Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues (25 page)

I give Mama one last lingering hug and she says, “Good luck, Abby.”

“Thanks, Mama. I’ll do my very best.”

“You always do.”

“Good luck, Rio,” Mama says quietly but then gives him a measuring look that says
you hurt my baby and there will be hell to pay
, but to his credit Rio remains unruffled.

“Thank you, Mrs. Harper,” he says and adds a warm smile. “I am quite impressed with your daughter.”

“As well you should be,” she says, inclining her head. “But thank you just the same.”

Just then Jackie comes rushing into the hall with Maggie in tow, lugging a big case of what I’m guessing is cosmetics. “Rio and Abby, hurry! We need to do hair and makeup,” Jackie says as we’re ushered over to two tall bar stools. “Maggie, take their coats.”

“Okay,” Maggie says a little irritably as she heaves the huge case down onto a table with a clunk that echoes in the hall.

“I’ll do Rio and you do Abby,” Jackie says.

“I want to do Rio,” Maggie says defiantly.

I want to do Rio, too, I think and disguise my giggle with a cough. He glances my way and of course I blush.

“Ladies,” Rio interjects smoothly, “I think you are hurting Abby’s feelings.”

All eyes turn to me, and my blush must have been interpreted as hurt feelings. Maggie glares at Jackie like it’s all her fault and starts combing out my hair. It’s all a moot point anyway because Rio is done in no time and both girls end up working on me. Finally, I’m handed a mirror.

“Wow . . .
wow
!” I blink at myself—at least I think it’s my reflection—and I swallow hard. If I didn’t know better I would have thought that the person in the mirror was somebody else. They’ve weaved extensions through my hair, making me have a blond tumble of curls piled high and then spilling down my back. My lips are tingling from some deep pink lip gloss that magically makes my mouth seem full and pouting and my eyes seem to have an exotic tilt to them and appear bluer than normal.

“Hot,” Jackie says with a satisfied nod.

“Sexy,” Maggie agrees and then turns to Rio and asks, “What do you think?”

My heart is pounding as I wait for his answer.

“I think she is going to steam up the camera lens,” he says with a grin.

I would think that he’s teasing except for the heat in his eyes, and for the first time in my life I feel confident and desirable . . .
and I like it.
Feeling sexy is fun. And I pretty much decide right then and there to quit squelching my feelings for Rio. Tonight in his room I’m going to let him know exactly how I feel about him and to quit pretending.

The photo shoot ends up being a blast. We do about a million poses, both campy and serious. Finally Rio says, “I’m sorry but we really must rehearse.”

“One more,” the cameraman insists. “I want this one to be a prelude to a kiss.”

Rio nods. “Okay,
one
more.”

“Abby, put your hand on his chest, right there in the center. That’s right. Rio, place your hand low on her back and, Abby, lean back just a bit. Now, Abby, raise your left leg. That’s right, now bend it up to graze his leg. Rio, now lean in very close and put your mouth almost but not quite on Abby’s. Awesome, now hold that pose.”

This is hard . . . not kissing him, I mean. I can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath where my palm rests on his warm skin and I’m gratified to know that he must be feeling the same way. Oh, and with his mouth a hairbreadth away from mine, nearly touching, I can feel the heat, the cool tickle of his breathing on my cheek.

“Okay, perfect,” I hear the cameraman say in a far-away voice because I’m caught up in the moment and I really want this to end with a doggone kiss. But just when I think I’m going to get my wish, Rio pulls back, leaving me standing there breathless and wanting.

I’m hoping to sneak a little smooch in during practice but there are cameras and people milling around everywhere, so that is a no-go as well and, given the sensual nature of the rumba, I’m feeling quite revved up and nowhere to go by the end of the rehearsal.

Instead of heading back up the mountain we change into street clothes and then opt to eat dinner in town since we have to be back at the dance hall for the run-through that night before the live show on Saturday.

“How about eating at Mama’s diner?” I ask Rio as we stroll through town.

“Definitely.” He nods and gives me one of his smiles that make my heart beat faster. He doesn’t smile often but when he does his face just lights up. Of course he has each and every female young and old turning to get a second look, making me want to slip my arm through his in a territorial way even though I have no real claim to him. Not that I can blame them. In his faded jeans, a black turtleneck, and aviator sunglasses, Rio deserves a second glance. His dark hair, untamed by a ponytail, is blowing in the cool breeze and he has his leather jacket flung over his shoulder in a nonchalant way and yet he oozes charisma.

We’re stopped for pictures and autographs and I can tell you that I will never get over this as long as I live. I know that my fifteen minutes of fame will be over when the show ends, so I have fun with it but this is still so surreal, especially when I enter the diner to sit down and eat like a customer.

“Abby!” Of course Mama rushes over and there is hugging galore from her, the waitresses, and others who feel compelled to come over and hug me. Pete pokes his head out of the kitchen and gives me a wave but thank goodness he’s too busy to come over for a hug. Jesse is in school so I miss getting to see him but Mama assures me that he will be at the show tomorrow.

We’re ushered over to a booth and I feel really weird having Mama waiting on us. “What’ll you have, Babycakes?” she asks me.

“Meat loaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, and corn bread.” My mouth waters at the thought.

“Oh, we’re out of meat loaf,” Mama says.

“What? Say it ain’t so!”

Rio chuckles. “I think she’s . . . how do you say? . . . pulling your leg.”

I look at Mama, and her mouth is twitching in an effort not to smile. “Mama, don’t toy with me like that.”

Rio laughs. “Good one, Mrs. Harper.” He sticks out his fists for a knuckle bump. “Abby has been dying for your meat loaf. She can’t stop talking about it. Please bring me the same.”

“You won’t be sorry,” Mama says and winks at him. “Secret recipe.” I’ve never seen Mama wink at anyone but I carefully keep my jaw from dropping. “I’ll bring you two Cherry Cokes. The real thing, mind you, not from a bottle.” She tucks her stubby pencil behind her ear and hurries off on her soft-soled shoes.

“Your mother is a very vibrant woman.”

With a nod I say, “She’s a hard worker and it’s so nice to see a little kick in her step. She’s always had energy to spare, bless her heart, but it’s wonderful to see her so happy, you know?” I swallow sudden emotion. “It’s not like her to wink or flirt. She’s always had to be pretty much all business . . . pleasant and everything but not lighthearted. It makes me realize how much living she’s given up for Jesse and me.”

Rio reaches across the table and clasps my hand. “I wouldn’t refer to it as
given up
, Abby. Don’t feel guilt for something she has freely given.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Life is unpredictable and rarely works out the way we think it will.” He shrugs. “And perhaps that would be rather boring, no?” He says this seriously but has a hint of mischief in the depths of his brown eyes. “In fact,” he begins but is interrupted by the arrival of our Cherry Cokes and meat loaf.

“Here you go,” Mama says and sets our glasses and plates down with a flourish. “Enjoy.”

“Oh, it looks wonderful! Mama, can you spare a few minutes to sit with us?”

“No, sorry. We’re backed up. But hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining! The competition has been a boon to this town. Good luck to you both. I can’t wait to see you dancin’ in your fancy outfits!”

I give Rio a look and he almost chokes on his Coke. Luckily I hadn’t taken off my coat this morning, so Mama has no idea of the skimpiness of my costume. “Why, thank you, Mama.”

When she is out of listening distance Rio says, “Think she’s gonna have a . . . what was that you said?”

“A
cow
, and yes. A big one.”

Angling his head, Rio says, “Then again, maybe not.”

“You could be right. Mama has certainly loosened up.”

I watch Rio take a bite of the meat loaf and for some reason it’s important to me that he likes it . . . stupid really, but it somehow matters.

“Delicious,” he says. “Onion, green pepper, a hint of garlic, and something else I can’t place. What would that be?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

He laughs at that old one-liner and God help me, I’m falling harder and harder for him. “I won’t tell, I promise,” he says.

I point my fork at him. “Oh no, don’t go crossing your heart and hopin’ to die.”

He gives me a confused look while buttering a slice of corn bread.

“Never mind. Just a joke I shared with Julia.”

After a drink of his Cherry Coke, he says, “Interesting that you two have become friends.”

I swallow a heavenly bite of fluffy mashed potatoes and say, “I guess it’s all part of the unpredictability of life that you were talking about, but yes, I agree.”

“This really is delicious,” Rio says as he polishes off his meat loaf.

I flush with pride but I can’t help it. “Yes, it’s a shame that little diners like this are becoming more and more rare. Now it’s all big chain restaurants and they’re good and all, but there is just something about a greasy spoon that Americans will always love.”

“Greasy spoon?”

I grin. “That’s what we call little hole-in-the-wall diners like this one. Comfort food for the soul,” I say with another bite. “The food at the lodge is good but this is where I come from.” I wave my hand in an arc and realize how much I love this place. “So, is your mama a good cook?”

Rio hesitates. “I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“We have a cook so she doesn’t prepare meals much.”

“Oh.” This surprises me but since two giggling girls wanting pictures and autographs interrupt us I can’t ask how they could have afforded a cook.

The two girls seem to have been a cue for just about everyone else to approach us but we’re more than happy to oblige. After all, these are potential voters. But after a few minutes Rio announces that we have to go back to the dance hall for dress rehearsal and the fans moan but understand. I hunt Mama down for a quick hug and we’re out the door. Rio calls the limo driver and in no time we’re back to Bluegrass Dance Hall.

Rio hasn’t mentioned me coming up to his room again but it seems to hang in the air between us, causing this sexual electricity that has my heart pounding hard even while I’m sitting here getting my makeup touched up.

“You look amazing, Abby,” Maggie gushes after fluffing and tinkering with my hair extensions.

“I have you to thank for transforming me from geek to gorgeous. I swear you’re a miracle worker.”

Maggie clicks her tongue in a tsk-tsk way. “Abby, you were gorgeous to begin with! All I did was add a touch of glamour.”

I find this compliment from spunky little Maggie heartwarming and I’m about to tell her so when she gives me one of her scowls and says, “God, I hate it when tall, gorgeous girls like you act like they need to put a bag over their head. Okay, so you have a bit of that redneck thing going on, but damn, girl, you’re
hot.
No wonder Rio can’t keep his eyes off you.”

“Really?”

While touching up my eyeliner she rolls her eyes and then says, “
Really.
Now, stop with the aw, shucks attitude and go strut your stuff.”

“ ’Kay.” Now, maybe it’s because of our heightened sexual tension or due to the confidence boost Maggie gave me or the long flowing hair attached to my head or the fringe on my outfit . . .
whatever.
But when Rio and I dance our rumba the scurrying around by the staff ceases and everyone stops to watch us dance.

After we take a bow Rio says in my ear, “That was amazing. If we dance like that tomorrow night we’ll . . .”

“Knock their socks off?” I supply when he can’t seem to find the right words.

With a laugh he leads me off the dance floor and says, “Yes, we’ll knock their socks off. Listen, I have to go back up to the lodge to do some paperwork. I will see you later, though, no?”

I nod and whisper, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

With a smile he leans in and gives me a brief kiss on the cheek. “Excellent. I will be waiting.”

Dancing in the Dark

Never in my life have I worried about the color of my underwear and now I wish I had something other than white Hanes Her Way. Don’t get me wrong, Hanes Her Way is nice and comfortable and all, but high-cut cotton briefs aren’t the sexiest panties in the world, and of course it’s all I have. If I win this thing I’m going to get me some very nice Victoria’s Secret underpants . . . I mean lingerie.

“Maybe I just won’t wear underwear,” I defiantly say to my reflection in the bathroom mirror where I’ve been standing for the past fifteen minutes. Knowing that will never fly I shake my head at myself. “Right.” Finally I tug on my jeans and soft blue sweater and decide I will just have to do. Now if only I can get my heart rate down to a not so nervous state of mind I’ll be fine. “He’s just a guy and I’m just a girl about to do what comes naturally. No big deal.”

But it is a big deal to me. Sure, we already made love in the back of his car but that was different. This time it’s planned . . . clearly thought out, something we both need and want, so it’s like taking a giant step forward in our relationship . . . a relationship that I hope will last longer than this show.

I take a deep breath and let it out, thinking that I’m about to put my heart on a platter for Rio Martin. Then I think about how my daddy’s life was cut short in the prime of his life and I just know my mama would do it all again just for the time she had with him. In other words, you really don’t know what’s around the corner so you might as well live life to the fullest.