Waiting for You (RightMatch.com Trilogy) (4 page)

After taking a bite of the eggs, she got a faraway look in her eyes. “I danced with the American Ballet in New York.”

Though he wasn’t into cultural stuff, his daughters were, and Kara’s dream was to join a New York company when she grew up. “What’s your last name?”

“Devlin. I’m Dana Devlin.”

“I’ll bet my daughter knows of you. I’ll ask her. Were you a solo dancer, a headliner?”

“Yes.” As they ate, she described her career, her success, which was stellar, and told him about her favorite performances. Throughout the recitation, she smiled at the memories. But when they finished their meal, the joy drained from her face. Setting down her fork, she glanced off to the side and then back at him. “I have something to tell you Joey, which might affect whether or not you want to see me again.”

“I can’t imagine what could change my mind. I’m dying to have some real dates with you.”

“No, you probably can’t imagine what I have to say because I’ve kept information from you when we emailed.”

“We haven’t shared everything about our lives, Dana. There’s a lot I haven’t told you, too.” Mainly about his father. “It’s okay. It’ll be fun getting to know each other better in person.”

“This won’t be fun, but here goes. I said I was famous, but only till I was twenty-eight.”

“That’s pretty young to quit dancing.” He knew from Kara.

“You’re right. Prima ballerinas usually perform into their thirties.”

“What happened?”

“I had an accident.”

Now
that
she’d never mentioned online. And her secrecy was confusing because he’d told her about his football injury derailing his dreams, yet she’d never even hinted that something similar had happened to her. Suddenly Joe got a bad feeling, a hunch, like the ones he often had on duty as a cop. Some of his enthusiasm about meeting Dana dwindled. Whatever she was going to tell him, it definitely wasn’t good.

o0o

Dana’s heart beat so fast, she could barely get the words out. She knew, as she and Joe talked more and more online, that Joe’s physicality, his athletic prowess, might cause him to reject her. As a matter of fact, he’d emphasized his interest in sports and fitness in his profile, and that was one of the reasons she’d refused to meet him before now. However, he was also sensitive, kind and tried to do what was right, so she’d risked pursuing him.

Pointing to the wall adjacent to them, she said, “That wheelchair over there?” He tracked her gaze. “It’s mine, Joe. I’ve been confined to it for twelve years.”

His jaw dropped. His eyes widened. First, they showed shock, then a deep, deep sadness. But there was no pity in them, thank God. Or worse, revulsion—a not uncommon response of able-bodied people.

He was speechless for a few moments. Finally, he reached out and covered her hand with his. “I’m so sorry, Dana.”

His immediate response quelled some of the anxiety inside her. “I knew you would be. I didn’t tell you before because I felt as if I should do this in person.”

He squeezed her fingers. “I have a million questions.”

“You probably want to know how my injury happened.”

“For starters.” She liked that he didn’t look away. As incredible as it had seemed to her at first, some people couldn’t make eye contact with those in a wheelchair. To the disabled, their reaction was dismissive and hurtful, just like their use of the term invalid, in-valid.

“I’d just finished the most successful performance of my career.” Talking about the milestone now made her happy, as it had with Ruth a few nights ago. There’d been a time she’d been unable to even think about her career without crying. She’d made progress in that area of her life and she vowed to make more.

“Why was that performance the most successful?”

She explained about the
fourettés
, picturing strong legs that could do incredible feats. She rubbed her thigh beneath the table. “I executed them perfectly and got a standing ovation for over three minutes.”

He smiled encouragingly.

“I was the last to leave the wings.” Dana heard the hoarseness in her voice and cleared her throat. “Unbeknownst to me, the grips had started taking down the set because we were on tour when this happened, going to several cities a month. That night, a fan came backstage. She told me she was a big admirer of mine and had watched all the video releases of my ballets. She confessed they got her through her husband’s untimely death and she wanted to thank me.”

Dana had felt like she’d been given credit for a very good deed, one she hadn’t even known she’d done.

“I was about to walk out with her when a girder came crashing down from above. I had seconds of warning and lurched forward, knocking the woman aside, but the beam caught my legs. The pain was so intense, I passed out and I don’t remember anything else before I woke up in the hospital.”

“You saved that woman’s life, Dana. Or her health, anyway.”

“That’s what she thought. And my friends in the dance troupe agreed. But my actions weren’t so cut and dried. I really was trying to get out of the way myself. In any case, she was spared.”

His brow furrowed. “I think she was at fault. If she hadn’t gone backstage nothing would have happened to you.”

“Bad things happen, Joe, and sometimes nobody’s to blame. If the grips hadn’t thought I was gone, if I’d left sooner… Those are counterproductive thoughts.”

“I guess.” He gave her a small smile. It seemed forced, but this was a lot to take in.

And for her, it was a lot to tell. She’d talked about the accident in rehab, then later in private counseling, but not to anybody else other than Ruth. And in the last few years, she’d put the specific course of events out of her mind. But Dana had known if she started dating, she’d have to relive the whole incident. And as she’d suspected, remembering caused the deep and slicing pain buried in her to resurface. Her heart was heavy with it.

“Dana, are you all right? You seem…far away.”

“Sorry. Any other questions?”

“What’s the exact nature of your injury?”

“It’s called a crush injury, where the nerves are dead from the knees down. I’ll never walk again, Joe.”

“Are you sure about that? It’s not a spinal-cord injury, is it?”

If it had been, she’d have no control of her bladder and wouldn’t be sexually functional, but from his job, Joe would have had some medical training and probably knew that. “No, thank God. When I was in rehab, I met paraplegics. They were so much worse off than me.”

A flicker of pain flashed in his eyes. “But, Dana, the accident happened twelve years ago. There might be new treatments, medication, some advancements in all that time.”

“I get regular checkups to make sure my physical therapy and massages keep my muscles from atrophying.” Despite all that, her calves and feet were withered, something else that had been hard to accept. Even now she hated looking at them. “No miracles on the horizon.”

He didn’t respond.

Dana felt her throat get tight. His questions indicated he thought her situation could change. She wondered if their dating was dependent on that. “Let’s be clear, Joe. I’ll never be able to walk again.”

“And I’m incredibly sad about that.”

At least he didn’t argue for her to check out experimental cures. Her situation would remain as it was, and now, with her confession, the ball was in his court. She’d told him what had happened, her current physical condition, and the decision to date her was his. Though she was scared about pursing a relationship with him, she wanted to, even more now that she’d met him. In person, his appreciative glances made her aware of her femininity, her sexuality, which she’d suppressed for a very long time.

“That’s enough for today, don’t you think? You have all the information you need to decide if you still want to see me.”

He waited a beat. “There’s one thing I don’t understand. On your profile, you put down that you worked out with weights every day, you ran in marathons and took yoga. We even laughed that we were both pool sharks. Was that true?”

“Yes. I do weight-bearing exercises daily to build my upper body strength because it’s crucial to living independently. I take a special yoga class for disabled people three times a week. And I never said I
ran
in marathons. I participate in wheelchair-racing contests occasionally. I have to work out aerobically to get in shape for those.”

His expression was unreadable.

“Oh, dear God, you think I lied to you? On purpose?” How had she missed the possibility that he might think she’d deceived him with her list of exercises? But she truly hadn’t considered his misinterpretation.

“I don’t know, honestly. All this—” he gestured to the chair “—comes as more of a shock because you put all those activities on your profile.”

“It never occurred to me. I was completely truthful, but I can see now how you’d feel betrayed.” Reaching out, she clasped his arm. “I’m sorry. I’d never lie to you, Joe, I promise you.”

“I can accept your explanation. But in the end, you did lie, Dana. A lie of omission.”

“Then I’m sorry for it.” Dana didn’t want to discuss her situation anymore. Baring her soul was exhausting and painful. “Let’s make a deal. You go home and think about what you’ve just found out. Maybe research my injury on the Net. Decide what you want to do.”

“What’s your part in the deal?”

“I’ll accept any decision you make without fuss. I don’t want a man who can’t accept me as I am. That would be devastating.” Earth-shattering, really, and it terrified her.

“I understand.”

Taking money from his pocket, Joe put it on the bill the waiter had brought. When the guy came back, he asked, “Need me to get the chair for you, Dana?”

“No, I’ll do it.” Joe stood.

Dana watched Joe retrieve her chair. He’d been charming and fun in person. More so, he’d been genuinely concerned about her. He also didn’t make rash statements about her condition not bothering him or offer any platitudes. Unfortunately, all that only made him more attractive to her.

Her insecurities returned and she wondered if she’d made the right decision to meet him, to be honest and give their relationship a shot. There was a high probability he wouldn’t want to see her again, which meant on her very first foray into the social scene, she’d opened herself up to some big-time rejection. She hoped she hadn’t been a fool to test the dating world waters with a man like Joe Moretti.

Chapter 3

Dumfounded, Joe was totally off his game. It was an understatement to say he was shocked by Dana’s disclosure. She’d looked so fit in her online photo, and her profile had listed physical activities she enjoyed, the ones he’d asked about. Plus, she owned a freaking dance studio. How was he to be prepared for what she’d told him, for what he was witnessing right now?

His emotions piled one on top of the other as she aligned the two chairs, braced a hand on the far side of the wheelchair and put the other on her right side. Then she inched herself over until she’d successfully transferred. Finally, she raised the arms. “Ready?” she asked. Her movements had been efficient and easily accomplished, but the strain around her eyes and mouth told Joe her confession had drained her.

“Yeah, sure.” The chair was manual and, totally out of his depth, he asked, “Do you, um, want me to push you?”

She shaded her eyes as she looked up at him. “No, I’ve got it, thanks.”

He followed her out of the eating area and around the side of the building to a small parking lot. She approached a minivan, which sat in a handicap space. “This is mine.”

Joe placed his hand on the back of the chair. Though he was reeling over what she’d told him, or maybe because of it, he didn’t want to be alone with the information she’d given him. He needed more contact with her. So he did what he was good at to get what he wanted. He flirted. “Care to give an injured cop a ride home? I can’t drive yet.”

Glancing anxiously at the van, she said, “If you want me to.”

She fished a remote out of her purse, pressed a button, and Joe heard the locks click. She used it again and the back-passenger door slid open. She hit the command a third time and a ramp lowered from the car to the blacktop. The floor must be altered in the vehicle because the incline wasn’t too bad. He noted there were no seats in the back or the driver’s position. Only one for a passenger was in place. They hadn’t had vans equipped like this for daily use when his dad was sick, and traveling anywhere with him had been a nightmare.

Dana had put on fingerless gloves—he’d seen those before—and wheeled up the ramp. His fists curled as she maneuvered herself. The urge to help her was great. Standing by was foreign to him. If he did indeed date her, that trait was going to be hard to control. His first instinct would be to make things easier for her by doing whatever task she needed done, and she’d made it clear that she wanted self-sufficiency. His mom had told him his father had been adamant about being independent for as long as he could. But the helplessness Joe felt about his dad’s condition had been frightening and frustrating and he was feeling a modicum of that emotion now.

After she’d positioned herself in the driver’s side, Joe slid onto the front seat.

She glanced over at him, her brows knitted. “You sure you want to ride with me? Some people don’t feel safe with all this equipment. With me driving.”

Joe knew he didn’t want to be lumped into that group. He always thought of himself as open-minded. More than Spence and maybe even Cole. So he winked at her. “I been in harrowing car chases, darlin’. I think I can handle you at the wheel.”

She smiled at him. It was a beautiful, sunny smile that shot to his nerve endings. All of them. It was amazing—in the midst of the shock and sadness he was feeling at her confession, she’d turned him on with just one look!

“Where to?” she asked.

“Crittenden Drive. It’s over by—”

“Strong Hospital. I know. I’ve made myself well acquainted with the city streets of Rockland. I like to have as much control over my environment as I can get.”

“Yeah, I guess everybody does.” He pointed to the console between them. “How do you do the gas pedal and brakes?”