Siobhan's Beat (11 page)

What an interlude—what a man. He had efficiently eased all the pressure that had built in her soul over the past few months.

Yet he had awakened all new ones.

She looked at the sterling silver band that encircled the ring finger of her right hand. Purity most certainly wasn't easy, nor was it for the faint of spirit. She needed reinforcement. Fast.

She speed-dialed Aileen.

 

****

 

What a mistake.

Nobody, but nobody, could call out Siobhan like her best friend. She should have considered the ramifications of coming clean. Obviously, there would be an inquisition. Of course, there would be pushes and nudges and difficult questions to be answered about a certain captivating doctor.

“I have to admit, I'm thoroughly enjoying every single moment of this budding romance, Siobhan.” True to form, once Siobhan detailed the circumstances of the hours she had spent with AJ, Aileen cut straight to the chase. “Throughout this whole ordeal you've asked one very important question. Why? Why would God allow this to happen? Well, think about it. How else would you have met him? Oh, sure, he lives in Westerville, and your paths could have crossed just like they did at the grocery store, but most likely you would have just smiled, nodded, and exchanged a glance. Maybe you would have felt a twinge—a silent, hopeful urge—but I'll bet nothing more would have come of it.”

Siobhan huffed, growled then collapsed in an overdone bit of drama, sinking onto a deep, comfy cushion of the couch. Sunlight poured into the room through sheers that covered the expansive, floor to ceiling window in the living area of Aileen's apartment.

“You've asked how goodness could come from the trials you've endured.” Finished wearing a path in the floorboards, Aileen joined her, folding against the side of the couch and tucking in her legs. “Seems to me like AJ just might be the answer. God brought you together. God brought a connection to life.”

From our bleakest points, God brings joy.

AJ's observation came back to Siobhan. Aileen was right.

That didn't mean Siobhan had to admit it easily, though. “Ailee, your romantic imaginings are running away with you. I barely know the guy, and you've got delusions of grandeur.”

“Really? Am I that far off the mark?” She shrugged delicately. “Sounds to me like you've spent considerable time of late getting to ‘know-the-guy.' And, excuse me, but aren't the two of you sharing dinner and a movie tonight as well?”

“That's not even the point.” Siobhan gulped.

“Oh. OK. Then you have all my apologies.” Aileen's smirk cut all kind of holes into Siobhan's worthless attempts at refusing a burgeoning truth. Like it or not, her heart was falling into the hands of AJ Cooper.

“You didn't used to be so cruel.”

Aileen reacted to that snipe by giving a snort and another pretty little shrug.

“Know what, Ailee? I'm a mess.” Siobhan croaked the words. “He makes my throat go dry. He makes me shiver. I don't have the time or energy for…for
him…
for
romance
! No. I just can't let it happen. I need to focus. I need to recover. I need to dance with my three best friends!” The timbre of her voice escalated with each decree.

“Hmm. Do I detect even more
sparks
and spice? He has
completely
gotten under your skin. I love him already.” Aileen reached across the space between them and caught Siobhan's hand to deliver a squeeze. “And I rejoice that at least something besides the upcoming power meeting has your pulse firing. You're not quite able to be the twirling little pixie at the moment, but you're well on your way back, and you certainly are lively. Remind me to thank Doctor Wonderful for all he's done. On a number of levels.”

 

 

 

 

9

 

Siobhan's small office brimmed to overflowing. Teams representing three separate factions, gathered to witness her audition. There were reps from Ganneton Productions, Zion's Peak Records, and of course, her entire Sisters contingent.

“Miss Douglas, first of all, let me hasten to assure we're investors, not physicians. We're only here, asking this of you, because the tour being established by Zion's Peak needs to happen ASAP. Additionally, this venture requires a sizeable influx of capital. I know that might sound crass and unfeeling, but it's not meant to. Today's meeting is about the determination of realistic goals and expectations.”

Sure, it was
. Siobhan nodded politely at Cameron Franklin, the designated spokesman for Ganneton Productions. She didn't smile, nor did she cow-tow or overcompensate her position by being too solicitous or inauthentic. This episode defined the word uncomfortable, and everyone in the room understood that fact. Why act phony and pretend everything was normal? In truth, she wanted nothing more than for this interlude to end.

Home court advantage.

AJ's astute observation from a while back helped strengthen Siobhan's resolve and still her nerves. The Douglas Dance Academy was just that—her heartbeat, the end result of her passion for dance. Hands neatly folded, she sat behind the desk in her office. Before her were assembled the half dozen or so executives; meanwhile, AJ, Liam, and her friends stood behind her in a straightforward and indisputable display of solidarity and support. Admittedly ruthless about the vantage point of the reps from Zion and Ganneton, Siobhan made sure they faced that impressive canvas of her debut at Carnegie. Prideful, perhaps, but a point needed to be made.

AJ spoke first. “I'm the doctor who oversaw her hospital stay, and I've also been actively engaged in her progress through recovery. I can state with complete confidence that Siobhan Douglas will be fit to perform as soon as—”

“Those are the key words, Doctor Cooper.
Will be
.” Cameron's cut in was accompanied by a lifted hand and a steely-eyed stare. “Let's be blunt. While we feel nothing but remorse over the unavoidable set of circumstances that lead to this meeting, we also need to evaluate the upcoming tour based not on emotion, but honesty. Not a single person in this room doubts Ms. Douglas's ability to recover in full. No one here doubts her ability on stage. What comes into question is her ability to embrace the timing we require.”

The muscles in Siobhan's shoulders went tight. The point couldn't be argued.

“We appreciate the strength of your endorsement, Doctor Cooper.” Siobhan's attention bounced to Dan Ruthenbeck, CEO of Zion's Peak Records. He was Liam's boss and the visionary behind the label. “But like Cam indicates, this matter is complex and urgent in nature. We need fresh videos of Siobhan dancing in accompaniment to one of the releases. Additionally, touring is a grueling endeavor under optimum conditions, so we need to discover—”

“I might interject here that recovery and rehab are grueling endeavors as well, sir.” Siobhan shot the words like carefully aimed bullets. In deference to professionalism, her tone remained neutral, but she hoped her eyes sparked with a level of conviction she felt clear to her soul.

“Furthermore, she continues to execute her recovery regimen with wholehearted determination.” Leave it to Liam to edge forward—to protect and defend.

Siobhan's heart swelled.

“She's developing as quickly and as strongly as any professional athlete because she
is
an athlete.”

“I couldn't agree more with that analogy.” AJ's statement punched a decisive note of authority into the argument.

“Understood, gentlemen, but allow me to reiterate, this is a multi-million dollar investment.” Cameron Franklin proved relentless. “This is a full-court press. It's going to be brutal physically. It's going to be a night in and night out marathon, performing in city after city. Plus, it's the songs—the vocalization and music people respond to, not so much the dancing. We need to study Siobhan's case in terms of practicality. Frankly, I don't think she's strong enough for that degree of intensity right now, and I have the feeling potential backers will feel the same way. After all, she doesn't even sing, and other dancers could—”

Struck low, Siobhan wasn't a bit surprised by the soft gasps that came from Aileen, Kassidy, and Maeve following that belittling series of comments.

“Mr. Franklin, I have a question for you.” Aileen performed a sharp interjection. “What drives the life that lives in our body?” The tour exec shrugged, lost. “The beat of the heart. That's what Siobhan Douglas brings to our group and our performances. You're correct when you so blithely observe that she doesn't sing a note. Siobhan would be the first to admit she can't carry a tune. But the energy, the vibrant flow of her dance moves warms the stage and guides us. Siobhan provides stunning visuals. She pumps a unique fuel and vibration into each song we sing. Like the beat of a heart, you can't exist without it. Neither can we. Please, don't ever downplay the role that any one of us brings to this venture.”

“And with all due respect, allow us to be clear about something else.” This time Kassidy spoke up, resting a hand in strategic support against Siobhan's shoulder. “We've discussed the matter at length and have come to a business decision of our own. We can take or leave this entire offer. Sharing our music and our mission with the type of audience this deal will provide would be fantastic, yes, but God makes roadways regardless of outward circumstance. In other words, mess with one of us and you mess with all of us.”

Maeve concluded the moment with a sparkling, and unabashedly challenging smile to their would-be detractors. “That said, shall we allow ourselves the pleasure of watching Siobhan dance? I, for one, can't wait to see how far she's come in what we know will be a full and inspiring recovery.”

 

****

 

AJ swiped a hand against the back of his neck. A slick layer of perspiration met his touch. Round one of this long-dreaded moment was complete. Now, on to round two.

He followed the assembly across the threshold of Siobhan's office. Seldom had he come away from a meeting so thoroughly impressed. While the boardroom moved to the mirrored dance space he had shared with Siobhan scant weeks ago, he closed his eyes, fighting to remain steady. He prayed for God's hand and provision.

Dressed in a gauzy pink skirt that was tied at her waist, Siobhan wore a matching leotard and toe shoes. Using the barre for support, she alternated stretches between her left and right legs. Before the exhibition began, Aileen, Maeve, and Kassidy gathered around her in quiet conversation. AJ could only imagine the ways they encouraged and uplifted their friend.

Soon enough, attendees gathered against a far wall and waited while the quartet joined hands and bowed their heads in prayer. Then, poised and in full control, Siobhan glided to the center of the room and faced
croise derriere
, her right arm curved above her head, her left arm extended backward. Meanwhile, her left leg bore her weight and she pointed her right leg behind. Once Siobhan went still, Aileen started the music. AJ held his breath, waiting.

The piano intro from “Surrender” by Beckah Shae filled the air. From there, he watched along with everyone else. His heart lodged in his throat, and his gaze fastened upon her legs, her fast-moving feet.

Siobhan's song choice featured a driving, powerful beat and reflected redemption through submission to God. In a word, it was perfect. Siobhan moved flawlessly, like a feather caught in a soft, twirling breeze. She played to her audience—she engaged, smiled, leapt, jumped, and even performed a back and forth series of toe-work—but the entire four-minute episode left him clenching his jaw and caused his stomach to knot tight.

He recognized nuance. What he discovered disturbed him, for very deliberately Siobhan used every opportunity she could to lead with her left leg. Very deliberately she punished herself in an effort to win her way to a dream and prove a point of pride and honor.

The precious, yet utterly misguided little fool. What was she thinking?

The song concluded with a room-length series of pirouettes followed by the low, deep sweep of Siobhan's entire body. She remained rock-solid and steady, frozen into a perfect backward arc once silence reigned.

Applause rang out from everyone in the room—supporters and skeptics alike.

AJ clapped as well but focused intently on Siobhan. Were it not for his medical background and a carefully honed sense of perception he might have missed the barely noticeable list in her gait, the subtle lines that formed against the corners of her mouth despite a winsome smile and a polished, gracious demeanor.

Engulfed by a cluster of people, Siobhan pressed a hand to her stomach. She smoothly excused herself and retreated from the room. She didn't run. She wasn't awkward about leaving, but when she turned, her skin was definitely pale. She wasn't well.

AJ promptly followed making a quiet exit of his own.

He found her in the hallway just outside her office. She rested her head against the brick wall, breathing shallow, her back to AJ. He stepped behind her, forming a shield. When he touched her arm, she shivered.

“AJ…I don't feel good.”

Five simple words, spoken in a raspy whisper, became his undoing. Still, a potent shot of anger launched through his system as well. “Come with me, you need to get out of view so you can catch your balance and recover.”

Grasping Siobhan's hand, AJ tugged her gently into her office. There they could embrace some semblance of privacy. Once he closed the door, she sank against it, eyes closed, her complexion still pallid. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead.

“It was the spins. They've made me ill.”

“Given what you went through at the hospital with vertigo, and given the fact that you executed way too many repeat turns at the end of the song, when you were most expended, that development doesn't surprise me.”