Page 53 of Fake Out Hearts

“About time! Welcome to the club,” she says, and I have to bite back an incredulous laugh.

That’s probably easy to say for a woman who falls in and out of love like she’s trying on different dinner dresses, but for the rest of us, we usually only try to do it once. Then again, my mom has never really been like most women I know.

“You’ll have to tell Shawn congratulations for me,” my mom trills.

“Um, he’s actually not the one I married. We broke up. I’m married to a man named Theo Camden, another hockey player.”

“Oh.” That seems to take her aback a little, but she bounces back quickly, her voice regaining its usual airiness as she asks, “Did he get you a nice ring?”

I stare down at the ice-blue stone on my left hand and smile, despite knowing she’s probably more interested in the cost of the ring than how perfectly it seems to fit me. “Yeah, he really outdid himself.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. And if he’s a hockey player, I’m sure he can take good care of you. So you’re on your honeymoon, then?”

While this time with Theo could be called a honeymoon phase, it’s not really like that, so I’m not sure how to answer.

“Sort of,” I say with a shrug.

There’s no real point in going into detail because I’m sure she won’t care or remember most of what I’d say. And I’m getting close to the building where I’m scheduled for an interview with a dance company, Curtain Call, so I need to get off the phone.

“Did you need something?” I ask. “Or were you just calling to catch up?”

“No, no, everything’s fine here. Just thought I’d say hi and see how the Americans were treating you.”

Much better than you ever did, I think, but thankfully manage to keep it to myself.

“Say hi to your new husband for me,” she continues. “Tell him I’m looking forward to meeting him sometime.”

“Yeah, will do. Talk to you later, Mom,” I say, shaking my head slightly. She’s been promising to come visit me for years and hasn’t made it happen yet.

We say our goodbyes, and I drop my phone back into my pocket, then stand outside the building for a few moments to gather myself. I was in a great, upbeat mood before she called,but she’s knocked me off-kilter, as usual. I sigh and shake my head, trying to clear it.

As much as it bothers me that my mom is so checked out and self-absorbed, part of me realizes it’s probably easier this way. I couldn’t imagine having to handle the reaction of super hands-on parents like Theo’s when they found out he’s married some random girl they’ve never met. For me, it was never a worry how my mom would react, so I guess that’s the upside and downside of having an absentee parent.

After taking a few more deep breaths, I let it go and walk into the building. The head of the company personally invited me to interview with him after I applied for a position teaching kids how to dance, so I’m assuming that’s a good sign, but I’m nervous either way.

There’s a directory posted on the wall of the lobby with all the different businesses listed, so I find Curtain Call on the third floor and skip the elevator in favor of the stairs. Hopefully, the little burst of physical activity will help me burn off some of my nerves. I emerge onto the third floor and find a pair of glass doors with the Curtain Call logo etched on them waiting for me.

“Good morning,” a blonde woman my age greets me when I step inside. “Are you Becca Summers?”

“Good morning. And yes, I am,” I say and offer her my hand to shake. She takes it and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Great. I’m Caroline, the studio head,” she says, and my nerves ratchet back up. I wasn’t expecting to meet her right off the bat. “Thanks for coming in. I’m so excited to talk with you.”

“Me too. Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the studio while we chat,” she says and steps out from behind the front desk to open another set of doors that lead into the actual dance space. It’s huge and the warm, polished wooden floors instantly put me at ease. Thisis the kind of space I’m intimately familiar with, the kind of place I could see myself spending hours in.

“This is the main studio space we have, but there’s an overflow studio over this way,” Caroline says, pointing to our right. The adjacent studio is a bit smaller than this one, but it’s comparable. “Our classes are pretty full, but business has been picking up, so I’m glad we have the space to accommodate all the new students. And hopefully someone with your background to teach them,” she adds with a smile.

As much as I hate it, I feel blush blooming on my cheeks. “I would love that.”

“Well, you seem like you could be a great fit. What got you into dance?”

“I kind of stumbled into it when I was young, honestly. My family moved around a lot, so most traditional after school stuff wasn’t an option for me, but dance was something I could take with me no matter where we were living. And it gave me something to ground myself in when everything else was in motion.”

“Sounds a bit similar to my background. Have you taught before?”

“Not formally, no, but I’ve done a lot of coaching and drills with other students and colleagues in my time.”

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