Читать книгу Love Tango - J.M. Jeffries - Страница 11

Chapter 2

“I was surprised when you called me.” Surprised but pleased. Roxanne sat down at the sidewalk table across from Nicholas Torres.

The restaurant bordered Santa Monica Boulevard. Nicholas Torres had chosen an outside table to enjoy the pleasantly warm afternoon and watch the young people on spring break crossing the Pacific Coast Highway and making their way to the beach. In the distance she could hear the faintest roar of the waves and smell the tangy salt air. She loved living by the ocean.

“You looked a little uneasy yesterday,” Nick said, “and Nancy told me you’re concerned about being clumsy.”

A waitress handed her a menu and she asked for a glass of water.

“Uneasy was not the word I would use.”

Nick grinned at her. “What word would you use?”

“How about apprehensive, troubled or edgy? Or better yet, let’s try the phrase full-blown panic.” The waitress brought her water and she ordered a Greek salad with extra Kalamata olives.

“You seem very graceful to me,” Nick added.

“First of all, I wear flat shoes, walk slowly and concentrate on what I’m doing.”

“Dancing is the same thing.”

“At a much quicker pace. And then I have to throw in breathing and trying to look comfortable. I’ve seen some of the dresses you’ve put your contestants in. You know the scene with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers where she’s wearing this white dress with feathers. That is the most beautiful, seductive dance scene in the whole of movie history and all he could talk about was the feathers that kept flying into his mouth. I’m not Ginger Rogers. I’m the feathers—all over the place and in your mouth.” Oops, that was very suggestive. Heat spread across her cheeks. “Let me rephrase that...”

Nick just laughed. “Oh, no. You are funny.”

“Yeah I’m hilarious,” she said.

“You’ll do fine,” Nick said. “Again, the best dancer doesn’t always win. When you strip away all the glitter and sweat, it’s really a popularity contest. The person who wins is the one that connects with the audience the most. You’ve got that in the bag.”

“Then why do we have to dance? Why can’t we just be us and pose prettily?”

“Do you not want be on Celebrity Dance?”

She paused for a second thinking. “I’m going to be on your show. I’m going to practice my little heart out. I just don’t want you to be disappointed in me when I don’t measure up to your standards.” She had spent last night watching reruns on YouTube. His grace and talent took her breath away. She’d seen him dance on the show and watched clips of him on Broadway. That man could move like a cloud. Did he have any idea how sexy he looked? How strong and masculine. Oh, he gave her tingles in all the right places.

The waitress brought her salad and placed a thick steak sandwich in front of Nick. Their conversation paused while they took a few bites. “People who don’t try disappoint me.” He popped a french fry into his mouth and chewed. “I come from a big family. I have four brothers and two sisters and we’re all competitive. We all want to win. We all want to be king of the hill.” He smiled as though the nostalgic memories were pleasant.

Her own family was more about backstabbing, which made her sad. Weren’t parents supposed to love and protect their children? Hers had exploited her, and their selfish needs had superseded hers and her siblings’. “I haven’t done anything truly competitive in a few years, and I’m not afraid of anything, but there’s a reason my parents didn’t name me Grace.”

Nick grinned. “I’m happy my mother didn’t let my dad name me Heriberto and my twin brother Mattero like he wanted to.”

Roxanne started to laugh. She was enjoying her lunch with Nick. He was an entertaining man and from some of the looks she was getting from women at other tables, they were just a touch envious she was the one having lunch with the most handsome man in the whole restaurant.

“What happens next?” Roxanne asked. Her salad was delicious and the company was delightful. She felt herself relaxing.

“The official announcement of the next season’s contestants will be on The Morning Show with Daniel Torres next Monday and then later on Entertainment Tonight and The Insider, but before then, we’ll be doing short little interviews that will go up on the show’s website immediately after the announcement. I want to set up a time for you to come in for an interview. My assistant will call you later today with your schedule. We’ll start with hair, makeup and head shots, then do the interview. Next week after the announcement we’re filming a commercial. So you’ll need an appointment with the wardrobe department and then you and I will practice a quick dance move for the teaser trailer. Nothing elaborate, just something easy to showcase you.”

“I get to practice my dance moves.” She flung out her hand trying to quell the nervous fluttering in her stomach and tipped over a glass of water that ended up half in her salad and the rest quickly spreading across the table and dripping down to Nick’s pants. “I’m sorry.” She sprang up.

The waitress hurried over with napkins and started sopping up the mess.

“I should have just settled for jazz hands,” Roxanne said, chagrined at making such a mess. She was never at her best with men and the idea of dancing on TV in front of millions of people was making her more clumsy than normal.

He laughed. “I used to work in a restaurant and this is not the worst thing that has happened to me.” He took a pile of napkins and helped the waitress mop up the water. “We’re outside in southern California, my clothes will dry.”

Heat flooded her face. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t cry over spilled water,” he said.

The waitress wiped up the last bit of water and picked up the drenched salad. She grinned at Roxanne. “I can remake your salad but, honey, you look like you could use a piece of chocolate-silk cream pie instead.”

“No, thank you and I’m done with the salad. I’m going to have to fit in a tight dress.”

“Bring her a piece of pie,” Nick said, his eyes alight with amusement. “Trust me, you’ll work it off starting tomorrow.”

* * *

Nick found himself chuckling in the car as he drove back to the studio. He hadn’t had so much fun with a woman in a long time. He tended to keep things on a light note with the women he normally dated after the bad experience with the stalker had left him shaken.

Roxanne was full of surprises. She had more determination than dance talent, but he could work with that. He wouldn’t be able to turn her into a swan, but he could turn her into a competent dancer. Her personality would do the rest. He just had a feeling the audience was going to love her.

Once at the studio, he found himself walking into his brother’s office instead of heading farther down the hall to his own.

Daniel was hunched over his laptop, frowning. He looked up and his face transformed into a smile.

“What cha doin’, bro?” Nick said. He flopped into a chair.

Daniel grinned. “Greer wants to design a cake that looks like a parade float and actually moves.”

“If anyone can create that, she can. I have total confidence in her.” Greer Courtland was Daniel’s soon-to-be bride. She also designed parade floats for the Rose Parade. Daniel had been impressed by her talent and fallen in love with her while filming segments of the progress of his Rose Parade float. They were planning a January wedding because Greer wouldn’t be able to get away until after October.

“I just want to get married,” Daniel said. “I just want her to be mine forever, so everyone can see. All these details are making me crazy. I’ve spent years looking for her. I never have to date again. I have the woman of my dreams. I just want to get married.”

Nick held up his hands. “Whoa, there. What brought this on?”

Daniel scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m ready to get on with the next phase of my life.” Daniel wasn’t the most patient man in the world. He could fake patience well, but underneath he would seethe. “Okay. I got that off my chest and can get on with my day. But that needed to be said.”

“You need to tell Greer.”

“I’m good now. I am willing to have the wedding of her dreams because it’s more important to make her happy. Dad sat down and gave me the ‘now that you’re getting married’ speech. His talk boiled down to his ‘happy wife, happy life’ metaphor.”

“That must have been uncomfortable.”

“It was more uncomfortable than the sex talk.”

“Yeah, he just gave us a condom and hoped for the best.” Nick remembered the talk clearly. He and Daniel had been fifteen and they’d received only one warning from their mother. There would be no Torres baby-daddies, she’d told them. And like their other brothers, they listened.

“I want to grab Greer and head to Vegas like Mom and Dad did.”

“And disappoint Nina,” Nick said. Their sister was the planner in the family. With Greer and her sisters busy with the floats they was currently building, she’d asked Nina to help with the wedding plans.

Daniel rubbed her temple.

“Good luck, bro,” Nick said cheerfully. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He closed the door on Daniel’s groan and headed to his office.

* * *

The morning of the announcement, Roxanne was up and out the door by 4:00 a.m. racing for the studio to have her hair and makeup done before the big announcement on Daniel Torres’s show. She grabbed her laptop and the file of her current client so she could work during the lulls. She couldn’t afford to waste one minute.

The drive from Pacific Palisades to the studio went more smoothly than normal. No accidents jammed the freeway and traffic was unusually light. She walked into the studio still yawning, a huge cup of coffee in one hand. She never skipped her morning coffee.

After her hair and makeup were finished, she joined the other contestants on the set. Nick reached for her hand and pulled her out slightly ahead of the others.

“We’re live in five,” the director held up fingers. As each one went down, he silently mouthed the number.

“This is Daniel Torres. Welcome back to The Morning Show with Daniel Torres. This morning we have the announcement of the contestants for Celebrity Dance season two, starting May 22. I want to welcome everyone.”

Daniel stood in the center of the set. He backed away and the camera panned across Roxanne and Nick, down the row of people. She knew three of the contestants already, the rest she had never met. Nick chose a broad spectrum of people. A former astronaut, a football player, a Broadway star, the head of a Fortune 500 company, a politician, along with two actresses, herself and two men she’d never heard of. She tried to memorize the names, but everything happened so fast.

Daniel approached her. “Roxanne Deveraux,” he announced her name. “Partnering with Nicholas Torres. You have a strong lineup, Nick, for the coming season.”

Nick smiled. “I give a lot of thought to who I think will do well. I look for people who are entertaining, fun and enthusiastic.” He stepped to the side and held out a hand. “Like Roxanne here.” He twirled her around.

Roxanne tried to stay upright, but one ankle collapsed and she stumbled against Nick. Mortified at her clumsiness, she was amazed when Nick caught her and dipped her. She tried not to look surprised at how smoothly he’d turned her almost tumble into what looked like an orchestrated dance move. She had to admire his ability to think so quickly even as she couldn’t stop thinking she’d made a big mistake.

Stilettos just weren’t her thing. Plus the fact she felt like André the Giant next to petite Adela Gardiner who stood five foot three.

Nick pulled her upright. “Don’t worry, I can work with this.”

She smiled for the camera and Daniel moved down to introduce the rest of the contestants. Each one did a small dance step almost flawlessly and Roxanne tried to keep her spirits from sinking. Even the football player was perfect. When Daniel said something, the football player grinned and said he’d taken ballet lessons in high school so he knew where to put his feet.

Roxanne was even more embarrassed. She tried to slide back into the shadows, but Nick kept a tight grip on her hand refusing to let her hide. She kept a grip on her emotions, refusing to think about how she was going to be humiliated. She couldn’t back out now, she’d committed and Nancy had faith in her.

Daniel finished introducing everyone and he stepped in front of the camera. “There you have it, Los Angeles. The cast of the summer season of Celebrity Dance.”

Everyone smiled. Nick whispered to Roxanne, “Stop being embarrassed. You just gave us a leg up in the competition.”

“I almost broke your foot,” she whispered back.

“You made us the underdog and you know everyone loves an underdog. So smile and look like you’re ready to grab the world.”

She widened her smile and tried to look like she wasn’t cringing inside. She could do this. She was the little train that could.

* * *

The rehearsal room was large with walls lined in mirrors.

Roxanne sat on a bench looking tired. “The waltz is so beautiful. How can it be so deadly, so lethal?” She unbuckled her shoes and rubbed her instep.

Nick knelt down in front of her and took one foot. He could feel the cramp in her instep. Slowly, he massaged the tight muscle, marveling at how soft her skin was. “Your muscles will loosen up. It’s all about muscle memory.”

She sighed. “My body is hoping for amnesia. I have sore muscles I didn’t know I had.”

Nick laughed. “You’re going to be fine.” For the past four hours he’d guided her through the steps over and over, adding little routines that changed the waltz and made it more interesting in his opinion. And holding Roxanne in his arms had sent a thousand different signals to his brain. Her scent, her touch, her nearness almost made him breathless and all he knew was that he didn’t want to let her go.

“This is our first rehearsal and I fell four times.”

Nick continued massaging her instep. “You’re getting it out of your system.”

“I should be dressed in football padding.”

Nick laughed again. “This is the first rehearsal. Just relax, we have plenty of time to make this beautiful. Right now, you have to be comfortable with the dance.”

Roxanne groaned. “How long did it take you to learn the waltz?”

He wasn’t going to tell her it took him maybe ten minutes to figure out the steps and the rhythm. He’d been five years old at the time and had no idea that dance would play a major role in his future life. “No one is judging me. I know what I’m doing.”

“How long?” she pressed.

“Fifteen minutes, tops,” he said with a grin. He moved to her other foot and slowly massaged the tight muscles. “But I make my living as a dancer.”

“I think I’m going to be making my living from a hospital bed.”

“Before you head to the hospital, we’ll do some more stretching exercises, then you’re going home. Ice your feet and calves, then take a nice, hot bath. If you have a Jacuzzi tub, spend some time in it. Then have a glass of wine and eat a lot of protein. Tomorrow we’re really going to get into it.”

“What were we doing today?” She stared at him incredulously.

“This was just the start, learning the steps, getting into the feel. Tomorrow you’ll see Wardrobe for your first fitting and then back here for another four hours of practice.”

She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I’m going home and curling up on the floor.” She stood and stumbled. “Ow. Ow. My feet hurt, my legs hurt, my skin hurts and my eyelashes hurt.”

Nick smiled at her performance as she limped across the floor barefoot. “Walk it off,” he said.

She glared at him. “Twenty hours a week in rehearsal, I’m going to be skin and bones when this over.”

“You’re going to be skin and bones with muscles you didn’t even know you had.” And considering how good she looked now, the extra muscle tone would make her look even sleeker and sexier.

She groaned again.

He’d had a lot of dance partners, and Roxanne was the most inexperienced he’d ever had. He was going to enjoy the challenge of whipping her into shape. And he was enjoying her. And he was thinking of ways to enjoy her more. Even though he shouldn’t be. She made him laugh.

She grabbed her tote and purse from her locker. She looked down at her feet. “My ankles are swollen. My pinky toe doesn’t look right. Is it broken?” She pushed her foot toward him.

“It looks a little pinched from being in those shoes you brought. You might want to look for a wider size.”

She grumbled. “Tomorrow I’m bringing my slippers.”

She slung her tote and purse over her shoulder and headed out the double doors to the parking lot. Nick followed her. From the way she was hobbling, he felt he needed to get her safely to her car.

The parking lot was mostly empty. She limped toward her white Prius and Nick frowned at the huge black Escalade with tinted windows parked next to it.

As she approached her car, the doors to the Escalade opened and a man and woman stepped out.

Roxanne groaned. “No. Not now.” She stopped and Nick stood next to her, every muscle tense in response to her moan.

The woman approached. She was tall and slim and dressed for success in a ruby-red pants suit and black blouse. She wore dark glasses, but even from a distance, Nick could see Roxanne was related to her. The man was also tall, with dark curly hair threaded with gray. He was a little more casual in designer jeans and a white button-down shirt.

“Darling,” the woman said as she air-kissed Roxanne.

Roxanne stepped back, avoiding her mother’s outstretched arms. “Mother.”

“You look...a bit disheveled, dear.”

Roxanne glanced around. “What are you doing here?”

From the resemblance, he knew this man was Roxanne’s father. He stood back slightly. He removed his dark glasses and studied Roxanne.

Her mother laughed. “Darling, you’ve become so cynical.”

“I wonder why.” Roxanne’s tone was dry and tart.

Roxanne mother smiled at Nick. “Hello, I’m Hannah Deveraux, Roxanne’s mother and this is Eli, her father. And you’re Nick Torres. I know all about you.” Hannah smiled pleasantly, but Nick knew he was facing a barracuda. A big hungry barracuda.

“What do you want?” Roxanne’s voice was strained.

“We haven’t spoken much the last few years, but we wanted to congratulate you for being chosen for Celebrity Dance. Such a coup. So much better than playing a corpse.”

Hannah’s voice was smooth and gracious on the surface, but Nick felt an underlying subtext meant for Roxanne alone.

Hannah turned her dark eyes on Nick. “And you, Nicky, you are so lucky to have Roxanne on your show. She’s always wanted to learn how to dance, but her feet never cooperated.”

“I prefer Nicholas.” Nick ground his teeth together at the passive-aggressive performance by Roxanne’s parents. “And Roxanne is going to be great.”

Hannah glanced at her daughter’s bare feet. “Where are your shoes, sweetie? You shouldn’t be walking around barefoot.”

“I have to go,” Roxanne said, taking a step toward her car. “Nice to see you. Bye.”

“But we need to talk,” Hannah sidestepped to cut off Roxanne’s attempt to escape. “We can put you back on top, sweetie. You’d be on every A-list in town.”

“I don’t want to be there.”

Her mother frowned. “Then why are you doing Celebrity Dance?”

Roxanne said nothing, staring her mother down.

Hannah broke the stare down first. “Did you look at the script I sent you? Your father and I own the rights to it. Starring in it could be an opportunity to mend fences. Clear the air.”

“No, I haven’t read it. Nor do I intend to read it.” Roxanne skirted her parents, unlocked her car with the remote in her hand and was in her car before her parents could object.

Nick stood back, half admiring as Roxanne deftly maneuvered her Prius out of its parking space.

Hannah’s mouth tightened. “You must pardon my daughter’s rudeness.”

Nick’s eyebrows rose. “She wasn’t rude to me at all.”

“I hoped she would talk with us,” Hannah said with a sad little sigh. “She’s so very stubborn. We’ve only ever wanted the best for our daughter. I don’t understand what her problem is. We’ve done everything for her.” She gave Nick a coy, sideways look that contained an invitation to unburden himself in some way.

Nick edged back. He needed to get out of here. Confession wasn’t going to be good for their souls and he had a sense they were trying to enlist him.

“I have to get back.” He took another step away from them.

“We need you to help us,” Hannah continued. “Will you talk to Roxanne for us? Tell her we love her and only have her best interests at heart.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but that isn’t my job. We’re coworkers and that’s all. So you have a nice day.”

When he glanced back, Hannah and Eli stood in the middle of the parking lot. Hannah’s gestures were sharp and angry. Eli’s gestures matched hers. Nick wondered what they were arguing about. After a few minutes they climbed back into the black Escalade and peeled out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires and burning rubber.

Once they were gone, Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Mike’s number. “We need to talk. I’ll be at the office in thirty minutes.” He disconnected and walked toward the locker room to get his stuff.

* * *

Nick opened the door to Mike’s office. His wife, Nancy, sat on the sofa, her legs crossed, hands fluttering as she laughed at whatever Mike had said.

Mike looked up. He sat at his desk, one hand poised over a stack of papers. “How did the first rehearsal go?”

“She stepped on my feet eight hundred times. She tripped over her own feet at least four times. She’s a challenge.”

“You love a challenge,” Nancy said.

“You’re right, I do. And she is that.” Nick perched on the corner of Mike’s desk.

“Last year, you took over an overweight, over-the-hill actress...”

“Ouch,” Nick said.

“Those were Mia’s words, not mine... And you made her a dance champion and resurrected her career. She’s going to be in the next Joss Whedon film playing a superhero.”

“Roxanne,” Nancy added, “is young, fit and easy to look at. She’s got a lot of personality.”

And she was a delight to hold, Nick thought. Her skin was soft and her subtle perfume filled him with desire. “Her lack of grace is not going to be the problem.”

“What’s going to be the problem?” Mike asked curiously.

“Her parents,” Nick said with a sigh. “They were waiting in the parking lot after rehearsal. And I think things could have gotten incredibly nasty.” The kind of nasty that could end up in the gossip rags. True or not, the information crippled anyone involved.

Mike rubbed his temple. “I’m glad Roxanne is not contractually obligated to them in any way. That could just be ugly.”

“They’re her family,” Nick said. His own family was so different. They supported each other.

“Family means nothing in this town. It’s what’s written down on paper that counts.”

Nick shook his head. “I still think they are going to be a problem.”

“I don’t think much is going to stop them from being a problem,” Nancy added.

“You’ve been friends with Roxanne for several years now. What does she say about her parents?”

“Nothing,” Nancy replied. “She never talks about them and I don’t ask.”

“Roxanne is a nice woman and I like her.” He liked her a lot. “Her parents might prove a big enough distraction to keep her from doing her best.” Roxanne had an honesty about her that appealed to him. She had no illusions about who she was.

Nancy frowned. “Roxanne is too classy to get dragged into a tawdry controversy with her parents. And I don’t want to see her hurt.”

Mike looked thoughtful. “Controversy can be great publicity, but it’s not something I want for my show. I don’t want this season to be overshadowed by a mudslinging war between Roxanne and her parents. It’s unfair to the other contestants who are actually trying to revive their careers. Plus it creates all kinds of tension on the set.”

“Do you honestly think that will happen?” Nick asked, although he knew the answer.

“You know how the paparazzi and gossip rags love that kind of stuff,” Mike replied.

* * *

Roxanne pulled into her driveway to find Portia’s car parked on the street.

“What are you doing here?” Roxanne asked after walking into her home.

Portia stood in the kitchen making a chicken-salad sandwich. She wore her zoo uniform with the faint hint of hay clinging to her. She held a knife and waved it through the air. “Mom and Dad sent me.”

Roxanne stopped and stared at her sister. “Speak of the devils, I just ran into them. They were waiting for me outside the rehearsal studio.”

Portia patted the top piece of bread into place, cut it and took a bite. She chewed her food for a half minute, swallowed and took a sip of iced tea. “Well, they want to bury the hatchet, extend an olive branch, so to speak. Whatever they can do to bring you back into the fold. I’m supposed to be their ambassador.”

Roxanne opened the refrigerator and grabbed a soda. “Why?”

“They’re bleeding clients like mad. Mom and Dad are giving them all the runaround while they’re trying to sort out their finances. Having the IRS hanging over them every second is messing with their ability to run their business, and even though none of the clients know the details of their tax troubles, Mom and Dad’s erratic behavior about the whole situation is not breeding confidence in their ability to handle their clients’ affairs because they can’t seem to handle their own. And this script they want you to read, they own the rights and it’s actually pretty good.”

“So why don’t they get another actress—a bigger actress? Tons of actresses would kill for a great starring role.” Even as the words left her mouth, Roxanne knew the answer.

Portia gave her an exasperated look. “Public relations. Image rebuilding. Think about it. They have a great script. And with the prodigal daughter partnering with them on it—you know how far that would go to rebuild their image. If you trust them, others would, too.”

Roxanne knew. The industry was full of sheep. Where one went, often more followed.

Portia sat at the table across from Roxanne. “I just spent the morning brainstorming with them and their plan of attack is to bring you back into the warm embrace of our harmonious family and take advantage of your new fame on Celebrity Dance. If they can get you back for this film and show that you have every confidence in them, they would be able to rebuild their client base.”

“Ow,” Roxanne said. “Whose idea was that?”

“Tristan’s.”

“Oh, baby brother.”

“He desperately wants to be on Broadway, especially since his character is being written out of that medical drama he’s on, and the lead in the revival of Timbuktu is coming up for audition. Even I know he’s perfect for the role.”

Roxanne said in a jaundiced tone, “He’s going to have to give up drinking, partying and chasing women. That type of behavior is only excused when you reach the top.”

Portia nodded as she bit into her sandwich and gave a little sigh. She ate in silence for a few minutes. “Mom and Dad are frantic.”

“They’re seeing their little empire crumble around them.”

Roxanne didn’t want to be drawn back into her parents’ domain. Until she’d turned sixteen, she’d been under their controlling thumb and spent a lot of days resenting them.

The garage door opened and their grandmother walked into the kitchen carrying a load of grocery bags. “Hello, girls.”

Portia jumped up to kiss Donna Deveraux on the cheek. Like Portia, Donna was small and compact with gray hair cut tight to her head and expressive brown eyes. Her voice still held a hint of Southern cadence from her Mississippi childhood. Her eyes lit up at the sight of her granddaughters.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, Portia. Are you staying for dinner?” Donna asked as she set grocery bags on the counter.

“Sure.” Portia said. “I was hoping we could have a slumber party tonight.”

Roxanne kissed her grandmother on the cheek and set about unpacking the groceries and putting them away.

“We can do that,” Donna said.

If not for her grandmother, Roxanne might have gone insane as a child. Donna had cared for her, homeschooled her, acted as guardian when Roxanne was on the set and generally kept her grounded in the real world. Donna had always been around when Roxanne needed her and once she’d graduated college and bought this house, she’d moved her grandmother in with her. She’d set up a modest trust fund that generously supplemented her grandmother’s social security because somewhere down through the years, her parents had forgotten to pay her for her services. When Roxanne had found out, she’d been livid.

“Grams,” Roxanne said, “What are you cooking tonight?”

Donna grinned at her granddaughters. “Chicken and dumplings, child.” She reached into one of the plastic bags. “And a bottle of your favorite pinot grigio.”

“Maybe not,” Portia said. “I’m being considered as the lead in a series of commercials for some car ads.”

Roxanne countered, hating to see her sister deprive herself. The industry was merciless on women who weren’t a size two. “One decadent meal isn’t going to kill your figure.”

Portia looked thoughtful. “I can always spend a little more time working out tomorrow.”

Roxanne took the wine bottle and put it in the refrigerator to chill.

“Are we celebrating something?” Portia asked.

“I just felt like doing something special.” Donna opened a cabinet and pulled out a large pan. “How did your first rehearsal go?”

“My feet hurt,” Roxanne said. “I want to soak my abused toes and everything else in between that and my ears. I stepped on Nick’s toes so many times, I’m surprised they aren’t broken, and tripped over my own feet. I lost count after five.”

“That bad, was it?” Donna said.

“And that wasn’t the worst part. Mommy and Daddy showed up.”

Donna’s eyes narrowed. “And they wanted what?”

“They want me to read that script Portia brought a couple weeks ago.” Roxanne sat down at the table and cupped her chin in the palm of one hand.

Donna poured herself a glass of iced tea and sat down at the table with them. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing,” Roxanne replied.

“Don’t you want to help them?” Donna asked.

“No.”

Donna grinned and walked over to the table. Putting an arm around her granddaughter’s neck, she said, “Just testing you.”

Roxanne hugged her grandmother.

“Forget the wine, we need the hard stuff.” Donna straightened, opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of tequila.

Roxanne burst out laughing. “Is that your answer to everything?”

“It is. Especially since you girls are both over the age of twenty-one. Margaritas, anyone?” Donna then opened the refrigerator and brought out a bottle of margarita mix and limes. “I made myself a solemn promise. If I exercise every day, I can drink margaritas.”

“Didn’t you spend an hour at the gym this morning doing Pilates?”

“Just so I can have a cocktail,” she said to Roxanne.

Portia shook her head. “Grandma, you’re my hero.”

Roxanne hugged her grandmother. “Mine, too.”

“Then we’re going to sit down, put our heads together and figure out what we can do to foil my DNA’s contribution to the future.” Donna pulled out the blender.

“Grams,” Roxanne said, “At some point you have stop blaming yourself for Mom and Dad’s decisions. Life is a crapshoot.”

Portia jumped to her feet to retrieve ice from the freezer. She filled a bowl and handed it to Donna who dumped it into the blender, then added tequila and margarita mix. Roxanne stood and opened a cabinet and brought out the margarita glasses.

“What are our options?” Portia asked.

Donna thought hard for a moment. “Just ignore them. That irritates them the worst.”

“Having my parents back in my life would bring up all the old anger, resentment and distrust. I don’t need them.”

“Then option two would be figuring out a way to get them to back off,” Donna continued.

“Maybe if I accused them of stalking...” She doubted an accusation would stop them. They were too determined. “Is there an option three?”

“Pack up and move to Norway,” Portia said.

“Paris,” Donna said, “and you’d have a deal.”

“London,” Portia said. “I don’t speak French.”

“There’s an island right in the middle of the Channel,” Roxanne said with a laugh. “We could go there.”

“What would you do?” Roxanne asked. She trusted her grandmother implicitly.

Donna pursed her lips. “Let your parents initiate all the drama. I think in the long run, it reflects badly on them and not you, no matter how hard they try to spin it otherwise.”

Roxanne spun all the information through her mind. Maybe she needed to stop worrying that bad stuff was going to happen. After all, the endgame was building her business and making Nancy happy, not diving headfirst back into show business. Her bit parts were enough, and even those were becoming less and less appealing as they pulled her away from her true passion of genealogy.

Her grandmother took her hand. “What happens, happens. You have no control over your parents and what they think or do. All you have to do is act in the gracious manner you’ve cultivated all these years. Be classy. Be above the madness.”

Roxanne closed her eyes. She would try, but with her parents on her back, it was hard to rise above it.

She just hoped her parents didn’t interfere too much. She needed her head in the game so she didn’t let everyone at Celebrity Dance down.