Romance on Mountain View Road (22 page)

“You're a good dancer. You'd be crazy not to.”

He'd be even crazier to risk a public fiasco like the one he'd experienced at the street dance. “Look, Jules, I appreciate all the lessons, but I'm gonna stop. I don't think I was meant to be a dancer.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You're going to
quit?
”

Why did she make avoiding public humiliation sound so wimpy?

“One more lesson,” she pleaded. “Then, if you still want to quit, we will.”

“Okay, one more,” he said. He actually did enjoy dancing in the safety of his sister's living room. If only he could ask Lissa to come to his house and dance.

Was Juliet right? Was he a quitter? That wasn't heroic.

But then, dropping women at dances wasn't heroic, either. The very thought of another public humiliation was terrifying.

His sister didn't seem to get that, because he showed up for what was to be his final lesson to find several women waiting for him in her living room. What was this?

“I imported some new dance partners for you,” Juliet told him. “My book club.”

Jonathan's hands went clammy.
Think fast!
“Uh, I can't stay. I just came by to say I have to...” What? “Run some errands,” he improvised.

“You can do them later,” his sister said. “Anyway, all the shops are closed now. There's no place to run.” She grabbed his arm in a vicelike grip and hauled him into the living room.

“Hi, Jonathan,” said Chelsea, Adam's wife. “This is going to be fun.”

Not for him...

“I'm sorry I didn't get to dance with you at the street fair,” said Cass Wilkes, owner of Gingerbread Haus. “I really wanted a chance to learn that slow dance you did with your mom.”

“And I wanted another swing dance,” put in Dot.

“I want to learn to swing dance, too,” Cecily Sterling said.

Oh, Lord. Dancing with Cecily Sterling. He wouldn't remember a single step. Charley Albach was just as intimidating.

He didn't care if Juliet was related to him. He was going to kill her.

“Okay,” she said, “who wants to go first?”

“I'll break the ice,” Dot said. “Come on, kid, let's show 'em what we're made of.”

Juliet had her playlist all cued up and she started with a fast vintage rock number, “Betty's Lou Got a New Pair of Shoes.”

Jonathan pushed his glasses up his nose and then wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. The beat was pounding like a jungle drum but he couldn't seem to hear it. Where was the beat?

“You can do it, kid,” Dot said.

He swallowed hard, nodded and wiped his hands on his jeans again. Then he rubbed an imaginary itch on his forehead.

“Okay, wait here,” Dot said, and stepped away.

He released his breath and watched as she pulled the other women into a chick huddle. The huddle broke up and they all turned their backs. What the heck?

Now Dot was back. “Okay, kid. Nobody's watching. It's just you and me. Let's get some dancing in before this song ends.”

She put a hand on his shoulder and held out her other hand for him to take so they could start in a closed position. As he took her hand, she smiled encouragingly at him, nodding her head to the beat.

Oh, there it was. He started them dancing. Then, much to his surprise, he was dancing like a pro on
Dancing with the Stars.
Every move Juliet taught him came as naturally as breathing. Dot was smiling and suddenly the other women were clapping and cheering. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that they'd all turned around again and were watching him, but now it didn't matter because he'd found his groove.

Until Dot said, “Flip me, kid.”

Flip her? Here? Now? Daphne's face superimposed itself on Dot's. He could see them flying across the room, landing on the coffee table and breaking it.

“I don't weigh much,” said Daphne-Dot. “You can do it.”

“Oh,” he said weakly.

“Get back on the horse,” Juliet barked.

“Go for it!” Chelsea shouted.

“Come on,” Dot urged, “prove you've got what it takes.”

He didn't have what it took. Everyone knew that, including him.

Juliet was at his elbow now. “Do it,” she growled.

“I won't take you down, I promise,” Dot said.

Dot was no spring chicken. What if she broke something?

“Hey, I don't get that many thrills at my age. Do an old lady a favor.”

Oh, what the heck. Jonathan braced himself and flipped her.

A pair of scrawny legs sailed past his vision and then Dot was safely back on her feet. Everyone in the room was cheering and clapping again. He'd done it! He'd gotten back on the horse and stayed on.

After that, the night was one big Jonathan fest, with the women taking turns, begging for one more dance whenever he said he was tired. Juliet put on the AC, but he was still sweating by the time they finally let him sit down and drink a Coke.

“I had a great evening,” Stacy Thomas said as they tore into the gingerbread treats Cass had brought.

“I wish Adam would learn to dance,” Chelsea said wistfully, and Jonathan made a mental note to tell Adam he'd better sign up for dance lessons.

“You ever want to take a free cruise, kid, you could hire on as a dancer,” Dot told him. “They're always looking for handsome studs to dance with all the single women.”

He was a handsome stud? Dot was either losing it in her old age or she needed glasses.

“You,” Cecily said as the party broke up, “are the best-kept secret in Icicle Falls.”

He had to smile at her remark. “Thanks,” he said.

Juliet shut the door on her guests and turned to gloat. “I
told
you that you could do it. You were like Derek Hough 2.0. You could go on
Dancing with the Stars
right now and win that mirror ball trophy.”

He should still be pissed at her. It was hard, though, when he was feeling like the dancing king. Still. “That was a dirty trick.”

“This was the only way to get your confidence back,” she said. She took the last gingerbread boy from the plate sitting on her coffee table. “You are so ready for the reunion.” Then she studied him critically. “Well, for dancing, anyway. Now we need to upgrade your look.”

His appearance, the next frontier.

“You've buffed up, big bro. With some new glasses and a J.Crew style, you're going to be seriously hot.”

He made a face. “Yeah, right.”

“I'm not lying to you,” she said. “Trust me. Before we're done with you, you'll be able to have any woman you want.” She winked. “Even one whose initials are L.C.”

He left his sister's house wearing a big grin.

Chapter Eighteen

O
n the first Saturday in August, Jonathan found himself up early and driving over the pass with Juliet riding shotgun. Why they had to go all the way to Seattle for clothes was beyond him, and he said as much as they cruised into the parking garage next to Macy's.

“Because Seattle has a bigger selection,” Juliet explained. “And until someone decides to open up a men's clothing store in Icicle Falls, that's where we're going.”

“I could just order something online,” he grumbled.

“Yes, well, I've seen the kind of clothes you order online. You can't be trusted not to buy some outfit that makes you look like a walking ad for geekhood. Not that it's a bad thing to be a geek,” she added quickly.

“Thanks.”

“But you don't want to dress like one when you're trying to impress a woman. For that you need stud duds.”

“Stud duds, huh?”

“Yes. Clothes that make you look sexy, not geeky. That's where I come in. I want you to try on everything and I want to see it.”

What was this
everything
stuff? Wasn't he just buying a shirt and pants? “Uh, define
everything.
”

“Clothes for every event at the reunion and beyond, brother dear. We are going to deck you out like a Christmas tree.”

What had he gotten himself into?

“It's about time you let me help you get a sense of style. And that's all I'm going to say about that.”

Thank God,
Jonathan thought. She'd been after him for years, always trying to get him to change his image, giving him sweaters for Christmas that he never wore, shirts for his birthday that stayed in his closet. One year she'd even given him boxers. Sheesh.

Still, he realized now that she'd been right. He was wardrobe-challenged. But he didn't need it rubbed in his face. Anyway, if he'd worn any of that stuff he'd have felt like a dork playing dress-up.

Which he was probably going to feel like today.

Juliet had insisted they leave early, claiming they had a full day's work ahead of them. At the time, he hadn't seen how buying a couple of shirts and a pair of pants could take so long, but now he was beginning to get an idea.

“This is going to be fun,” Juliet said.

Fun. Yeah, about as much fun as hitting your finger with a hammer.

“Once we get you in some decent clothes, you are going to feel like a different man,” Juliet predicted.

He could go for that. He
wanted
to be different. Better. A hunk. Well, okay, that was stretching it. Better. He'd be happy with better.

It wasn't hard to find a salesclerk eager to assist them. In fact, the guy's enthusiasm over dressing Jonathan made him slightly uncomfortable.

“He needs an entire new wardrobe,” Juliet told him.

“I can see that.” Ellis, a slim twenty-something guy with a slick metrosexual style, studied Jonathan from head to toe, shaking his head over Jonathan's black T-shirt sporting the symbol for pi set inside a steaming pie plate. (Caption beneath: Bring on the Pi.) “But I see potential,” he said with an encouraging smile.

“So, casual clothes to start with,” Juliet decided. “He needs some low-rise jeans and a slim fit shirt.”

“Plaid,” Ellis said. “And blue,” he added. “Great with your coloring,” he said to Jonathan, finally including him in the discussion. “Pant size? I'm thinking maybe a thirty-two, thirty-two.”

Jonathan nodded.

“And shirt?”

“Medium,” Jonathan supplied. “Fifteen and a half neck.”

Ellis took in Jonathan's chest. “I'm thinking we might want to try a large.”

From a medium to a large. Yes! All that sweating at the gym had paid off.

Within minutes Ellis and Juliet had assembled two armloads of clothes. Did they really expect him to try on all of that?

Evidently they did.

The first ensemble was jeans and the blue shirt. He wasn't used to his pants riding that low. But once he'd pulled off his T-shirt and seen his reflection in the mirror, he realized they did a pretty good job of showing off his emerging six-pack. “Whoa.” He didn't look half-bad.

“Let's see,” Juliet called from outside the dressing room.

He pulled on the shirt and buttoned it up, then came out, buttoning the cuff.

“No, no,” she said, slapping away his hand. Instead, she rolled the sleeve halfway up his forearm and undid the top button on the shirt. Then she stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Oh, yeah. My brother the hunk.”

Ellis was on hand with a black-and-gray striped rugby hoodie. “And put this on.”

Jonathan obliged and Juliet sighed. So did Ellis.

“If you weren't my brother, I'd have a serious crush on you.”

“I already do,” Ellis said, making Jonathan's cheeks sizzle. “Okay, now back to the dressing room. Oh, I feel just like Clinton on
What Not to Wear.
”

Another ensemble, another glance in the mirror, and Jonathan was doing something he hadn't done in front of a mirror in, well, ever. He smiled.

Yeah, he still wore glasses, but they were losing their dork power. Maybe he
could
turn himself into somebody cool.

He modeled another outfit for his sister, who clapped in delight.

“An absolute transformation,” Ellis said dreamily.

“We need movie theme music.” Juliet began searching on her phone.

As Jonathan stepped back into his dressing room to try on a tan polo shirt, Jo Dee Messina's “Sharp-Dressed Man” blasted in after him. He turned in the mirror and admired his new and improved self, and it nodded in approval. Yes, he was becoming a sharp-dressed man.

Forty minutes later, he'd spent more on clothes than he had in the past two years combined, and Ellis was giving him his card, offering to help him with any needs he should have in the future. And Juliet was just getting warmed up.

“Shoes and socks next,” she said, steering him toward the shoe department.

“I'm not made of money, you know,” he protested.

“Don't give me that. You've got money in savings, you miser. It's time you invested some of it in yourself.”

The investment didn't end at the shoe department. They went to a men's suit store and got him a suit, to another department store's optical department for new glasses frames and then to a fancy hair salon that catered to both men and women.

“I made an appointment for both of us,” she said blithely. “After this you can buy me something to eat.” And with that she left him in the capable hands of a hairdresser named Desiree, who gave him a pricey haircut and sold him an equally pricey jar of pomade. But worth every cent, he decided, checking out the new and improved him.

When they met in the reception area an hour later, Juliet beamed like Henry Higgins looking at Eliza Doolittle. “Wow! You are now officially a lady-killer.”

“Yeah, right.” Okay, that was taking it too far.

But as they set off down the street toward Wild Ginger, he caught a twenty-something woman checking him out. Him. Really? He glanced over his shoulder to see if there was someone behind him. Nope.

“Yes, she was looking at you,” said Juliet, who could read minds. “You are going to be the surprise hit of the reunion.”

Probably not compared to the likes of Rand or Cam Gordon or Feron Prince. But that was okay. He wasn't out to wow every woman from the class of 1998. Only one.

Were the new clothes enough? Lissa had always tended to get sidetracked by guys with a flashy facade. Sadly, she'd often had trouble seeing behind the facade.

* * *

“I can't believe he cheated on me,” Lissa lamented the Thanksgiving weekend of their sophomore year in college.

She and Jonathan were both home for the weekend, and their families had gotten together on Friday night to share leftovers. The turkey sandwiches had been consumed. Lissa's older sister had been trying to settle her two-year-old so the families could play Trivial Pursuit. Lissa and Jonathan had drifted out onto the porch to compare notes on college and had wound up discussing her love life.

“Seriously, Liss? I knew when you brought him home last year that he was a player. He was flirting with my sister. You didn't see that?”

Her eyes widened, then her lower lip trembled. “No. Oh, Jonathan, why do I pick losers all the time?”

Because you don't pick me.
As always, he thought it but didn't say it. He was too afraid that if he did, he'd see by the expression in her face that she believed he was a loser, too. Not the rotten, cheating kind of loser, of course. Just a subpar guy with no commanding presence. He simply wasn't sexy. Even his college major wasn't sexy. Who wanted to date a guy whose major was computer science?

A girl who was majoring in math, of course. Caroline Schnook wasn't as beautiful as Lissa (who was?), but she liked to play chess and she liked to read. They had plenty in common. He could be happy with her. That was what he told himself. But the happiness hadn't seemed so happy anymore after he'd seen Lissa.

“At least you've found someone nice.”

He'd shrugged. “She's okay.”

“Okay? You're settling for someone who's only okay?”

“There aren't enough Lissas to go around.” It was the closest he'd ever come to telling her how he felt. Just saying those words had made his heart pound.

“Oh, Jonathan, you're so sweet. But you shouldn't be with a girl you're not crazy in love with.”

“I think we're going to break up.” He'd thought he could be happy with Caroline, but after talking to Lissa he'd known that, as she put it, he'd only be settling. And while that might have been okay for him (since he was reaching for the stars with Lissa, anyway), it wasn't fair to Caroline. Every woman deserved to have a man deeply, madly, breathlessly in love with her. Who wanted to be settled for?

“Gosh, Jonathan,” Lissa said, “what's with us? How do we keep winding up with the wrong people?”

Because we're meant to be together. Just say it!
he told himself.

As he opened his mouth to take the big gamble and put his heart on the line, the front door opened and her dad poked his head out. “Hey, you two, come on. We're about to start playing.”

Lissa went back inside, leaving Jonathan to follow. The moment had passed.

* * *

What would have happened if he'd said, “Just a minute, Mr. Castle. I have something really important to say to your daughter.” It would have blown up in his face, that was what would have happened. He'd looked nothing like the guys she dated. He'd looked like a geek.

But he didn't look like one now. He wasn't the same guy he'd been back then, either, and he was going to prove it to her.

The new and improved Jonathan hosted the next poker night.

Adam stared at him in surprise. “Whoa, what happened to you, dude?”

Jonathan shrugged as if it was no big deal that he'd just spent a small fortune on clothes and glasses and a haircut. “Got some new clothes.”

“Got some new everything. Crazy good improvement,” Adam said, nodding.

“You don't even look like you,” added Kyle, who'd come in with him.

A good thing, since the last person Jonathan wanted to look like was himself, at least his old self.

“So, does this mean you're going to the reunion, after all?” Kyle asked.

Jonathan pretended he hadn't given it much thought. “Maybe.”

Kyle, too, nodded his approval. “Now that you're Mr. Hot it would be dumb not to.”

Mr. Hot.
Kyle was as full of it as Juliet.

“You really are a cutie,” she'd informed him when he dropped her off at home after their shopping expedition.

“Whatever,” he'd said.

“I'm serious. Yeah, you were geeky when we were kids, but you were never ugly. And now that you've hunked up
and
you're showing off the merchandise, you're going to have no problem getting any woman's attention.”

Family loyalty, he'd thought. And the guys were just being good friends.

Except Vance never worried about boosting a man's ego and even he gave the new and improved Jonathan a thumbs-up. “I may have to put you in a book.”

“Put
me
in a book,” Bernardo said, thumping his chest.

“As what?” Vance scoffed.

“As a Latino lover.”

The guys all chuckled and got down to the business of playing cards and that was the end of any talk about Jonathan's makeover.

But other people were still talking. “Look at you,” Elena greeted him when he entered the Sweet Dreams office to run some diagnostics on one of their computers.
“¿Qué pasó?”

The attention was both embarrassing and gratifying. “I just got some new clothes.”

“You look great,” Cecily said.

Dot, too, was impressed when he went to her place to assist with a computer emergency. “My, my, wait till our local girls get a gander at you in those new clothes.”

It did seem like the local girls were taking a gander. Jenni, the barista at Bavarian Brews, gave him a once-over and cooed, “I like your new glasses.”

“Uh, thanks,” he said.
Well, that was smooth.
He might have been a new man on the outside, but inside he was still his same geeky self. He was going to have to work on upping his suave factor. He thought of item number two on his list of hero attributes—a smooth tongue. Yeah, he had a ways to go in the sweet-talker department.

That evening, after a hike with Chica, he pulled out his list and studied it again. He was making progress, he reminded himself. He was now at least semibuff and as good-looking as he was going to get. And he could check off dancing. But he definitely needed some work in the smooth-tongue department. How did a guy learn to be a smooth talker?