Before I Do Amazon (7 page)

"I haven't been out of the city in a few months. Sometimes I forget that there's another world away from San Francisco."

"You'll be seeing more of the world very soon."

"When exactly are we leaving for Argentina?"

"Friday afternoon. It's a long flight, we'll get in Saturday morning. The performance is on Sunday night. We can fly back Monday, or if you'd like more time to explore, you can stay longer. Does that work?"

"Yes, I was worried that it might be at the same time as my friend's bridal shower, but that's the following weekend. I definitely cannot miss the shower, as I'm one of the bridesmaids. And Liz would probably kill me."

"You'll be back by then. Is Liz a long-time friend?"

"Since college. I made some of closest friends my freshmen year in the dorms. We've stayed close since then."

"That's impressive. Most people drift apart."

"We worried about that, so we made a pact. No matter where we are or what we're doing we'll always stand up for each other at our weddings. Three down and five to go."

"There are eight of you?"

"Yes, one bride and seven bridesmaids at every wedding."

"I've really never understood the concept of a huge bridal party. If a bride or groom needs that many people to get them down the aisle, maybe they shouldn't be getting married."

Isabella laughed. "That's not the point of it. It's about being surrounded by your friends and feeling their love and support."

"You should only need the love and support of the person you're exchanging vows with."

"Well, that's true. Liz doesn't need us, but she wants us to be there, and we want to be there for her."

"And everyone is showing up?"

She nodded. "So far, it's worked out, but I have to admit there's been a flurry of engagements lately so it's getting a little crazy. Laurel and Andrea got married last year. Liz is tying the knot in June, and Julie is planning a November wedding for when her fiancé gets done with baseball."

"Who is her fiancé?"

"Matt Kingsley."

"Really? Your friend is marrying the Cougar's star hitter?"

"Yes. He's a great guy. Do you like baseball? I might be able to get us tickets to a game."

"The hotel has season tickets, and I love baseball. I used to play when I was a kid."

"What position?"

"Pitcher."

"Of course. You would like to be in a position to control the game."

"I did like pitching," he admitted. "But the catcher actually calls the game, so the pitcher doesn't have all the power."

"Close enough."

"No sports for you?"

"Just dance. Anything that involved hitting or kicking a ball was not in my skillset."

He liked how honest and self-deprecating Isabella was. She never tried to portray herself in a more positive light. She was happy in her own skin, and he hadn't met too many people like that.

"Liz was one of the best athletes in our group," Isabella continued. "She's a little like you—ambitious, competitive, and always wants to be the best. Fortunately, she also has a big heart and a fiercely loyal streak where her friends are concerned."

"What does her fiancé do?"

"He's in public relations now. So is Liz. In fact, they work together at Michael's sister's company. But Michael used to be a pro football player, and I think his aspirations lie more in coaching than in promotions."

"What's his last name?"

"Stafford."

He nodded. "I've heard of him. What is it with your friends and professional athletes?"

She laughed. "I have no idea. But Liz and Michael met in high school, long before he was a famous football player. They actually didn't like each other when they were kids. I guess what they say about love being the flip side of hate is true. Once Liz and Michael reconnected and got past the old rivalries, there was nothing but love." She paused. "Liz is getting married at the Stratton Hotel in Sonoma. My friend Maggie works there and got her a deal. Do you know the hotel?"

"I do. I tried to buy it a few years ago, but the owner wouldn't sell. Apparently, she has a personal attachment to the place."

She glanced over at him. "You make that sound unusual. Don't you have a personal attachment to your hotels?"

"I love my hotels, but if it made sense to sell one, I would. If it's good business, I can't let emotion get in the way."

She sighed. "I don't think I'm going to be a good businesswoman. I often let emotion get in the way. Just the other day I agreed to let two girls take lessons for free because they gave me a sob story about their single mom. I later found out they had two wonderful parents who just didn't want to spend money on dance until they got their grades up."

"Did you kick them out?"

"No, because I thought if they wanted to dance that much, they should be dancing. I did, however, speak to their parents, and we worked out a schedule where the girls have to do their homework before they dance. That way we all win."

"And the parents agreed?"

"The mom said yes right away, but the dad kept saying dance was frivolous and the girls were wasting their time."

"Well, isn't it a little frivolous?" he couldn't help asking.

She frowned. "No. Dance is an art. Art is an important part of our culture."

"But it doesn't pay the bills."

"Sometimes it does."

"Not for most dancers." He wondered more about her background. "You said you danced professionally before you got injured. Was that lucrative?"

"I wasn't getting rich, but I could get by."

"And you've never thought about going back to the theater?"

"I'm a teacher now."

He didn't usually like to dig that deep into a woman's life, but her restraint was only making him more curious. "It feels like you're leaving something out of your story."

"I wasn't telling you a story," she returned. "I was a dancer. I'm not anymore. That's it."

"And you don't miss dancing?"

"I dance every day with my students."

"That's not the same thing."

"Dance is dance; it doesn't matter where you are or who you're doing it with." She paused, gazing over at him. "You'll see, Nick. Once you stop worrying about making the right steps, you'll fall in love with dance."

"I seriously doubt that," he said, pulling off the freeway at the Sausalito exit.

If he was going to fall in love, it wasn't going to be with dance, but it might just be with Isabella.

That errant thought sent a disturbing wave of uneasiness through his head.

He didn't do love. He didn't get attached.

And Isabella was the type of woman would settle for nothing less than a man's heart and soul—definitely not the woman for him.

* * *

The Seagull Café was a tiny restaurant by the harbor in Sausalito. It looked more like a house than a restaurant with blue siding, white shutters and window boxes filled with flowers. Isabella was surprised by Nick's choice. The café looked warm and homey, not at all sophisticated, not at all the kind of place someone like Nick would go for breakfast.

But it was immediately clear that he was a regular at the café. A fifty-something-year-old woman with a round figure, sparkling blue eyes, and a cheerful smile greeted Nick with a big hug, an embrace he actually returned with some enthusiasm.

"It's been too long, Nicholas," she said. "Your table has missed you."

"I'm sure you've been able to fill it." He looked around the crowded café. "Business is good?"

"Very good, especially on the weekends." She gave Isabella an interested look, and said, "Aren't you going to introduce me, Nick?"

"Sorry. Isabella Martinez, this is Joanie Hooper. Joanie and her husband own this wonderful restaurant."

"It's nice to meet you," she said, seeing Joanie give her an assessing look.

"You, too," Joanie replied. "Your table is being bussed right now, Nick, so your timing is perfect."

"Any table will do," Nick said, but Joanie insisted on leading them to the outside deck and a table by the railing overlooking the boats.

"Whatever you want is on the house," Joanie added, handing them both menus. "The chef's special waffle of the day is blueberry, and it's amazing."

"You say that about everything Tom makes," Nick said.

"I found a good man, what can I say? My chef, Tom, is also my husband," she explained for Isabella's benefit. "We opened this café three years ago—with Nick's help. We couldn't have done it without him."

"You could have done it without me; it just would have taken you longer," Nick said.

"Like a lifetime." Her eyes welled up. "We owe you everything, Nick. I never would have imagined the serious, skinny kid who asked me a million questions would one day be my savior." She turned to Isabella. "He's a good man, in case you were wondering."

Isabella smiled. "Good to know."

"You don't have to impress her, Joanie," Nick said. "She's not a date. She's a…business associate."

"Really? Is that what I am?" she teased. She glanced up at Joanie. "Actually, I'm a dance teacher, and I'm teaching Nick the tango."

Joanie raised an eyebrow. "The tango? You're learning to dance, Nick? Now that sounds like a story I want to hear."

"I'll tell you another time," Nick said firmly. "We're kind of hungry here, Joanie."

"Okay, I'll let you off the hook for now. Why don't I bring you a couple of our favorite dishes, some omelets, waffles, bacon and hash browns. What do you say?"

"Sounds good to me," Isabella said, handing back her menu. "But what are you bringing for Nick to eat?"

Joanie laughed. "I like you, Isabella." She gave Nick a pointed look. "She's a lot more fun than those skinny models you usually show up with. They don't eat a thing. It's a waste of good food."

As Joanie moved away from the table, Isabella said, "Skinny models, huh?"

He shrugged. "I don't remember."

"Now that is a lie. You are not a man who forgets anything."

"You think you know me well enough to make that statement?"

"I don't know you well at all, but I still think I'm right."

He laughed. "Maybe this time."

His grin transformed his face from rigid and unyielding to friendly and warm.

"You should do that more often," she said. "Smile. It makes you look like a human."

"Otherwise, I look…"

"Angry, on your guard, as if you're ready for the worst."

He sat back in his seat, a contemplative gleam in his eyes. "I am usually ready for the worst. You read people well, Isabella."

"Sometimes. Not always. I'm trying to get better so I can save myself from painful mistakes."

"Who was he?" Nick asked.

The sharp gleam in his eyes told her he wasn't going to let her get away without an answer. "Carter Hayes."

"What happened?"

"A lot."

"Tell me."

She could have said no. Nick didn't like to talk about himself. He probably would have respected her privacy, but for some reason she found herself wanting to tell him. Maybe then he'd understand why the studio was so important to her.

"I met Carter in New York. He was getting a reputation for being a brilliant director, and I was awestruck when I met him. I was that foolish, naïve girl who couldn't believe the most popular man in the theater world wanted to date me. I thought I was special, but it turned out I wasn't. But I didn't find out right away. I was living in a dream world for several months."

"What do you mean?"

"We'd been going out a few months when a part came up in a new musical Carter was directing for a successful husband and wife production team—Hal and Donna Tyler. Carter got me an audition, and I won the role. It turned out to be a bigger part than either of us expected. Over the next few weeks, as the script got rewritten, my part got bigger. The Tylers and I were on the same page. I loved their musical and they loved the way I danced."

She took a sip of her water, then continued. "Carter, however, was not so happy. He didn't want me to have the bigger part. He was afraid to risk his reputation on an unknown, even an unknown he was sleeping with."

"Sounds like a hell of a guy."

"It took me far to long to see that he was not a good person and he was never in love with me. I was just one of many women he liked. I actually found him in bed with another dancer—a friend. It was heart-breaking." She could still remember the pain and sense of betrayal she'd felt at that moment. "I thought that was the worst of it, but it wasn't."

"What else happened?"

"While my personal life was spinning out of control, my professional life also ran into problems. The production lost one of the stars three weeks before the opening to a serious illness. The investors got worried. One of them pulled his money out. The producers were scrambling to replace those funds. They wanted to put on a special showcase to generate excitement in the musical and sell more tickets for opening night. Carter had a lot of pressure on him, and he put that pressure onto me."

She swallowed a knot in her throat, then forced herself to continue. She'd gone this far, she might as finish the story. "There was a scene that involved a staircase and some scaffolding. In the rehearsal, I told Carter that I didn't think the structure was stable. He basically told me to suck it up and do the dance or he'd find someone to replace me. I saw the ruthless determination in his eyes. So I sucked it up, and I did the dance. Thirty seconds before the end of the number, the scaffolding collapsed, and I fell ten feet to the stage. I broke my leg in two places."

Nick drew in a quick breath. "Isabella, I'm sorry."

"I had to have surgery and months of rehab. Dancing was out of the question. So I went back to the studio and I started to teach."

"How long ago was that?"

"A year and a half."

"So you're fully recovered now?"

She nodded. "Yes, but I missed my window of opportunity. I'm old for a dancer now. I don't know that I could compete anymore, even if I wanted to, and I don't want to. I'm done with that part of my life. I'm going to run my own studio now, help other dancer reach their dreams." She let out a breath. "That's the whole story."