were never the champs. Then her mom called to tell her about his injury. She wasn’t sure what had happened, just that he would have to sit out the rest of the season. Cassidy hoped it wasn’t serious.

  She and Colin had drifted apart in the five years since their partnership ended, but once she heard about his injury, she called him. It’d been a couple of years since they talked, but she knew not being able to compete would be devastating to him. Her always-cheerful former partner and friend sounded down. When he told her it was his knee, she knew that meant months of rehabilitation. He’d have work to do if he wanted to get out on the floor again. She knew Colin had always wanted to visit the set, but he’d been too busy training and travelling before. Hoping to erase some of the sadness from his voice, she’d invited him to the opening night of the broadcast. She had to get it approved by the producers, but it hadn’t been a problem, especially since Colin was known to several of the professional dancers on the show from their competition days.

  She slowed her pace to warm down as she approached her building. People in colorful bathing suits and wraps were flocking to the beach to catch some early morning rays. A car alarm sounded from somewhere close, disturbing the peaceful serenity of the crashing waves. She had to dodge an overzealous toddler in a floppy white hat and pink striped bathing suit, a plastic shovel in one hand and a bright green bucket in the other. Her mother rushed after her and apologized to Cassidy. She smiled as the little girl plopped down on the sand and started digging.

  As she climbed the concrete steps leading to her second-floor apartment, she noticed someone sitting outside her door. She jogged the rest of the way up. “Colin!”

  He pushed to his feet and held out his arms. “I’d come to you, Cassidy, but…” He gestured to the ginormous brace encircling his left knee.

  Poor Colin. All he’d ever wanted to do was dance. This injury would set him back months, if not longer. “I’d hug you but I’m all sweaty.”

  “I don’t care.” He reached out and tugged her into his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Tears pricked her eyes. He’d been her best friend for most of her life. His arms around her were comforting and his scent familiar. She truly had missed him.

  “Thanks for inviting me here for a few days. I can’t wait to see behind the scenes of my favorite show.”

  Chapter 5

  Mason watched from the shadows as Cassidy practiced a routine on the main stage. The auditorium where the show was taped was open and expansive, featuring a raised stage with four steps leading down to the dance floor surrounded by the judges’ table and audience seats, and two levels of balconies in a horseshoe design that overlooked the floor. Off to one side and out of view of the television audience was the control room, where Russell Ingram and his crew worked their magic to produce the live show each week. On the other side was an area for the sound technicians and live musicians to provide music for the dances. A large area backstage held a wide array of props that would be wheeled in for each performance. There were so many people running around, some issuing orders, others talking on cellphones, it was a wonder the show came together so fluidly each week.

  From the information he gathered grilling technicians and production assistants, Cassidy was performing a solo to kick off the season. As the returning champion, she would be featured on the first episode. All the pros would perform a group number later in the show, but this was Cassidy’s time to shine. And, damn, she was dazzling. Her leaps were effortless. Her spins on point. Every move was graceful and sleek. She was wearing another gauzy top and skirt, with fitted shorts underneath. The outfit highlighted her tone, athletic body to perfection.

  Despite being in the same building the past few days, their paths hadn’t crossed again since he walked into her practice room that first morning. He wondered if standing here watching her intently could be considered stalking, but he truly didn’t care. He was desperate to see her. Now here she was, in her element, looking stunning.

  “Okay, everyone, let’s block cameras,” the director announced. “We need to get lighting in place. Cassidy, you’re going to start here on the X.” He pointed to a spot on the floor. “We’ll turn the lights off and we’ll bring you on stage under the cloak of darkness. Then we’ll hit you with a spotlight and the music will start. Okay, let’s get cameras in position, people. Cass, I’ll signal you when we’re ready.”

  Mason’s eyes tracked her movements as she stretched her arms and did a few hops to keep her muscles limber. Her blond ponytail bobbed with the movements. On stage, cameras were wheeled to spots while the assistant producers shouted instructions. It was controlled chaos. Finally, they were ready for a preliminary test run. The official dress rehearsal would be tomorrow, where the couples would perform their routines in full costume. The first episode of the new season would premiere the next night.

  The director queued Cassidy and she jogged over to the spot on the floor he indicated earlier, her body flowing into a position. The lights snapped off, plunging the room into total darkness. Mason’s eyes adjusted quickly and he spotted her out on the floor. Then a lone spotlight from one end of the floor lit her up like a shining star. She positively glowed. Before the music started, a movement caught his eye and he glanced up.

  “Watch out!”

  He lunged for her, wrapping his arms around her and jerking her off her feet. Again.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  She clawed at his arm but the loud explosion of metal crashing to the floor and glass shattering cut off her rant. She stilled in his arms and he placed her back on the ground.
She slowly turned to the sound. A look of horror crossed her face as she realized the heavy light landed exactly where she’d been standing mere seconds ago.

  #

  Cassidy stared at the spot where she’d just stood, the reality of what had almost happened hitting her full force. She started to shake.

  “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

  It was then she realized she was still secure in a pair of strong arms. Arms that had saved her from a crushed skull. Or worse. Swiveling her head, she peered into a set of laser blue eyes and gasped. “Mason?” He’d saved her again from certain death. “Are you real or my guardian angel?”

  One corner of his mouth curved and the dimple appeared. She wouldn’t doubt it if he was a figment of her imagination. She’d never seen a more handsome man.

  “Definitely real and thankfully in the right place at the right time—twice now.” He motioned one of the producers over. “I saw a person running along the catwalk as the light fell. Can you send someone to look for them?”

  “On it,” she said, barking orders into a walkie-talkie.

  “Cassidy!” Russell Ingram came rushing over, followed by several of the support staff. “Are you okay? My God, that could’ve killed you.”

  She managed a nod. “Just a little shaky. Mason saved me.”

  “Mr. Rossi, I can’t thank you enough,” the executive director said, reaching out to shake his hand. That meant he had to let go of her and she mourned the loss of contact. Stiffing her spine, she pulled completely away and smoothed her skirt with trembling hands.

  Mason was quickly swallowed up by a crowd of admirers. She heard the words “Superman”, “The Flash” and “Hero” bantered about, and she didn’t disagree with any of them. How he’d managed to whisk her away in the nick of time was superhuman. What if he hadn’t been there? She shuddered again and made her way to the steps leading up to the top stage before plopping down. The crew had wheeled in a large garbage bin and were preparing to clean up the mess of twisted metal and shards of glass. What were the odds that the light above her would come crashing to the ground at the exact moment she was standing directly beneath it? Mason had said he saw someone running away. Could it have been sabotage?