Read The Dance Online

Authors: Alison G. Bailey

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Sagas, #Women's Fiction, #Romance

The Dance (17 page)

Sophie looked at me blinking back her own tears and said, “I’m so sorry you’re hurting but I get where you’re coming from. Just know I’m here when you’re ready.”

I nodded my thanks.

As the night continued we sat sipping more Bailey’s than coffee while Sophie told me about her latest business trip adventure. It felt good to hear what was going on in her life and how happy she was in her career. Sophie may not have had a special man whom she wanted to have a future with but she knew who she was and was confident in her abilities. I envied that.

 

 

Mid-April soon became mid-May, closely followed by mid-June, July and August. Eight months of living like strangers had passed. I knew something had to give and it had to be me. Will seemed perfectly content with the arrangement. His standing as a good husband and son were still strong in the community and in the eyes of his parents. Plus, he got to spend time screwing his cartoon cunt in the Virtual Life world whenever he wanted to. Not to mention other screen skanks.

With Sophie’s encouragement I decided to start looking for a job. I needed to gauge where I was in the market in terms of any usable skill set. I mean, I had an MBA from a respected university. Maybe there was more opportunity out there than I thought.

“So, Mrs. Forsyth, your resume is a bit . . . thin.” Mr. Hawkins pointed out.

The pudgy and balding older man sitting behind the desk eyed me up and down. The job was for an administrative assistant at Hawkins Insurance. Not the most exciting job out there but my life had enough excitement in it.

I fidgeted with the strap of my purse, hoping Mr. Hawkins couldn’t see over his desk. “Yes, Sir, I realize that. But I’m a quick learner and my computer skills are good.”

“I really need someone with more experience or any experience for that matter.” He chuckled condescendingly.

 

 

“It says here . . .” She pointed to the spot on my resume with her dark blue nail. “. . . That you graduated two years ago from Newberry. Whatcha been doin’?”

My gaze bobbed from her neon pink lips to her yellow hair that was brighter than the sun.

“I got married.”

“Uh-huh.”

This chick couldn’t have been more than nineteen years old and she was already a manager at the cellphone store.

“So were you like taking care of your kid or something for two years?” Her pitch shot sky high on the last two words.

I glanced down as my heart felt a twinge. “No, I wasn’t taking care of my child.”

She picked up my resume with the tip of her shiny nails and deposited it into the drawer next to her. “I’ll let you know if anything opens up that matches your particular skills.”

“The ad said you were looking for a sales associate. I have an MBA. I can talk cellphones with people.”

“Yeah, we prefer our associates to have some background in sales not basketball. But I’ll keep your resume for future reference.” She patted the side of the drawer.

 

 

“I just need someone to give me a chance.”

“It’s probably not going to be us, though.” Susan, the manager, gave me an apologetic smile.

I thought shifting gears toward something I loved would give me better luck at finding a job. So, I applied at one of Charleston’s most popular downtown restaurants, Tommy Condon’s.

“I’m sorry, Bryson. It’s just the restaurant is so fast-paced that we really need wait staff that know their stuff. Once you get some experience under your belt, please come back and reapply.”

At least she was the nicest one to tell me I sucked.

 

 

Three days and three ‘no thanks’ later, I wasn’t exactly feeling top notch about my job prospects. I knew it would be hard getting hired since I had no experience. But how the hell was I going to get any if no one wanted to give me the opportunity? After the last no thank you, I decided to head home.

I still had a couple of hours before the threat of Will being here was a problem. I never knew when he’d come strolling in. Some nights he was home at his usual time. But there had been a few nights I heard the front door open and close around midnight. Since the August heat and my week were unbearable, I decided to jump into the pool and a glass of wine.

After changing into my orange bikini, I wrapped a fluffy towel around my body and headed downstairs. I made a pit stop in the kitchen to grab the wine and went out to the backyard. Before plunging into the wine I decided to do a few laps around the pool to cool off. I dropped the towel on the lounge chair and dove in. My skin felt immediate relief from the scorching sun. It was quiet and peaceful under water. If I didn’t have to breathe, I’d stay submerged forever. As the water splashed around me, I tried to clear my head of the past three days, the past year, and all the rejection.

Three laps around had tired me out and built up a mighty thirst. I swam up to the edge of the pool where I’d placed the wine glass and bottle. My eyes squinted from the bright afternoon sun as I lifted my face and wiped the water away. Half blinded, I reached for the bottle of High Tide wine from the local Deep Water Vineyard and poured a full glass. The light-bodied red Muscadine flavor tickled the back of my throat as it made its way down. I held the glass between my hands, closed my eyes, and leaned my head back against the pool, soaking in the warm sun.

Glass number one went down pretty quick. Glass number two was almost gone when I realized I probably needed to slow down. I just wanted to get a buzz as quickly as possible and forget how unwanted and lonely I felt. It wasn’t until I tried to get out of the pool that I realized how buzzed I’d gotten. I set my glass down, grabbed the rail, and pulled myself up the steps. My body swayed from side-to-side as I headed toward the lounge chair where I’d tossed my towel. As I tried to wrap the towel around me, I lost my balance, stumbling back against a hard surface. I looked down to see two tan muscular arms holding the towel around my body.

“You okay?” The deep voice rumbled in my ear.

I attempted to push off but he didn’t let me.

Clearing my throat, I said, “I’m fine. You can let go.”

His arms loosened, allowing me to take a step away. When I turned around, my slightly blurry gaze met his dark brown eyes. Will must have had the same idea I had, to end a hot day with a cool swim. He was in his navy and light blue long board shorts, his bare chest already glistening under the sun. My gaze traveled over his broad shoulders, down the planes of his cut chest, to his toned abs. It had been more than eight months since I’d seen his body or anybody’s body for that matter. He must have been hitting the gym even more because the indentions were deeper and the ripples were rip-plin’. His hair was cut super short for the summer and a five o’clock shadow was working his chiseled jawline. Will was a rat bastard but a sexy rat bastard.

Swallowing hard, I looked back up and was met by dark brown eyes roaming over my body.

I pulled the towel tighter around my body and said, “You’re home early.”

“I told my crew to knock off since its Friday and hot as hell.”

I blinked a few times trying to clear the fuzz from my brain.

Whipping my head around, I searched for my wine. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“Don’t leave on my account.”

“It’s okay. I was done.”

Found my wine!

I picked up the bottle, clutching it and the towel close to my chest.

“I always liked that orange bikini.”

Between the wine, the heat, and the fact that I’d not had a compliment in forever, his words caused a slight tingle in my stomach.

I took a step toward the house but Will shifted, forcing me to stop.

“Thanks,” I said, not making eye contact.

This was the closest I’d been to Will in months. He smelled great . . . sweet like black licorice. I needed to remove myself from this situation. I was too buzzed, feeling lonely, and had a sudden craving for candy.

“You’re hot.” His voice was low and husky.

“Yeah . . . Well, I’ve been out here for a while.”

A throaty chuckle hit my ears, followed by the touch of his fingertips grazing the shell of my left ear. In my foggy head I turned away but in reality I didn’t move. I held on to the neck of the wine bottle as if my life depended on it. The back of his hand slid down my neck until it reached the strap of my swimsuit.

“Will, don’t.”

He leaned down and whispered, “I miss you, Bry.”

My eyes squeezed shut as I summoned the memories of all the pain this man had inflicted on me.

The tips of his fingers ran over my strap. “I miss the way you feel underneath me.”

I bit down hard on my bottom lip but still didn’t move. My head was screaming at me to run and not stop until I was behind the door of my own bedroom. But my heart and body weren’t listening. It felt too good to have a strong rough hand glide over my skin and a deep voice in my ear.

“I miss being inside of you, Bry.”

Will’s fingers continued their trek along my jawline until they found my chin. My eyes opened as he tilted my head back. Slowly he lowered his lips toward mine and hovered, waiting for me to give him permission. Goosebumps pricked at my skin as each pulse point throbbed. It had been so long since I’d felt what it was like to be wanted . . . desired . . . and I missed it.

Wine mixed with licorice filled the air around us as I parted my lips. Once Will got the signal he didn’t waste time. His hands cupped my face as his lips and tongue got right to work devouring my mouth. At some point both the bottle and towel I was holding made it to the ground, freeing my hands to wrap around Will’s neck. My body was on fire but this time it didn’t have anything to do with the Charleston summer.

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