Being Hartley (23 page)

Another fifteen minutes or so passes
, and Rory's energy really starts to flag. I'm starting to get worried about her when Sonja speaks over the music. "For goodness sake, go and get something to eat."

Allie and I stop what we're doing.
"Did you want me to go and get you something?" I say to Rory. "It wouldn't take long. I'll run."

Everyone stares at me now.

"Well, you look like you've got a bit of that Hartley get up and go I'm after," Sonja says to me, from across the room.

"I, um…" I'm sorry I spoke now.

"I've been watching you over there in that corner. Why don't you come over here for a minute?" She beckons me to her with a wave of her hand.

Reluctantly, I start
toward Sonja. As I pass by Rory and Noah, I give them both "save me" looks. Whatever Sonja wants, I have a feeling it can't be good.

"Yes?" I say when I get to her.

"Take a seat, Rory." Sonja pulls out a chair from beside the wall. "Thea's going to take your place for a moment."

-
26
-

"You're not serious?" I say.
I glance down at Rory, who's now sitting in the chair that Sonja's provided, then back up at Sonja again, who's smiling that scary smile at me.

"Very much so!
You danced so beautifully with Noah the other day, I thought it might be nice for you both to get together again. There's certainly chemistry there. It must be a Hartley thing. You're a good match."

My heart is beating madly in my chest now, but the weird thing is, it's different this time.
Different from the other day, when Noah had asked me to dance with him and it had been beating like crazy in anticipation. Now it's beating out a different tune in my body. One that's making my gut slightly queasy and also annoyed that I didn't listen to it earlier and bolt like it had told me to do. I check Rory's expression, but I don't care what it looks like, I already know what my answer is.

"No," I say, shaking my head.
"I don't think so."

"It's okay, Thea." Rory looks up at me briefly.
She seems generally over life. "I don't mind. Whatever she wants." She flips a hand at Sonja, who gives her a cool stare in return.

"See?" Sonja's attention moves back to me.
"There's no problem."

But there is.
And it's with me. Every single cell in my body feels confused. Here I am, standing in a dance studio, being asked to partner up with Noah Hoffman and dance some hot new choreography. And I want to say no. It's not really in my make-up to say no to dancing with Noah Hoffman. But I'm going to. Because it just doesn't feel right to say yes. Noah doesn't look too impressed with Sonja's suggestion, either. And I don't think it's anything to do with dancing with me again.

"I'm not…comfortable with that."
I'm not even sure where to look now, so I stare at a spot on the floor and mumble my words.

"Are we going to keep going, or not?" the choreographer speaks up.
He hasn't spoken much during this session, but when he has, I can see why he's Sonja's best buddy. He's almost as rude and obnoxious as she is.

"Noah, Thea, please.
It's fine," Rory says.

My eyes meet hers then
, and I see how truly worn out she looks. I also see that she knows why I'm protesting. But right now, she doesn't have the fight in her to take Sonja on. She only wants this problem to go away as soon as possible. "Just do it. For me. Both of you."

So, I do.

I dance with Noah Hoffman. For a third time. But, this time, even though the conditions are excellent—we have a beautiful semi-sprung floor, a wide wall of mirrors, a world-class choreographer, and
SMD
's producer instructing us—somehow it's not nearly the same. There's not the fun and the spontaneous laughter we had the first time, at the Bellagio fountain. There's not the connection we felt yesterday, during the audience participation segment of the live show as we fed off each other's energy. This time, it's plain hard work—the choreographer counting, us sweating, and a kind of nervousness about being watched.

It's hard work, but Sonja's right about one thing
—there's something there, between the two of us. And it's not the hot moves. We could be doing the chicken dance, and it would still be there. It's chemistry. I've only ever felt it with a few people I've danced with over the years, but with Noah, it's instantaneous, like flicking a switch. And it's the strongest I've ever felt it, by far. As we dance, I can feel Noah watching me, checking to see if I'm okay. But I can't meet his eye, because if I do, I don't think I'll be able to get through this. I've just got to do what needs to be done for Rory's sake and then get out.

Allie and I had been working on several moves at the back of the room, as well as observing Rory and Noah, so it doesn't take me long to get up to speed.
After our third run-through, I've actually got most of the routine down, to my surprise. As we keep going, Rory watches, her face blank.

"Nice," Sonja says, seeming unimpressed, even though Noah and I have just worked our guts out for her.
We stop now and take a breather. "But it needs a lot more work to be even close to the standard we're looking for on the new show."

"A lot more," the choreographer seconds. As I contemplate his words, I get this weird feeling I'm being introduced to what my mom, Rory, Noah
, and Asher have all been gabbing about. I start to imagine Rory's day-to-day—working long, hard hours with people she can't stand who only want the best out of her professionally and the worst for her personally.

I check out Rory one more time.
"Well. I think that might be enough," I say. "Rory looks a bit better now."

Sonja shrugs slightly.
"Your call."

I realize then that it is my call.
"Good," I say, firmly. "Thanks, Noah," I say to him, and he squeezes my arm gently before letting me go, and I know he understands. "It was fun." I walk over to Rory and give her a hand up from her chair. "Rory, he's all yours again."

"Thanks," Rory says, flatly.

"You okay?" I lean in to her, whispering.

She doesn't really meet my eye, but takes her place beside Noah once more
, and I return to Allie, who's been watching the goings-on the whole time. "So, that was intense," she says to me, her voice low, when I return.

"Intense is the word," I agree, thinking it really was.
The high of dancing with Noah, the low of doing it in place of Rory. There probably isn't a better word for it.

* * *

After another fifteen minutes or so of Sonja hassling Rory, she finally gives up and calls the practice session to a close. "You've got a bit over an hour before you're due in the green room," she tells them. "Have a quick shower, and there'll be lunch waiting for you down there. You need to eat something light before the performance. Thea, Tilly…" she nods at us both, at the back of the room. And then she's gone, the choreographer following in her wake.

"They've got to be doing that name thing on purpose." Allie stares after her.
"Got to be."

"Count yourself lucky you're not on her radar, Allie," Noah says, going over to pick up his towel.
"Trust me, life's better that way."

"You know something?" Allie replies.
"I believe you. She can 'Tilly' me all she likes."

Allie and I grab our stuff and make our way over to Rory, who's dabbing at her neck with her towel, absentmindedly.
"Rory, how are you doing? Do you feel a bit better now?" I ask her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Mmm, fine," she says, wiping her face, which looks pretty pale.

"Let's go get you something to eat," I say, worried about her. "Anything in particular you want?"

"No, it's okay." She lowers her towel
, and then crouches down, busying herself with her bag on the floor. "I'll get something."

"Well, we're going upstairs," Allie says.
"For a shower."

"Great.
I'll be up there in ten minutes or so," Rory replies, not really making eye contact.

Standing above her, I glance over at Allie and shrug slightly.
Allie mirrors my gesture.

"I'll see you at the show, then," I tell Rory.
"See you there, too, Noah," I call out, waving at him.

"Will do!" he calls back.
"Maybe we can catch up tonight?"

Beside me, Allie gives me a surreptitious nudge.
"Um, sure," I say, shooting her a "Don't make a big deal out of this, it's neither the time nor the place" look. "That would be good." I grab Allie's arm then, before she can say anything, or do anything to really embarrass me. I know she's more than capable of it. "Come on, you." I hustle her out of the room.

I wait until we're down the corridor, at the elevator, to ask Allie my question. "Do you think Rory's okay?
She was acting a bit odd in there."

"I think she's trying to get through this last show any way she can," Allie says.
"Then the two-week break starts."

"And then the new-look show," I say with a grimace.

Allie wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, but I think she's really holding out for that break. She's been trying not to think about the new-look show too much yet."

"I think she got a pretty nasty introduction from Sonja back there."

The elevator dings open, and Allie and I step in, swipe one of our room cards, and press our floor button. "It's not going to be pretty, no doubt about it," Allie agrees. "So we'd better make sure her two weeks off are spectacular."

* * *

I take my time puttering around the suite, eating some cheese and crackers and an apple, taking a shower, and blow-drying my hair. It isn't until I'm hovering over a choice of two outfits that I realize the time—almost an hour and a half has passed, and Allie and I will need to be making our way downstairs for the show soon.

I quit messing around then, throw on some skinny jeans, a blue tank top
, and a thin blue wrap top. And I'm smoothing on some tinted moisturizer when I get the text from Allie.

Bad. Very bad. Rory missing again.

I freeze for a second, holding my breath, before I start texting back. Then I realize I'm being stupid, ditch the text and simply call Allie.

"What's going on?" I say quickly.

"She's not in our suite. We've called there twice and been up twice as well," Allie tells me. "And she's not downstairs in the green room. I've got a bad feeling about this, Thea."

Me too, I think, remembering how Rory had been acting just before Allie and I left her.

"Dad's gone searching for her. We're covering for her for the moment, but she should have been in the green room fifteen minutes ago."

I take a deep breath.
"Okay, um…where's Asher?"

"She's definitely not with him.
He's out on some weird photo shoot this afternoon in the desert. But Dad did tell me that's where she was last time. That's where she went—to see him at school. It was Asher who convinced her she needed to call Dad and go home."

"Okay. Um, what about Noah?"

"Green room. Where he should be. And I've done everything. Texted. Called. Her cell's turned off, I think. We have to find her, Thea. Dad is losing it. And if she bails on this show—on a live show—that'll be it. There's no coming back from that."

I get this sinking feeling in my gut that maybe this is exactly what Rory is planning on doing.
Watching her in that practice session this afternoon—one thing had been obvious. There was no joy in what she was doing. No joy whatsoever. And Rory had always been such a joyful dancer. She was the perfect choice for
SMD—
someone who made you want to get up and join in, because she always seems like she's having the time of her life. Well, she wasn't anymore. And it looked like, this trip, Sonja had pushed her that bit too far. Hurting Allie, throwing the new-look show in her face, forcing me to dance with Noah.

She'd had enough.

And, in this moment, I see exactly what my mom has been trying to protect me from for all these years. This is exactly the kind of hurt she didn't want me to experience. This is why she fled the Hartley life at seventeen and made up her own way of doing things.

But the thing is, while I know all of this, there's something else
—something that's bothering me. "Allie, this isn't right," I say. "I don't think Rory would do this again. Not after last time."

"I know.
That's what I thought, too."

I bite my lip.

"Okay," I finally say, trying to think fast. Where could she be? Even if something is wrong, we still need to find her. "I'll take the pool area. You go see if she's been to any of the restaurants."

-
27
-

"That's it, then," Uncle Erik ends the call on his cell.
"They've pulled José, and Mara has taken Rory's place, partnering Noah. Needless to say, Sonja's furious. She's called a meeting for tonight. With, or without, Rory." He huffs. "I just can't believe she'd do this to me. To all of us. After what happened…I'm so disappointed."

Mom and I stare at him silently as the words sink in.
We're next to the pool, which feels odd, because the background is full of laughter, splashing, chattering, good times, and fancy drinks complete with paper umbrellas and maraschino cherries dangling off them.

Eventually, I speak up.
"I can't get a hold of Dad. His cell's turned off, I think."

"There's nothing Rob could do anyway," Uncle Erik tells me.

"Well, there might be something I can do. I'm going to make a few calls," Mom says. "I've got this great entertainment lawyer who…"

"We've got a lawyer," Uncle Erik cuts her off.

"Well, this one's even scarier than Sonja," Mom says. "She's worth a try." She whips out her cell now and is onto Deb in seconds, asking her for the lawyer's details.

"And what are we supposed to do?" I look to Uncle Erik for guidance.

But Uncle Erik just shakes his head at us both and sighs. "We wait."

* * *

After Mom finishes talking to the lawyer, we set up camp in our suite, and Allie and Uncle Erik in theirs, in case Rory tries either place.

And then, like Uncle Erik said, we wait.

Mom and I pace the suite, tidy up a bit, make mugs of chamomile tea, flip through magazines, and change channels on the TV half-heartedly. Every time we hear even the tiniest noise in the hall outside, we jump and run over to look through the peephole.

By six thirty, we're starting to get pretty worried.
"Only two hours until the meeting." Mom stares at her watch for a moment and bites her bottom lip. "I wish the lawyer could have gotten here. Bunny's amazing. But she's also very busy."

"Bunny?"

Mom shrugs. "I know. I think maybe it's to put the competition off, because she's certainly no meek white and fluffy number. Still, even if she's not here, she'll work something out in days. You watch. Now, should we order something to eat before we go?"

"I don't really feel like it," I tell her.

"No, me either," my mom agrees. "Another tea?"

"Okay."
I don't really want that, either, but anything to pass the time.

My mom is carrying the fresh mugs of tea into the living room when there's a knock on the door.
"Oh, my," she says, as she jolts and tea sloshes out of the mugs and onto the carpet.

"It's Rory," I say, jumping up and running to the door.
"It's got to be." I race over and fling the heavy door open wide.

But it isn't, it's Dad.

"Dad!" I stare at up him. "What are you doing here?"

"Not pleased to see your old man?" he says, grinning at me.
"Where's my kiss?" He points to one cheek and bends down.

I do the dutiful daughter thing and kiss his stubbly cheek, noticing that he looks kind of worn out.

"Rob? Is that really you?" Mom appears, wiping away some tea she's spilled on her jeans with a dishcloth. "What are you doing here?"

"That's why your cell's been going to voicemail.
You were on a plane." I'd been trying to call Dad all afternoon.

"I thought I'd surprise you.
I managed to wind things up early. I had the feeling I might be needed here. Just don't go and see that particular movie when it comes out. It's going to be a stinker."

"Perfect timing as always!" Mom comes over to give Dad a big hug.
"I'd say we could have our vacation now, but I don't think that's going to happen."

"So Allie tells me," Dad says.
"I called her from the plane. I thought I should go straight to the source to see what's going on in Vegas. Still no sign of Rory?" He looks concerned.

Mom and I both shake our heads.
"Come on." Mom waves him in. "We were just making…"

The elevator doors ping open as she speaks
, and the sudden rush of noise that belches from inside makes all three of us turn and stare. We watch in silence as four EMTs spring from the elevator, run straight past us, and down the corridor.

And they don't stop until they get to Uncle Erik's suite.

* * *

We drop everything and race after the EMTs.
But before we can get to Uncle Erik's suite, a security guy appears from the stairwell and takes charge of the door. He uses a key card to let the EMTs in, but when Mom goes to walk inside after them, he puts a hand across the door.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't let anyone in right now."

"Erik?" Mom stands on her toes to see over his arm as the door slowly closes. "Erik? Allie!" she calls out. There's a click as the door locks shut. "What's going on?" she turns to the security guard, towering over him. "I want to know right now."

"Cass." Dad steps forward, taking her arm.
"Let's just stand back for a minute. And keep calm."

"I will not keep calm!
I am here specifically to look after my niece, and I want to know what's going on in there right this very second!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am.
I don't know what's going on. I'm here to let the EMTs in and watch the door."

"Ugh!" Mom shakes her head with frustration.

"Thea." Dad glances over at me.

"I'm on it," I say, already texting Allie, instead of calling.
She might not be able to take a call considering what's going on inside the suite. Her answer comes back within seconds.

Unbelievable. Rory okay. Dad will be out in a second.

I hold my cell out so everyone can read it.

"Unbelievable?" Mom says.
"What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Dad answers.
"But she's okay. And I take it, inside."

After another moment or two, the door to the suite opens a crack
, and Uncle Erik appears. "It's just you?" he asks, and we tell him it is. He opens the door wider. "Quick, into the entry. I don't want anyone else getting wind of this."

The three of us pile into the entryway.
"Erik!" Mom says, as soon as the door's shut again. "What on earth is going on?"

It's only then that we finally see Uncle Erik is white as a sheet.
And also a bit wobbly on his feet.

"Erik, are you all right?" Dad steps forward.
He pulls out a small upholstered stool that's tucked under the long dresser that runs down the length of the short entryway. "Here, sit down."

Uncle Erik does what he's told and sits down.
But after he's settled, it's like he can't move. In front of us, as odd noises drone on in the background—voices, and lots of them—he opens his mouth, then closes it again.

In the end, Mom has to crouch down to his level and look him straight in the eye.
"Erik," she says. "What's happening? We need to know."

"She's okay," he finally says, staring at the opposite wall.
"She was in our room the whole time. She was in her bathroom—in the bath. She fainted. She was there the whole time, and we didn't know. She could have drowned. I was sitting there, right in the lounge, angry with her, and she needed me, and I didn't know. First Allie and now…this. Both my girls. I could have lost both my girls."

Mom glances up at Dad and me, speechless.
Whatever we were expecting, it wasn't this.

"How could I not know that?"
Uncle Erik shakes his head in the dim light of the hallway, tears dripping down his cheeks that he doesn't even bother wiping away. "How could I think the worst?"

Mom glances down the hallway, then reaches forward to grab her brother's hand. "Where is she?"

"She's in her room. She looks…fine. The show's doctor got here first, then the hotel's doctor, and now the EMTs are checking her over. Asher just arrived. And Allie's here, of course."

"I don't understand," I say, looking down at Mom and Uncle Erik.
"Did she hit her head? What happened?"

Uncle Erik takes a deep, shuddery breath.
"She said she ran herself a hot bath and was in there for a bit, then decided to get some bath gel. I think she stood up and the heat…her blood pressure must have dropped. She said she remembers going to sit back down, but she must have fainted then. I think she must have drifted in and out of consciousness because she says she remembers calling out a couple of times and hearing her cell ring, but that must have been when we were running around looking for her."

"Oh!" I put my hand up to my mouth.
"She was hungry. I was going to get her something to eat, but she told me she'd get it herself. And she didn't. That's why she fainted. That and the hot bath."

"It's pure luck.
Luck that she didn't fill the bath too high, that it was turned off, that she didn't hit her head. Only luck."

Mom fishes around in her pocket and pulls out a tissue.
Then she kneels to move in beside Uncle Erik and wipes his tears away. "Oh, Erik. You must have had the fright of your life. I can't even imagine." Without looking at me, her free arm reaches back, searching for mine, and I take it and hold on tight.

* * *

By the time we get Uncle Erik back up onto his feet and enter the living area of his suite, Rory is sitting on the couch next to Asher, obviously back from his shoot. She's wrapped in a blanket and eating toast. When she sees us, she waves. "I'm all about the drama," she says, indicating the four EMTs,
SMD
's Dr. Morgan, and some other guy who must be the hotel's doctor or something, because he also has a stethoscope. "If you're finished with me, I think my poor Dad may need some resuscitating." She looks up at him. "Sorry, Dad."

I look over at Uncle Erik, who my mom is sitting down with at the table now.
He actually looks worse than Rory, the poor guy. If it's anyone who's going to need that two-week break, it's him.

As I pass by him on my way to Rory, I squeeze his shoulder
, and he catches my hand and squeezes it back. Then I go over to give Rory a hug. "You should have eaten something," I scold her.

"I know."
She gives me a kiss on my cheek then waves a bit of toast at me and then at Dad. "I am now. This is my fourth piece. Hi, Rob. Thanks for joining the party."

Dad just chuckles and shakes his head.
"Good to see you alive, kiddo."

"It's good to be alive."

"You're really okay? She's really okay?" I look up at the traveling hospital.

"Her blood pressure was low, but it's picked right up now," one of the EMTs says.

"I'd still advise a CT scan," Dr. Morgan adds.

The hotel's doctor looks over at him, surprised, "There's really no need," he says, "but it's up to you."

"For legal reasons," Dr. Morgan nods, looking around the room.

"Oh, please, I'm not going to irradiate myself unnecessarily so you can feel legally secure," Rory tells him.
"And I didn't faint because I'm on drugs, or pregnant, either, before you ask me to pee in a jar again. Now get out."

"Rory," Uncle Erik says, weakly, but all the fight seems to be gone from him.

"No, I'm not going to be quiet," Rory says, obstinately. "I didn't hit my head. I fainted, and then I think I actually fell asleep when I couldn't get out of the bath. I'm fine. I've had something to eat, and now I'm going to that meeting Allie just told me about."

"Rory, I don't think that's a good idea," my mom says, going over to her.
"It might be a bit much for you right now."

"No, I want to go," Rory replies, looking up at her.
"Suddenly, a whole lot of things have become very clear to me. I've…reorganized a few of my priorities." She glances over at Asher as she says this.

"You don't need to go, honey," Mom says.
"I've lined up a fabulous lawyer for you. She'll sort everything out for you and eat Sonja alive in the process."

Rory frowns.
"But what about Martin?"

Martin was Rory's lawyer and had been since her first contract with
Saturday Morning Kids
. He was really sweet, and we'd met him a couple of times at family parties.

Mom sighs.
"Honey, Martin is lovely, but this is out of his league."

"He's so nice, though. I can't…"

"Rory," Asher cuts in. "Right now, you need a lawyer, not a friend. And Martin will understand that."

My mom agrees with him.
"And I think you need an agent as well. It's time for your father to retire."

Rory glances over at him.
"Dad's always managed me!" But then she takes another look at her father, sitting there, silent, at the dining room table. "Actually, you might be right. I think I've driven him into the ground."