Love's Last Chance (15 page)

“And thanks for telling Johnny.” Dorrie
flipped him the bird and hauled her suitcase out alone. She
couldn’t get away fast enough.
What a lowlife. I wouldn’t trade
places with Chrissy for anything.

She received a warm welcome from Chaz and
Megan. They shared a late dinner of cold pasta salad, and a good
Riesling. Afterward, Megan brought out homemade cookies. She and
Chaz sat on the sofa while Dorrie occupied a leather chair.

Megan narrowed her eyes and stared at
Dorrie. “Well?”

“What? Is something showing?” Dorrie checked
her clothes.

“The men. I’ve been dying to hear about the
men!” Megan continued.

“The three guys? How do you know about
them?”

“Grace Brewster and I are friends.” Meg
smiled. “When I told her you were coming, well, it sort of
naturally came out. I mean, it’s not every day you hear a story
like this one.”

“I suppose. Gracie’s a good friend. She’s
been texting me about the guys, too. What do you know?”

“She told me a long story about how you’re
checking out three guys you dumped once upon a time to see if they
were still dump-worthy. Is that a word? Or, if you wanted to
rekindle something. So, have you picked one?”

Dorrie shook her head. Chaz munched a cookie
in silence.

“Nothing’s changed…in five years?”

“Everything’s changed. And it’s all
topsy-turvy. Drake made a play for me! Can you believe it? And he’s
married to an old friend of mine.”

“Gross! What about the others?” Megan
persisted.

“The others? I don’t know. Not yet. Still
one more test for them.”

“Another test? The dates weren’t
enough?”

Dorrie shook her head.

“Glad I don’t have to compete for you, Meg.”
Chaz moved closer to his wife.

“Me, too,” she said, turning to grin at her
husband. “But the suspense is killing me, Dorrie. I need to know
whether you’re going to be East Coast or West Coast, with Archer,
Rick, or Johnny.”

Dorrie laughed. “You make it sound like a
game show! It’s my life, and I’m just as curious as you are.”

“You’ll let me know as soon as you decide,
won’t you?”

“You’ll be the first, after the guy.” Dorrie
stood up and stretched. “I brought brownies from my favorite
bakery.”

“Love brownies!” Chaz headed for the
kitchen. “Where are the little devils?”

“In the bag on the counter,” Meg called in
to him.

“How did he know?”

“What?”

“The name of the bakery?” Dorrie asked.

“He did?”

“Yep. Little Devil Bakery.” The women
laughed. Chaz entered with several bars of the delectable chocolate
confection.

“What did I do? You’re laughing already, and
I just entered the room?”

Meg pushed to her feet, took the plate and
placed it on the coffee table. “Nothing, babe. Here.” She broke off
a piece and fed it to Chaz, who took it eagerly.

“Fantastic!” He took his own and sat back,
slipping his arm around Meg’s shoulders. Dorrie took one as well.
As her teeth sank into the luscious gooey cake, relief flooded her
body.
To get out of Drake’s house. Whew. I love it here. Nice
married couple, who truly love each other.
Quiet all around
told of the quality of the chocolaty goodie.

Now, it’s time for step two in this
process. Time to reveal the New York job offer and see if anyone
bites.
Her smile dissolved into a small frown as she chewed.
What if none of the men wanted her in New York on a permanent
basis? The thought clouded her heart as it fought off the dread
that comes with facing possible rejection.

Dorrie fielded calls from Archer Canfield
and Rick Tarlock, asking her out. But it was the night before
shooting was to begin, and she couldn’t see anyone. She’d already
told Johnny, so he didn’t call. Her dates were over for this
visit.

After talking to Grace three more times and
endlessly with Megan Duncan, she decided the phone was her only way
to tell the men about her job opportunity in New York. Archer
Canfield was first on her list.
Nine o’clock, not too late to
call.
She dialed.

“Hey, Arch.”

“Dorrie? I thought you were tied up.”

“I can talk on the phone, but no time to go
out.”

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

She swallowed. “I wanted to tell you about a
job opportunity I have in New York.”

“ So you weren’t kidding when we had dinner.
There really is a job for you in New York?” She swore she could
hear his eyebrow rise.

“To be a partner in a dance studio
here.”

“Marvelous! When are you moving back?”

“I haven’t decided whether to take that job,
or to stay in L.A. and work on the pilot for the
Hustle and
Dance
series.”

“Oh.”

“I might come back if there was
something…more here for me.”

“More?”

“A relationship, maybe?” She squeaked out,
squeezing her eyes shut. She held her breath.

“You mean, like with me?” His voice was
uncertain.

No, with Mickey Mouse!
“I want you to
think about it for two weeks.”

“And then?”

“Then, we talk again. You tell me if this
fits into your life. If it’s where you want to go.” Her heart
raced. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants.

“What about you?”

“Then, I’ll decide if I stay or return to
New York.”

“Based on what I say?” She paced from the
door to the window and back to the door again.

“Sort of. Maybe. Yeah, I guess.” Silence
followed. “Will you think about it and call me in about two
weeks?”

“Of course, my dear. This number?”

“Yes.”

“I adore you, Dorrie. I hope you know
that.”

“Love you, too, Arch. Can we talk then?”

“Whatever you wish. I’ll phone you in two
weeks.”

She hung up and sank down on her bed. That
had been more difficult than she thought it would be. She padded
into the living room to find Meg and Chaz having tea.

“Join us?” Meg offered.

Dorrie shook her head. “I’m too wound up for
anything, but thanks,” she said as she wandered around the spacious
room, moving from window to window.

Meg trained her gaze on her new friend. “So?
Did you talk to one of the guys?”

“Archer.”

“And what did he say? Come on, come on, I’m
dying to know.”

“I told him about the job offer here and
asked him to think about what it might mean for us…”

“And what did he say?”

“I asked him to call me in two weeks.”

“Two weeks! You won’t even be here then!
Damn!”

“We’ll be in L.A., Meg,” Chaz reminded his
wife.

“Oh. Yeah.” She smiled, cuddling up to him.
“Good. Still have to wait two weeks. Damn.”

Dorrie laughed. “You’re so into this. Tell
me, do you have a favorite guy for me?”

“I don’t know them, personally, but I have a
bet going with Chaz.” Her husband nudged her with his elbow. “Oops.
I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“A bet?” Dorrie’s eyes widened. “And…who do
you each pick?”

“We’re not saying. Right, Meg?” Chaz shot a
stern look at his wife.

“Right. We don’t want to influence you.”

“What did you bet?” Dorrie asked. Both
Duncans blushed furiously.

“Can’t tell you that either,” Meg said,
turning her gaze away from her friend.

“Oh my God! I hope I’m as happy and horny as
you guys when I get married someday.”

Chaz stood up, picked up the tea cups and
Megan’s hand. “Time for bed. We have an early day tomorrow.”

“And a strenuous one!” Dorrie put in. Chaz
groaned and teased her, “Slave driver!”

The three retired to their bedrooms. Dorrie
gazed at the moon for a bit, wondering what the men would say to
her in two weeks. Exhaustion from an active day put an end to her
thoughts quickly as sleep engulfed her.

The next day was busy from early morning
until after sundown. Dorrie was on the go with final rehearsals.
Fine-tuning each routine required repetition until the point of
exhaustion. Tempers flared, there were tears, and still she worked
the dancers hard.

“You’ll thank me when we have a perfect
performance for the cameras. Go home. Go to bed, alone. Come in
rested tomorrow and ready to work.” Dorrie slung her bag over her
shoulder and limped to a taxi.

When she and Chaz arrived home, Meg served
dinner. Chaz was almost as tired as Dorrie. She exchanged notes
with him about the dance numbers while they ate. Chaz opened a
fresh bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and the three sipped it in the
living room. Meg rubbed his back and legs while Dorrie massaged her
aching ankle.

“Going to place another call?” he asked.

“This casual act will get you nowhere. You
two are obvious as hell.” Dorrie laughed.

“Okay, okay, you got us. Who is it
tonight?”

Dorrie sat back, resting her leg on a small
ottoman. She blew out a breath and took another mouthful.

“I’m not sure I have the energy to face
another phone call.”

“But you’re leaving soon,” Meg pointed
out.

“Might as well get it over with.” Picking up
her glass, she retired to her room. Rick was next on her list.

“Dorrie, thought you might be winging it
back to L.A. by now.”

“Nope. We’re filming next week. Did Drake
call you?” She stretched out on her bed.

“He did.”

She groaned.
Dammit. Wanted to get to
Rick first.

“Did he tell you about my job opportunity in
New York?”

“Yep. Sounds great. When are you moving
back?”

“That depends.”

“On the three guys?” There was a sarcastic
tone to his voice.

Angry bile rose in her throat.
You
vindictive bastard, Drake.

“Sort of. I was wondering, if I did come
back to New York—what about us?”

“You and me?”

Quit stalling.
A moment of silence
followed.

“What exactly do you mean?”

“I was thinking—I have a good offer on the
TV series for
Hustle and Dance,
but life is more than work.
If I came back to New York to work and be with you…would you be
interested?”

“Interested in you? I’m always interested in
you.”

“I mean with any kind of commitment.”

“Would you be seeing those other guys,
too?”

“Just you. I didn’t mean to set this up as a
competition. Damn Drake for telling you. I’m trying to make
a…a…choice.”

“Which guy is ahead?”

“No one. It’s not like that. Geez. I’m not
explaining myself very well.”

“What do you want, Dorrie?” She heard the
impatience in his voice.

“I want to be in love, committed, to one man
who’ll commit to me.”

Again, there was no reply.

“It’s been five years…”

“You don’t have to decide now. I’m giving
each guy two weeks to think about it.”

“Two weeks? Okay. I can do that. If every
date is like the one we just had, well, it’s a slam dunk.”

“So will you call me in two weeks?”

“And tell you if I want to commit or
not?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” She squirmed on the bed
and stood up.

“Sure. Why not? I think you’re amazing, and
every day with you is a gift. Having you in my life on a regular
basis would be awesome. But you need a commitment? I do need to
think about it. Should I call this number?”

“Yep. Are you okay with this?” She chewed
her lip.

“I understand. You’ve got a decision to
make. Just trying to gather all the data you can before you decide
which job to take, right?”

“Right. Directly to the heart of things,
Rick. Knew I could count on you to get it.” She blew out a
breath.

“Talk to you in two weeks,” he said and hung
up.

Dorrie padded into the kitchen for a glass
of water, but got waylaid by Megan.

“So?”

“So?” Dorrie shot her a questioning
glance.

“What did they say? Did you call all three?
Do they all know about each other? Which one is in the lead?”

Dorrie laughed. “Slow down.” Megan followed
her and watched while she got ice and filled two glasses with
water. The women sat down at the little table.

“I spoke to Arch and Rick. Both were okay
with it.”

“Do you have an inkling of which one will
want to commit?”

“Not really. Now that leaves Johnny.”

“Wish I could be a fly on the wall for that
conversation!” Megan chuckled.

“I wish you could be the one having it
instead of me.” Dorrie took a long swallow.

“Aren’t you curious to know what he’s going
to say?”

“I’m just hoping he doesn’t hang up on me.
He was pretty ticked.”

“About the other guys? Maybe that’s a good
sign?”

“Who knows? At this point, I have no idea
what anyone is going to say…and a sneaking suspicion all of them
are going to say ‘thanks, but no thanks’.”

“Then you’d be alone.”

“Yeah.” She took another long drink.

“When are you going to call Johnny?”

“Tomorrow, right after we finish
shooting.”

“This is better than a reality show. Good
luck.” Megan took a last sip of her water then put her glass in the
sink.

“Thanks. I’ve a feeling I’m going to need
it.”

* * * *

Despite some tossing and turning during the
night, Dorrie managed to get enough sleep to get out of bed and to
rehearsal on time, though she needed to hop a taxi to do so. Her
justification for the expense was that she was saving her ankle,
which was true.

She was on location for the shoot by six
a.m. to get the dancers warmed up and have a few run-throughs
before filming began. Gunther Quill arrived five minutes later. She
almost spit out her coffee when she heard his voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re surprised to see a producer at a
film shoot?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.