Love's Last Chance (21 page)

She lay back, too hung over to get up, but
reached for her dance bag. After unzipping it, she pulled out the
manila envelope. “I wasn’t dreaming,” she muttered aloud.

Fingering the high quality paper that
carried her big chance written on it, her heart swelled.
I’ve
been waiting for this all my life. A break. A chance to do what I
love.

Her mind turned to her three men.
What if
one of them had said ‘yes, come back to New York and marry me,’ and
I had agreed? Now, I’m free to take this offer and taste some
success, even if the pilot doesn’t get picked up. My name will be
out there with both the movie and the pilot. More work will come my
way.

Instantly, she understood what John Flanagan
was trying to tell her. Shame flowed through her heart when she
recalled the terrible way she’d treated him.
He knew what was
best for me before I did. I’m sorry, Johnny.

Sitting up slowly, Dorrie bent her knees and
touched her ankle. It was a little tender but not sore, which put a
smile on her face. She headed for the bathroom, grabbing a cup of
coffee on the way. After popping ibuprofen, she turned on the
shower and stepped in. The cascading water eased her symptoms,
making her feel better. She prepared a mental list of things to
do.

After signing the contract, I’m going new
car shopping. Not second-hand car shopping. New car. Not the
cheapest one, either. Something nice.
The idea made her grin.
As she scrubbed her body and washed her hair, a sense of well-being
flowed through her veins. This was her reward for all the hard work
and creativity she’d put into her job. She deserved to be hired for
the pilot and the series, too.

Dorrie shipped the contract by
Fedex
to Grant Hollings in New York. He was now her lawyer, recommended
by her friend Grace Brewster. Grant, Grace’s brother-in-law, had
done an excellent job on the movie contract. He said he’d make this
one top priority.

While she waited, she looked at larger
apartments and test-drove new cars. The
Mazda
Miata was a
sexy sports model she could now afford. On the phone, she took a
survey of her friends about the color for the vehicle. As much as
she liked a red one, it clashed with her auburn hair. In a fit of
giggling, she and Gracie decided that “innocent blue” would be the
best.

“Your car will be the only innocent thing
about you,” Grace joked.

In three weeks, the contract was signed, and
Dorrie had received her first check. Three meetings had been
scheduled and postponed. After the high of being selected for the
pilot was over, she became depressed. New clothes purchased for the
first gathering, and even driving there in her new car, didn’t
raise her spirits.

Success isn’t the same without a special
man to share it with.
She missed her three guys. Gunther took
her out to dinner to celebrate after their first session with the
director. He had been excessively charming as he reiterated his
proposition to her.

“Don’t get a new apartment. Let me find you
one,” he had purred. But she had resisted, though he was becoming
more and more tempting as being alone grated on her.

She had dated a Norwegian guy named Anders
before she left to run the dance studio in New York for a few
months. But he had gone back to Norway when his six months in L.A.,
working for his company, had finished. They had had fun. He was so
different, funny, and sweet. But they both had known it wasn’t
forever.

Dorrie had had quite a few “not forever”
boyfriends since she and Gunther had parted. She found herself
interested in playing the field and not getting serious with
anyone. She had been devastated by Gunther’s desertion. Flying solo
suited her raw emotions and frayed nerves.
No expectations means
no disappointments. But that’s not enough anymore. I’m ready for
more.

Facing a rigorous work schedule that would
demand long hours plus time to rest her ankle, she didn’t see many
opportunities for meeting new men.
Maybe on the set?
Those
relationships were potentially explosive.
If we break up badly
and have to work together?
She shuddered at the thought.

She considered Internet dating services, but
more and more her thoughts turned to one man. One man in New York.
One man who her ‘one more day’ with had proved to be the extra time
she needed to surrender her heart. But now she was stuck.

Maybe I should marry Gunther? But he’ll
never be faithful. At least I won’t be alone. He says he loves me,
but he’s so chilly, demanding…difficult. Can’t marry Gunther. Can’t
shack up with him, either, can I?

Several phone calls to Gracie didn’t help
her decide what to do. Meg was equally unhelpful. But both women
told her not to take up with Gunther in any way, shape, or form.
She took their advice although she saw him at every meeting and he
began to grow on her.

Maybe we can become friends. Gunther
always said there were no friends in this business. That movie
business and friendship were opposites and anyone who said
different was a liar. I believed him at the time, yet I feel like
he is my friend. Though, I wouldn’t trust him too far.
She
laughed at her own notions and how Gunther would ridicule her for
trusting even him.

After two months of meetings, it was time to
audition dancers. Gunther had had Amy set up the auditions, and she
had botched the job. So Dorrie took over.

“I’m going to fire that girl.”

“Amy?”

“She’s incompetent. Can’t do anything
right.”

“You scare her to death.”

“So? I’m going to tell her I’m shopping for
an assistant for her. Let her set up interviews, and when I hire
someone, I’ll fire her. The new person can take her place. Clever,
huh?”

He turned to look at her.

“Diabolical.”

He chuckled. “You’re such a flatterer,
Dorrie.”

Auditions were planned for three weeks. On
the first day, Dorrie stayed afterward to clean up and make notes.
When she finished writing, she put Swan Lake in her CD player.
Turning up the sound as she cleared props off the stage, the music
moved her.

After days and days of rest, her ankle was
stronger. When the part for the dying swan came on, she was moved.
Memories of dancing to this piece, her favorite in the whole
ballet, returned. She had starred in
Swan Lake
in ballet
school every two years since she was twelve. Classical training had
suited Dorrie. She was built to be a dancer and had developed a
love of classical music since the third grade, when she had gotten
her first CD of famous ballet and symphony pieces for
Christmas.

Dorrie’s mother had been a pianist who had
played in the orchestra in Baltimore when she had met Dorrie’s
father. Evan Rodgers was a stockbroker who appreciated the finer
things in life, like classical music and a stunning wife. He
perished in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Dorrie’s mother
remarried after three years and went to live in Europe with her new
husband. They were killed in a boating accident. Dorrie had been
devastated at the loss of both her parents so quickly in her young
life.

The familiar strains called to her body. Her
muscles responded. She moved to the rhythm, striking familiar poses
and executing
jetés
and
pirouettes
beautifully, for
someone who had not done them for more than three years. Her body
loosened up as she danced. Recognition of the dance mixed with
sorrow at not being able to perform again created emotions that
added grace and feeling to every movement.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a
riffle of the curtain in the wings. A tall figure stood in the
shadows, but she couldn’t quite make him out. He had disrupted her
concentration, causing her to falter.

“Gunther! Come out! I see you. You’ve
wrecked my timing.”

But the man did not move. She spun one more
time before stopping, her fists firmly resting on her hips. “Get
out here!” Her face clouded, her brow furrowed. As the gentleman
walked onto the stage, the light revealed his identity. Dorrie’s
mouth fell open as she stood in stunned silence. He waited several
feet away for her to catch her breath.

“Johnny?”

* * * *

He stepped out of the shadows. “Glad to see
me?” He stood in front of her, wearing a navy blue suit and striped
tie, looking more handsome than ever.

“What are you doing here?” Her heartbeat
climbed, almost beating out of her chest.

“Nice greeting.” He shook his head as he
moved closer. He took Dorrie in his arms and kissed her long and
hard. She melted. He raised his head. “Happy to see me?”

“Happy? Beyond happy.” Tears formed in the
corner of her eyes.

“Don’t cry, baby. I’m here for you.”

“Me?” Hope entered her heart.

“Damn, woman, you can be so dense. I’ve
moved here, to be with you.”

“Don’t kid with me.” She shook her head
slightly.

“It’s true.” His hands held her waist.

“But what about that new expansion…”

“It’s here.” He grinned.

“Here?” Adrenaline flowed in her veins.

He nodded. “Pretty cool. Some surprise,
eh?”

“You moved here to be with me?” She
desperately wanted to believe him, but fear of disappointment made
her hang back.

“We belong together, Dorrie. You and me.
It’s always been true. I was too stupid to see it until you came
back.”

“Oh, Johnny,” she breathed, raising her lips
to his. He took her mouth in a hungry kiss, his strong arms holding
her so close there wasn’t a whisper of air between them. She
matched his heat, digging her fingers down through the fabric of
his suit jacket into his muscles, pressing her breasts to his
chest.
Maybe if I don’t let go, it’ll never end.

Finally, he came up to catch his breath. “My
God, you’re better than ever,” he said, combing his fingers through
her hair.

“Yes, she is. And she’s all mine.” Gunther
stepped out onto the stage.

“Who’s this?” Johnny whispered to
Dorrie.

“Gunther, stop. Go away.”

“I’ve already claimed her, so you can
shuffle along home.” Gunther made a shooing gesture with his hand.
Johnny’s eyes darkened.

“The lady doesn’t seem to agree.” John put
his arm around her shoulders.

“She hasn’t relented yet. But she will.”

“Gunther, please. You’re my friend. Nothing
more. Accept it, okay?”

“It’s not okay. Gunther Quill never
loses.”

“Except this time, fella. Shove off. The
lady and I have some major catching up to do.”

Gunther approached Johnny in an intimidating
manner, but John stood his ground. He moved away from Dorrie and
squared off against Gunther. They were practically nose-to-nose
when Dorrie stepped in. She pushed them apart and took Gunther
aside. “Can we discuss this later?”

“If you wish,” he said, backing up. “I’ll be
back. Make no mistake,” he said to Johnny.

“Any time, buddy, any time.” John took a
boxing stance, raised his chin a bit, his eyes dark pools of angry
fire. Gunther slipped into the wings and disappeared.

“Tell me…tell me everything.” Dorrie turned
hopeful eyes to him.

“Let’s get out of here. Place gives me the
creeps. And so does that Dracula guy. Geez, ya don’t even hear him
coming.”

“His expensive, Italian shoes.”

“Creepy. Who is he?”

“My ex and the producer I’m working
with.”

“That’s too bad. He’ll have to learn to keep
his distance from you. Let’s get something to eat. I’m
starved.”

He opened the door for her to his brand new
car. Then got in on the driver’s side. He turned to her as he
pushed a button to start.

“This is solar-powered, it’s what we make.
The solar battery, that is. My brother invented it. I’m here to
expand sales to the West Coast and Asia.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I’m the star salesman and the inventor’s
brother.” He grinned at her. “How could they turn me down?”

Dorrie ran her hand over the dash.
Is the
engine even on? I don’t hear a thing.

“If you’re listening for the engine, forget
it. The battery is as quiet as a mouse. Can’t even tell it’s on
unless you look at this.” He pointed to a gauge.

“This is brilliant.”

“Yeah, my brother’s an engineering
genius.”

“This is going to make you a mint.”

“I hope so. I’m doing well now. But more to
the point…I want my brother to get the recognition he
deserves.”

“He hasn’t?”

“A lot of people laughed at him when he was
starting out. They’re not laughing now.”

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a cozy little restaurant called
Whispers. It’s near the house I’m renting.”

“How convenient,” she snickered. “You’re
already in a house?”

“I’ve been here for a month. Wanted to get
everything set up before I approached you.”

“How did you know I wasn’t going back to one
of the other guys?”

“Chrissy is a font of information.”

“You did your homework.”

“I’m a thorough kind of guy.” He grinned at
her as he pulled into the driveway. A young man stepped forward to
take the car keys. Johnny explained to the valet that there were no
keys and how to start the car.

He put his hand on Dorrie’s lower back and
escorted her inside.

“I forget that people park other people’s
cars out here.”

“You’re such a New Yorker.”

“Damn straight.”

The maître d’ showed them to a quiet table
in the back. The restaurant had cream-colored walls. Sheer,
floor-to-ceiling drapes were held gracefully by satin, corded
tie-backs. Molding on the ceiling was painted a dark rose color.
Tablecloths were pink with cream-and-pink, flower print, cloth
napkins. There was an air of old-fashioned elegance about the
place. In fact, if she didn’t know for sure she was in L.A., she’d
think she was in New York.