Dance to the Piper (18 page)

Maddy snorted. "Who'd believe you?"

"Everybody. 'Cause you won't be there."

Maddy lunged off the bench and began to drag a brush through her hair. "Look, why don't you lay off?"

"Because I like your face."

Wanda only grinned when Maddy scowled at her. "I'm just too tired to go, that's all."

"Bull. I've been rehearsing with you for weeks now. You don't get tired."

Maddy let the brush clatter into the sink. In the reflection, her eyes met Wanda's. "I'm tired tonight."

"You're sulking tonight."

"I'm not—" Yes, she was, she admitted silently. "He'll be there," she blurted out. "I don't—I just don't think I can handle it."

The saucy look was replaced by concern. Wanda rose to drape an arm around Maddy's shoulder. "Hit hard?"

"Yeah." Maddy pressed her fingers between her eyes. "Real hard."

"Had a good cry yet?"

"No." She shook her head, fighting for composure. "I didn't want to be any more of a fool than I already was."

"You're a fool if you don't cry it out." Wanda tugged her back to the bench. "Sit down here and put your head on Wanda's shoulder."

"I didn't think it would hurt so bad," Maddy managed as the tears started to fall.

"Who does?" Keeping her voice quiet, Wanda patted her arm. "If we knew how bad it can be, we wouldn't come within ten feet of a man. But we keep going back, because sometimes it's the best there is."

"It stinks."

"To high heaven."

"He's not worth crying over." She wiped the back of her hand over her cheek.

"Not one of them is. Except, of course, the right one."

"I love him, Wanda."

Wanda carefully drew back far enough to study Maddy's face. "The real thing?"

"Yeah." She didn't bother to wipe the tears away again. "Only he doesn't love me back. He doesn't even want me to love him. Somehow I always thought when I got hit the other person would get hit, too, and we'd go on to happy-ever-after. Reed doesn't even think love exists."

"That's his problem."

"No, it's mine, too, because I've been trying for days and days to get over him and I can't." She drew in a deep breath. There would be no more tears. "So you see why I can't go tonight."

"Hell, no. I see why you have to go."

"Wanda—"

"Look, honey, go home and bury your head in the sand and you're going to feel the same way tomorrow." When she spoke again, there was a toughness in her voice that made Maddy's spine straighten. "What do you do when an audience freezes up on you and sits there like a bunch of mummies?''

"I want to go stomp off to my dressing room."

"But what do you do?"

Maddy sighed and brushed her hands over her damp face. "I stand onstage and sweat it out."

"And that's what you have to do tonight. And if I'm any judge of men, he's going to be doing some sweating of his own. I saw the way he watched you when he and his old man came to rehearsal. Come on, let's get started. We've got to get dressed."

Maddy revved herself up to see Reed again the same way she revved herself up to face an audience. She told herself she knew her lines, she knew her moves, and if she made a mistake she'd cover it before anyone noticed. She chose a strapless dress that hugged her hips and draped sensuously down her body and was slit up the side to the middle of her thigh. If she was going to flop, she was going to look great doing it.

Still, as she stood in front of Edwin Valentine's imposing front door, she had to talk herself out of turning around and running for cover.

Setting her chin, she knocked. She was prepared to face him again. She was prepared to act casual and cool. The one thing she wasn't prepared for was the possibility that Reed would open the door himself. She stared at him, astonished at how much emotion could churn inside the human body.

He wondered why his fingers hadn't simply crushed the faceted glass knob he gripped as he looked at her.

"Hello, Maddy."

"Reed." She wouldn't smile. It simply wasn't possible just yet. But she wouldn't collapse at his feet, either. "I hope I'm not early."

"No. As a matter of fact, my father's been waiting for you."

"Then I'll go say hello right away." The blare of a trumpet pealed out from down the hall. "I take it the party's down there." She skirted around him, ignoring the knot in her stomach.

"Maddy."

Bracing herself, she looked carelessly over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"Are you… how have you been?"

"Busy." The bell rang behind him, and she lifted a brow. "It looks like you've got your hands full, too. See you later." She walked blindly down the hall, blinking furiously to clear her vision.

The party was in full swing. Maddy stepped into it and allowed herself to be caught up in the good feelings, the excitement and the camaraderie. She exchanged a few quick, careless embraces and fended of a more intimate one from a member of the brass section.

"I was beginning to think you'd backed out." Wanda, who'd been talking to one of the musicians, came up beside her, a jerk of her head sending the horn player on his way.

"Nope. Nobody can call an O'Hurley a coward."

"Might help you to know that the younger Valentine has been watching the door for the last half hour."

"He has?" She started to turn around, to look for him, then stopped herself. "No, it doesn't matter. Let's have a drink. Champagne?"

"Yeah, Mr. Valentine's a real sport. You know, he's a nice man." Wanda took a glass of champagne and downed it in one shot. "Not stuffy. He acts as though we're real people."

"We are real people."

"Don't spread that around." A slow gleam came into Wanda's eyes as she looked over Maddy's shoulder. "There's Phil. I've decided to let him convince me he has serious intentions. Not necessarily
honorable"
she added as her smile widened. "Just serious."

"Phil?" Interested, Maddy eyed the dancer who played Wanda's partner. "Well, does he?"

"Maybe, maybe not." Wanda grabbed another glass of champagne. "The fun's in finding out."

Wishing she could agree, Maddy turned to the buffet table where groups of hungry dancers crowded together. Eat, drink and be merry, she told herself. For tomorrow we go to Philadelphia.

"Maddy."

Before she could choose between the pate and the quiche, Edwin came up behind her.

"Oh, Mr. Valentine. What a great party."

"Edwin," he corrected, as he took her hand and kissed it in a courtly gesture that made her smile. "It has to be Edwin if you're going to give me the dance you promised."

"Then it's Edwin, and it will be my pleasure." With a hand on his shoulder, she moved into step with him. "I got in touch with my parents," she began. "They're in New Orleans, but they're going to make it for opening night in Philly. I was hoping you'd be there."

"Wouldn't miss it. You know, Maddy, this play is the best thing I've done for myself in years. I thought it was time I let myself grow old, you know."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"You're so young.'' He patted the back of her waist where his hand guided her. "When you come up on sixty, you look around and say to yourself, okay, it's time to slow down now. You've earned it. You should relax and enjoy your waning years."

"Waning years." She tossed her hair back and grinned at him. "Phooey."

"Well, that's about it." He chuckled down at her, and she wondered why Reed hadn't inherited those kind, dark eyes. "After I'd retired, I realized I wanted a bit more than eighteen holes every Wednesday. I needed youth around me, their vitality. Reed's always kept me young, you know. As much my best friend as my son. A man couldn't do any better."

"He loves you very much."

Something in her tone had him glancing down. "Yes, he does. I wanted to give him a chance with the business without me banging around, poking into things. He's done well. More than well," he said with a sigh. "Reed's put his whole life into the business. Maybe that's a mistake."

"He doesn't think so."

"No? I wonder. Well, in any case, until this play came along I didn't know what the hell I was going to do with myself. Now I think I found out."

"Broadway fever?"

"Exactly." Somehow he'd known she would understand him. He could only hope she would understand his son, as well. "Once this play's established, I'm going to hunt myself up another. I figure I've got myself an expert whose opinion I can ask for and trust."

She saw the question in his eyes and nodded slowly. "If you want to play angel, Edwin, I'll be glad to play devil's advocate."

"I knew I could count on you. I've been around entertainers all my life, Maddy. Made my living off them. That kind of punch just can't be replaced with a golf ball." He gave her a quick, companionable pat. "Let's get you something to eat."

A glance at the buffet table had her sighing. "My hero."

The music changed from mellow to manic as three members of the cast jumped together to belt out a medley of Broadway hits. It didn't take long for Phil to pull Wanda stage center for an impassioned
pas de deux.
The chorus of cheers turned quickly into a challenge of champions as another couple swirled out.

"Come on, Maddy," Terry said, taking her by the hand. "We can't let them show us up."

"Sure we can," Maddy told him, and reached for the pate again.

"No. We've got a reputation to uphold. Remember the number from
Within Reach
?"

"That was the biggest bomb I ever rode into the ground."

"So the play stunk," he said easily. "But the dances we had together were terrific. We got the only good reviews. Come on, Maddy, for old time's sake."

He tugged on her arm and grinned. Unable to resist, Maddy went into a series of pirouettes that ended with them caught close. The few dancers who recognized the moves went into a round of applause.

It was a slow, seductive number with long moves and extended holds that took perfect timing and muscle control. The routine came back to her, as though she'd rehearsed it that afternoon, rather than four years before. The file simply clicked open, and her body remembered.

She felt Terry brace for the lift
and plied
to help him. With the trust of dancer for dancer, she arched back until her hair nearly swept the rug.

Then she was laughing and bouncing back into his arms from the sheer fun of it. "Maybe it wasn't such a bomb," she said breathlessly.

"Baby, it was atomic." Then he gave her a friendly pat on the rump as the music changed tempo and other dancers merged together.

Reed was watching her. When her gaze was drawn to his, Maddy felt the heat rise to her skin along with wishes and regrets. Thinking only of escape, she turned and went through the doors onto the terrace.

The air was hot and sultry there, as if it bounced off the pavement and rose up. Maddy leaned on the banister and gave in to it. She absorbed the noise, the movement and the life of the city beneath her. She could need, she could wish, but she wouldn't regret. Steadying herself, Maddy drew on the strength she'd been born with. She wouldn't regret.

She knew Reed had stepped onto the terrace behind her before he spoke. It had been wrong of her to think of running, to think of hiding in her apartment. He was still what she wanted, like it or not.

"Tell me if you'd rather I go."

It was so like him, she thought, to lay the choices out front. She turned and let herself look at him. "No, of course not."

He curled his hands into his pockets. "Are you generous with everyone, Maddy, or most particularly with me?"

"I don't know. I've never thought about it."

He walked over to the railing, wanting to be just a bit closer. "I've missed seeing you."

"I'd hoped you would." The stars were out and the moon was full. She had that to hold on to, at least. "I was going to come here tonight and be very cool, very breezy. I don't seem to be able to carry it off."

"I watched you dance with my father, and you know what occurred to me?" When she shook her head, he reached out, compelled to touch her, even just a wisp of her hair. "You've never danced with me."

She turned just enough to study his profile. "You've never asked me."

"I'm asking now." He held out his hand, again leaving the choice up to her. She set hers in it without a second thought. They moved together until they were one shadow on the terrace floor. "When you left last week, I thought it was for the best."

"So did I."

He brushed his cheek over her hair. "There hasn't been a day that I haven't thought of you. There hasn't been a day that I haven't wanted you." Slowly, when he felt no resistance, he lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips were as warm and welcoming as always. Her body fit to his as though fate had fashioned her for him, or him for her. The longings that raced through him brought on a panic he rigidly fought down. "Maddy, I want you to come back."

"I want that, too." She lifted her hands to his cheeks. "But I can't."

He gripped her wrists as panic grew. "Why?"

"Because I can't keep to your terms, Reed. I can't stop myself from loving you, and you won't let yourself love me."

"Damn it, Maddy, you're asking for more than I can give."

"No." She stepped a little closer, and her eyes were bright and direct. "No, I'd never ask for more than you were capable of giving, any more than I can give you any less. I love you, Reed. If I came back, I couldn't stop telling you. You couldn't stop backing away from it."

"I want you in my life." Desperation made his hands tense on her. "Isn't that enough?"

"I wish I knew. I want to be part of your life. I want you to be part of mine."

"Marriage? Is that what you want?" He spun away to lean on the rail. "What the hell is marriage, Maddy?"

"An emotional commitment between two people who promise to do their best."

"For better or for worse." He turned back then, but his face was in shadow and she could only read his voice. "How many of them last?"

"Only the ones that people work hard enough at, I suppose. Only for the ones that care enough."