Kiss Me, Dancer (16 page)

Jiao nodded, giving her that look again. “He must be a nice catch.”

Casey laughed. “I’m not so sure he’s been caught or that he’s nice, but I guess I’m in for the ride at this point.” Especially after comparing Trevor’s kiss to Drew’s. And straining to make him understand why they weren’t right for each other. At least they both agreed not to let on to her family that they were no longer an item, although Parker knew. Luckily Casey’s four o’clock class gave her an excuse to cut out before dessert was fully eaten.

She didn’t want to hurt Trevor, but she sure couldn’t pretend there was anything between them. There had never really been any spark, never any of that tugging inside her that she already felt with Drew. Why had she talked herself into sticking with Trevor for eight long months?

Because someone who can’t reach your heart can never hurt you.
Which made Drew a real minefield for her. She’d just have to try and keep it to friendship and business from here on.

Casey heard the chatter and giggles of her spirited teens warming up for the jazz class in the main studio. Nine students. All girls in brightly colored leotards paired with tights or jazz pants. Casey accepted that she’d never have big classes here in the semi-rural North Fork, but prided herself on the fact that most of the students who began with her three years ago were still enrolled in her school.

“You guys look ready to rumble,” she said, striding to the front of the room. Before starting, she announced that her Cove Corps, which included two girls from this class, would be one of six dance groups competing on the
Got Moves
TV series.

They cheered and whooped. Casey shuffled through her CD collection that she used for jazz and hip-hop classes. Jiao only accompanied her for ballet and modern dance.

She slipped in a CD of Pink’s latest, turned to the class and began demonstrating the warm-up. Casey liked to keep the energy high, from the beginning shoulder rolls and pelvic isolations, through the shimmy and boogie down, to the highflying leaps and turns across the floor at the end of class.

Ninety minutes later, covered in sweat and breathing hard, she led the girls in the final cool down stretches. “Good job, ladies. And Filipa, I can see how hard you’ve worked on those barrel leaps. You’re doing them beautifully now.”

As the class dispersed Casey spoke with the mothers of the two girls in her performing group about possible rehearsal schedules. Then she ran upstairs to shower and change into jeans, sneakers and a tank tee that read:
My Time Is GO Time
.

Greenport sat way out toward the narrow end of Long Island’s North Fork. A sort of Brigadoon by the sea with a Captain Ahab flavor. It was once a whaling village, its downtown streets an impressionist’s canvas of tidy, colorful buildings. Tackle and bait shops and seafood bars next to high-end boutiques and art galleries. And friendly people strolling the docks beneath circling gulls.

While parking her car Casey heard a live band playing what seemed like a mix of swing and pop. She remembered Greenport had dancing here in Mitchell Park during the summer months. But she doubted that was what Drew had in mind.

Inhaling a fresh breeze right off the Peconic Bay, she walked to the airy roundhouse building that enclosed Greenport’s famous carousel from the 1920’s. There he was on his little yellow horsey. “I don’t believe it,” she muttered to herself.

She bought a ticket and stepped onto the platform, taking the black horse next to Drew’s. “Giddyup.”

He gave her a fast once-over. “You make a helluva cowgirl.”

“Thanks, Pardner.”

“I always liked carousels. Don’t tell anyone. Spoil my image.”

“Our secret.”

Round and round they went at a big one mile per hour, pipe organ music tooting out an Americana classic. Drew just sat there grinning and nodding. Was this the Twilight Zone? At least it served to dwarf the nervousness she’d had about facing Drew after last night.

Mercifully, the bell rang and the carousel slowed to a halt. With one swift and graceful move Drew dismounted and appeared at her horse, ready to help her.

Casey hopped off on her own. “Thanks, but I’m not lame.”

“Don’t start.”

“Guess I’m just revved for our B-ball showdown. Wearing my competition sneaks.”

“No B-ball tonight.”

“Then why the sneakers?”

“Don’t want you slipping into the water.” He took her hand and started walking through the park toward the docks.

His touch sent a wave of shimmering fire through Casey. She tried to ignore it. “We’re going fishing?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ooh. I love this song.” The band played “Moon River.” Before giving it a thought, Casey pulled on Drew’s hand, dragging him into the crowd of locals dancing near the bandstand. He put his arms around her waist, she slid hers around his neck, and they swayed to the music together. She lost herself in the nostalgic tune, singing the words softly.

Casey wasn’t sure at what point she realized she wasn’t supposed to let herself rest her head on his shoulder or press her breasts against his solid chest. But it felt so good. And Mr. “Boys Don’t Dance” easily moved in sync with her. In fact, they seemed to fit together perfectly.

When the song ended, Drew continued to hold her close. Casey knew she should pull away, but a part of her rebelled like a child ready to throw a tantrum, refusing to let go of him.

As early as high school Casey had begun learning that she couldn’t have what she wanted. And the years of screw-ups and disappointments that followed only served to hammer it into her head. It seemed like everything she tried for either failed or turned out to be a cruel joke like her supposed relationship with Jeff.

When it came to finding the right man, she’d already fallen into a resigned acceptance that it would never happen. As to careers, the dance academy had been a final effort to prove to herself that people who chase rainbows could actually succeed. She remembered praying to her dad’s memory when she’d opened her school, asking for him to watch over her, maybe even help her in some way. And she knew that if it failed, something inside her would break.

She would become one of those people who no longer believed in happy endings.

Casey looked up at Drew, suddenly realizing her need for him wasn’t just about her sexual attraction to him or his plan to save her studio. Drew was the kind of guy who fought for what he wanted. And his insistence on buying a building to house her dance academy told Casey he believed her dream was worth fighting for. He believed in
her
.

“What?” he said, smiling down at Casey, his hand stroking her back.

“So, why did you ask me to meet you here in Greenport?”

“I want to take you for a boat ride.”

“Tonight?”

He nodded. “I’m docked in a slip right here at the park’s marina.” He bowed his head to her ear. “And I’ve got some great CD’s if you want more music.”

With his hand on her back, Drew led Casey to the marina.

“Which boat is yours?”

“That fifty-foot Ferretti. I call her
Pretty Baby
.”

“But…that looks like a yacht.”

“It is. A small one. And it’s fast. Moves great in the water.”

Casey had lived near the Sound her whole life, but the people she knew owned fishing boats or speedboats or modest sailboats. The only time she’d been on a yacht was with Jeff.

“You’re giving me one of those assessing looks again,” Drew said.

“Was I?”
He is not Jeff. He is not anything like him
.

And she kept telling herself that until she got completely caught up by the hum and swoosh of
Pretty Baby
traveling into Gardiner’s Bay and out into the Atlantic, the boat’s lights shimmering on the water, the exhilarating sea air in her face.

They sat up on the fly bridge with nothing but the inky sky full of stars overhead. Casey relaxed next to Drew on the wide seat behind the controls.

He kept glancing at her. “Like it?”

“Mmm. It’s wonderful.”

After a while the cold air made her shiver. Drew noticed and rubbed his hand over her arm. “Have you eaten?”

“Had a big lunch.”
One I’d like to forget
.

“But it’s past dinner already. And I’ve seen the way you wolf down food. You’re not one of those women who likes to starve herself.”

“I’d be insulted by your rude description of my eating habits if it weren’t so embarrassingly accurate. Truth is, if I were in a dance company I’d have to lose some pounds.”

“You’re kidding. You have the most perfect body I’ve ever seen.”

She gaped at him. Although other men had sometimes flattered her in the past she could never quite believe them. Casey had never regarded herself as a beauty. Beneath the surface ran a silent stream of self-doubt that constantly evoked that feeling of “who me?” whenever fielding compliments.

“Thanks. You’re not too bad in that department either,” she mumbled. But her mind’s high-speed processor went to work trying desperately to compute the data because with Drew it actually meant something to her. She thought of all those supermodel beauties he dated and couldn’t help but wonder if this was merely part of the Drew Byrne womanizer spiel. But then he brushed a tender kiss on her cheek and made her feel like a blushing teen.

When it looked like they were headed back to the coastline an odd disappointment filled Casey. She loved being out here alone with Drew. Their conversations — and arguments — were always stimulating, but neither of them had said a word in the last fifteen or twenty minutes. They just shared the silence of this beautiful night. And it felt every bit as complete. And magical.

Drew did not go back yet to the marina. He pulled the boat into a cove-like area and dropped anchor.

“Let’s go inside where you’ll be warmer. I’ve got some food.”

She followed him down to the main deck. He stopped at the half-sized refrigerator in the kitchen area and took out a bottle of wine, a North Fork chardonnay. Plus a tray of tea sandwiches.

“Don’t tell me you made those,” Casey said, snatching one that turned out to be a delicious salmon salad.

“Becky. My cook at home.” He handed her cloth napkins and two wine glasses.

Casey thought
Pretty Baby’s
interior looked better than her living room. Long, sleek lounge sofas, a hardwood dining table, even a desk in one corner. They noshed and drank, the sea air intoxicating her as much as the wine. Drew sat close, his shoulder and thigh pressing against hers, the warmth and weight of him making her pulse do somersaults.

Drew clinked his glass to Casey’s. “A toast to the studio we’re going to find.” He moved his face closer. “And how hot you looked riding the carousel.”

Casey smiled and pulled away, warring inside between a desire to climb all over Drew ripping his clothes off and the voice in her head that knew she should tell him this had to be a platonic relationship. All business from here on.

She avoided answering to either side by gulping more wine and moving to a safer subject. “Ever hear of that TV show
Got Moves
?”

“Sure. Even saw it a couple times. With Josh.”

“Well, he’s going to be on it. Remember that dance he did at the bazaar with my student group? I sent in an audition CD, and we made the cut.”

His face lit up. “That’s incredible. Let’s go out to dinner tomorrow to celebrate.”

“Better not. I’m superstitious. Wouldn’t want to celebrate before we even begin. Something could happen where it all falls through. Or more likely, we get booted out of the season competition in the first round.”

“We’ll wait then.” He sounded disappointed. “But I still think getting on the show at all deserves something special. I’ll bet there are hundreds of groups trying for it.”

“Probably.”

“Okay, we’ll wait till it’s over. But win, lose or draw, we’ve still got a date for a celebration dinner. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” She looked down, feeling suddenly shy.

“What it is, Casey?”

She sipped her wine. “Oh, I know what I do is just kind of silly to most people.”

“Not to the kids. It means everything to Josh. I was astonished at what you had him doing. And the whole group looked really clean and professional.”

“They’re my most talented students. And they work hard.”

“But you give them something to work for. And show them how. Not everybody can do that. I know that first day we met I was really obnoxious, but the truth is I admire what you do.” He refilled her glass. “To Casey, an inspiration.”

She smiled at Drew, blinking back tears. This was the kind of praise the little girl inside had hoped to get from her mother this afternoon. But her mother had made it so clear how insignificant Casey’s efforts were next to Jenna’s that she hadn’t even bothered to tell her.

Picking up on her sad thoughts, Drew asked, “What’s wrong?”

Wow, could he ever tune in to her. “Family stuff. You don’t want to hear it.”

He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “Yes, I do. I already told you stuff about my dad.”

Casey began to recount the difficult visit to her mom’s this afternoon. She hadn’t met too many males who were good listeners. And she sure as heck wouldn’t have expected it of the arrogant, self-centered man who’d barged into her dance studio. But Drew gave her such focused attention she found herself opening up about her father dying, her mother’s drinking problem, Jenna’s success, and her own struggles to figure out where she could possibly fit in this crazy world.

When she paused, he surprised her by saying, “I envy you.”

“What?”

“My path was cut out for me from the time I was born. I suppose I could’ve rebelled against my dad and his plan for me to run the family business. But I’d been indoctrinated at such an early age that it would’ve required having a different goal I wanted so badly I was willing to reject the very foundations of my life.”

“Do you like running your business?”

He poured more wine. “I like winning. Whether or not I like the process is something I never took the time to think about. That’s one reason you’re so refreshing to me, Casey. You don’t just go through the motions of your life. You’re right there, present and alive to it all.”