The Queen Bee of Bridgeton (28 page)

"Why? What does it say?"  I snatched the letter away from Will and anxiously read it over.  What if I was wrong? What if they hadn't accepted me after all?

"It says that The
DiRisio
Dance Company has three weeks left in its US tour and they want you to be a temporary understudy before you start the academy.  They…they want you to be in San Francisco…tomorrow."  Will plopped himself into a chair at the kitchen table and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Tomorrow?"
My mother and I said in unison.  Sure enough I looked in the envelope and found a plane ticket with my name on it for June 8th.
Tomorrow.

"I can't believe they expect me to be ready tomorrow."

"I can't believe I have to let you go for three weeks when I just got you back." Will grabbed my hand, pulled me into his lap, and held me tightly.

"Well, this is just ridiculous.  You're
gonna
have to call those people and tell them you're not ready. They're
gonna
have to wait," my mother said with her hands on her hips.

"Mom, I can't do that. Do you know how lucky I am that they're taking me at all?"

My mother pursed her lips holding back another flood of tears.  She blinked rapidly and with a shaky voice said, "Well, if you're leaving tomorrow, we have a lot to do tonight.  I'm calling in to work. Will, do you by any chance have a cell phone I can use?"  Will nodded and took his phone out of his pocket.

"I got an idea," Will said excitedly after my mother had left the room. He still held me in his lap. "Why don't I go with you? I'll get a plane ticket and my own hotel rooms and follow you around for the next three weeks."

"You and I both know that's not going to work.  Don't you have to be in Rome on the 15th anyway?" He nodded sheepishly.

"It's just, I'm really
gonna
miss you."

"It's only three weeks and then we'll be together in Rome." I lifted his chin and kissed him on his adorably full pink lips. "You know what?" I said with a seductive grin. "Since tonight is our last night together for a while, why don't we make it special? You want to spend the night?" Will's eyes expanded.

"With your mom here?
No way."

"Well, let's go to your place." I kissed his neck.

"Julia is probably home. Look, we'll just wait, okay? We can consummate our love and our new life together at the same time. The first chance we get in Rome I'll make you a candlelit dinner, we'll dance under the moonlight, then make love by the fire over, and over, and over again."  Will punctuated each thought with a kiss stirring a desire in me so great I wanted to rip his clothes off and take him right there in the chair.

"Well, if you expect me to wait until Rome, you better stop kissing me," I said playfully. I stood up, smoothed the wrinkles out of my dress and went to the refrigerator.

Will crept up behind me, closed the refrigerator door, and swept me up into his arms. He planted a kiss on my lips so strong, sensual, and tender I nearly went limp. Then, with a knowing gleam in his eyes, he whispered, "Till Rome."

The Devil of
DiRisio

The second book in the Dancing Dream series

Now available!

Leslie
DuBois
lives in Charleston, South Carolina with her husband and two children. She currently attends the Medical University where she’s earning her PhD in Biostatistics. Leslie enjoys writing stories and novels that integrate races.

 
Ain’t

 
The Queen Bee of Bridgeton

The Devil of DiRisio

 
Guardian of Eden

Nobody Girl

La
Cienega
Just Smiled coming Nov 2011.  

Visit her
website
to learn more.

Coming April 21st

My first hint that the devil was wearing Prada earmuffs and a Burberry scarf should’ve been when my parents gave in and let me go to the Anna
Devereaux
School of the Arts. After all, they’d sworn up and down it would be a cold day in Hades before they let me go away for high school.

I definitely didn’t inherit my Grandma Rose’s ESP -- she’s what she calls ‘fey’ and my dad calls ‘crazy’ -- or I would have realized my world was about to be turned upside down.

But I guess it’s not surprising I’d missed the signs. I mean, there’s not exactly much use for earmuffs and a scarf in Arizona. I forgot to mention. That’s where I’ll be for the next four years. I’m a freshman at
Devereaux
School of the Arts in Scottsdale, majoring in dance.

Yes, that Anna
Devereaux
. You may not remember her movies, but I’m sure you’ve heard of her many marriages. She was this famous starlet in the ‘50s who made a bunch of old movie musicals with Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire. Anyway, after Hubby Number Eight passed away, she got nostalgic for the Hollywood she once knew and decided to start an arts school to train the next generation. I guess Katy Perry and
Snooki
didn’t exactly inspire much confidence in her.

But
Snooki’s
a novelist, you say. Yeah, and she’s read two whole books, too.

When I first moved in, I thought for sure I’d made a huge mistake. My roommate Bev is a complete waste of space. I thought living with an art student would be great. If nothing else, she’d know how to transform the stark white dorm room into something fun and fabulous. Plus she’s a sophomore, so she could show me around. But man, is she ever BOR-ING! I’m not sure she’s even capable of answering questions with anything more than one syllable.

I left my friends back home for this?

I plopped down onto my bed and tried to make small talk with the tall girl in black. “So, this is your second year here?”

Bev didn’t even turn away from her computer game. “Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah.”
She tucked a chunk of dyed black hair behind her ear, revealing more piercings than should be legal.

A root canal would be easier. “And you’re an art student?”

“Yes.” 

I tried another tactic. “The dining hall opens at five?”

She typed furiously for a minute.
“Yeah.”

“
Wanna
go?”

“No.”

I’m stuck with her for the next year. How was I going to make it? I snuck a peak over her shoulder at the time in the bottom corner of her screen. 4:55.
Suddenly
, my tummy was growling.

“Okay, well, see
ya
later!” I said, grabbing my sunglasses and slipping my feet into my new sparkly black flip-flops. A few seconds later, I was out the door.

I’d wanted to shower and change first -- what if I met a really hot guy while standing in the salad bar line? --
but
I didn’t think I’d last much longer in that room without some fresh air. Fortunately I wasn’t too sweaty from moving in, and anyway, what were the chances of meeting my soul mate on my first night?

I got my food as quickly as possible, which really wasn’t all that quick. The buffet was a thousand times better than the one at Golden Corral, and I’d thought that one was huge! Station after station overflowing with food options tempted me, and I found myself barely able to make a decision.

Yummalicious
!

Not that it mattered. I had leotards to fit into, so I had to watch my weight. I placed a salad, bottled water, and a small dish of sugar-free raspberry Jell-O onto my tray, although I eyed the tiramisu.

As I made my way through the crowded room, I noticed all the other kids seemed to be hunched over a flyer. Their whispering permeated the air like my mom’s Eternity. Was it an invitation to a super secret party or something? My older sister Whitney told me about all about the secret societies at her college. Did we even have that kind of stuff here?

Seeing all the kids huddled together suddenly made me homesick for my old middle school. I never had to worry about where to sit at lunch back at home. We’re supposed to eat three meals a day in the
caf
, but I didn’t know anyone, so where was I going to sit?

Deep breath.

Three girls sat at the table in front of me, whispering. Every now and then they looked up from the flyer and scanned the room. Then they laughed and huddled up again. Finally one girl caught my gaze. She had shiny long blonde hair straight out of a shampoo commercial and was wearing the dress Leighton
Meester
wore on last night’s “Gossip Girl.”