Page 13 of Believe in Me
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Trish stood in the wings waiting for her turn. The jitterbugs had hit every mark and the audience was cheering for them when they walked off stage. Of course, the audience was made up of family but… hey, she’d take it for only working with them for a month.
The lights dimmed and Stephanie’s voice came through the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unexpected treat for you tonight. As some of you may have heard, Keira Molton, had an accident during rehearsal for one of the numbers in tonight’s performance. She will be fine, eventually, but is unable to perform her solo this evening. Everyone at Dance Now wishes her a speedy recovery.” Stephanie paused for the applause to die down. “We were fortunate enough to find someone with enough talent to fill in for Keira. One of the volunteers that assisted with tonight’s performance has years of experience. Trish Peterson began her dance career outside of Dallas at Movement…” Stephanie read Trish’s dance bio from her last tour withKinky Boots.
Trish was stunned and all she could do was close her eyes and breathe. She could and would do this. The song rang so many bells for Trish. She heard the first notes of the song and opened her eyes. Performance time. Trish entered the stage with a Calypso leap and her love of dance took over.
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Holy shit! Trish looked amazing on stage. She hadn’t told Mike that she was performing. And she’d been on the national tour ofKinky Bootsperforming as Lauren. He didn’t know a lot about plays but he’d heard of that one and even listened to some of the music. How the hell had she ended up making coffee in San Antonio?
Mike watched as she spun and jumped and… he was sure there were proper names for all the moves she was doing. She seemed to become the music; when he listened to the words, he could see her joy and sorrow translating the pretty and unpretty. Her movements flowed seamlessly when it mentioned pretty but then were jerky for unpretty. Trish began to spin with one leg kicking out and pulling in, like it was controlling the speed but then the music seemed to be ending as Trish threw herself into the air to land in a heap on the ground. Mike was out of his seat and at the edge of the stage before he even realized he was moving. The room was silent, then Trish stood facing the audience which made them all fly to their feet and clap.
He watched as Trish slid her right foot behind her and bow. When she straightened, she looked in his direction. It seemed almost choreographed as he held the bouquet up to her.
Chapter 9
Butterflies were doing the Tango in Trish’s stomach. She’d been going on get-to-know you dates with Mike since the recital. Nothing extravagant or too personal. Dinner here, a movie there and one memorable outing to play miniature golf. But tonight? She’d gone out on a limb and invited Mike to dinner at her condo. She wasn’t 100-percent sure she was ready for this, but Jess was right— Joe would haunt her if she just crawled in beside him.
When she got home from the café, Trish changed into an old pair of tights and a leotard that had seen better days. She needed to deep clean the condo before Mike came over tonight. In the mood for ups and downs in her music, she put on the cast recording ofLes Misérablesand got to work. Before she started cleaning, she prepped a chicken with some lemon, garlic, rosemary and thyme and put it in the oven to bake. She would mash up some potatoes and throw together a salad in a bit.
Going from room to room, she mixed in different stretches that came to her muscles without her thinking. She’d been dancing more around the house since the recital; it was soothing something for her. First position in the hall, right leg up on the ledge that divided the entry and the living room. Toes pointed, arms above her head, gracefully to fingers to toes… hold for a count of four and up. The house was getting clean as she danced to Valjean and Javert fighting. She pirouetted down the hall from the bathroom with an arm full of towels, “Master of the House” blasting. She spun marking her position, whipping her head around, hair flying. Something moved in her vision as she made the last circle but couldn’t stop her momentum then crashed into a wall that wasn’t supposed to be there. Towels went one way; she went the other until arms grabbed her to stop her spinning.
“Whoa, whoa. Brava?” Mike asked, hesitantly.
Trish pulled back, trying to catch her breath. “How did you get in? Alexa, pause music.” With that small statement, it went quiet in the house. She still wasn’t convinced that giving him a chance was a good thing for her. Been there, done that, got the hat and the heart break to prove it.
Mike glanced over his shoulder at the open door. “The door was open, and I figured no matter how loud I knocked that you wouldn’t hear me over the music.” He stood there and shrugged. “Thanks for the private performance? I watched you as you came down the hall. Not as good as seeing you fly across the stage, but I’ll take any chance to watch you move.”
Trish pulled back and studied Mike’s face. Yeah, he was serious. “Okay. Are you early?” she asked as she moved to see the box on the entertainment center. “Wow, you’re not. I obviously lost track of time. Why don’t you have a seat on the couch while I check on dinner and change.” Pulling at the neckline of her leotard she realized that she might want to take a shower. “I might be a few so I can wash off this sweat.”
If she hadn’t been looking directly at Mike, she might have missed the look of heat that flashed across his face. Hmm, something to think about.
“Take your time. I can check on the…” Mike paused to sniff the air. “Chicken?”
“I tossed one in the oven with some herbs to bake. Figured some potatoes and a salad would be good sides. Nothing too heavy.” Trish stepped out of Mike’s arms and moved to pick up the towels. “Let me show you where everything is in the kitchen.”
Mike stopped Trish and took the towels from her. “You go do what you need to do and I’ll stumble around the kitchen on my own. Mom made sure that I wasn’t incompetent in that realm,” he said before placing a short kiss on her lips. “Now, shoo.” He turned her back to him and swatted her ass lightly.
Looking over her shoulder, Trish blew a kiss at him. “I won’t be long.”
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Mike watched her go down the hall and adjusted himself. Damn, he did like looking at her ass. Shaking his head, he went into the kitchen. It wasn’t a huge space so it didn’t take him long to figure out where the dishtowels went, and find pot holders. A quick look in the oven told him that the chicken was browning nicely.
He grabbed a knife, cutting board and a pot and started to chop up the potatoes that were on the counter. Mike left the skins on; his mother always told him that there were a lot of vitamins in the peel. Whether that was correct, or she just didn’t want to bother, he wasn’t sure but he wasn’t going to go looking for an answer either. They added texture in his opinion.
When he finished the potatoes, he added water to the pot and started them on the burner. He was pulling vegetables out of the crisper when a shuffling noise caught his attention. Looking over his shoulder, he barely caught himself before landing on his ass. Trish was standing there in a soft-looking t-shirt with the phantom mask on it and leg hugging jeans that looked like she’d had them for a while. They caressed her calves and thighs, making his hands itch to follow them.
“Oh, you didn’t have to take care of the potatoes,” Trish said as she walked over and held a hand out. Mike took it and let her help him up.
“I told you. My mother made sure I was competent in the kitchen. A reason to keep me around,” he teased. “Should be about twenty minutes for them and I think the chicken’s about done too. Take it out and let it rest?”
Trish reached for the tomatoes Mike had forgotten he was holding and nodded. “If you can take care of that, I’ll chop up the veggies and we’ll be about set to eat. What do you want to drink? I’ve got milk, sweet tea, water, coffee, wine and beer.”
“Whatever you’re having works for me.” Mike wasn’t going to be picky. He was just happy to get some time with Trish alone. He’d enjoyed their dates out but really just wanted to spend quiet time with her and he didn’t care what they did.
“Sweet tea it is then. Can you grab the plates and silverware?” Trish asked as she took the pitcher from the fridge then reached for glasses.
