Page 18 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

“Huh. You haven’t set a date yet, until then I’m calling him your sugar daddy.”

He slipped an arm through mine and we ambled down the aisle, flicking the lights off as we left the empty auditorium. When we entered the office, the first thing I spotted was a large, neatly-wrapped rectangular object with a bow in the middle. It was propped in front the desk. I glanced at Dante’s grinning face.

“It’s big-ish,” I muttered.

“Where’s my present?” Dante folded his arms with a mock scowl replacing his grin.

“Have you been a good boy this year, Dante Palmer?” I teased while walking around the table to open the drawer I’d put his gift in this morning. The box had been wrapped by my own hands, needless to say there were a few bumps and ripples in the overall finish. I handed it over, smiling with excitement. “Here you go. Merry Christmas.”

“Open yours first.” He decided the order in which we would do it.

I did. Then my eyes swam with tears. “It’s beautiful, Dante. How did you-”

“The last time I was home I found the original so I had it magnified and framed-”

“I love it,” I leaned the picture back against the table and threw myself into Dante’s arms. “I love you. You’re the best friend a girl can ask for.”

He chuckled and squeezed me tight. We broke apart and stared at the framed picture. It had been taken by Dante’s mom if I remembered correctly. Dante was in a pose with one leg extended behind him, hands on my waist as he elevated me slightly. My body was arched, one leg held aloft, arms out gracefully.

“I fell on stage that night,” I recalled with an embarrassed grin. “The weeks after at SAB were torture. Remember how Tatiana would always-”

“Bring it up whenever she could, yeah, I remember.” Dante finished my sentence with a devious smirk on his face.

“Until that day you got some of the guys to all complain that she was too heavy to lift. She bawled like a kid who was just told SantaClaus was a myth.”

“Served her right.” Dante said with grim satisfaction. “It took you a while to get your confidence back after that, but you did.”

I waved the memories away and gestured to his gift. “Open yours.”

He held it up to his ear and shook it slightly, then peeled the paper off. I chewed my lower lip. Dante gave me a quick look as he ran a finger over the box then opened it.

“Madi,” he gasped, a frown already starting to form.

“Before you make a fuss. I got it on discount and I know your last watch got smashed that night we were out with Sol and Brett.” I slid closer to him. “I got it inscribed too.”

Dante took out the Breitling watch and I took the empty box from him. He turned it over and read the inscription. His jaw clenched tightly as he swallowed and raised his warm brown eyes to mine, then he leaned over the mess on our desk and picked up the telephone. For once it was actually where it should be. I chewed my lips again. Why hadn’t he said anything?

“Dante,” I began and he held a finger up as he punched out some numbers before putting the phone to his ear.

“Hey babe,” he said quickly. “Look, I’m sorry but there’s a change of plans for tomorrow- (pause) - of course I’ll stop by but- (pause) - I can meet everyone some other time, Chrissie.”

My eyes were wide as Dante’s face twisted in displeasure. He was obviously bailing on his plans with Christine…for me. Five minutes later he hung up the phone and gave me a small smile.

I smiled back. “You didn’t have to do that, Dante.”

He shrugged and regarded the watch in his hand. His smile grew and damn if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“My fearless dreamer?” he teased, but the depth of emotions in his eyes…it brought tears to mine. He pulled me into a hug. “You’re the fearless one, Madi. Always have been, you just don’t see it. Now let’s get out of here, I’m staying over at yours tonight so I’m expecting to be fed.”

We got our stuff, double checked everywhere was locked, and got in our separate cars before driving to my place. Behind the wheel I watched his headlights in my rear view mirror. It was obvious I hadunknown mental powers. How else could it be explained? I had secretly wanted him to spend the day with me and it was happening. Now all I had to do was perfect said powers and use them on Matt. Ha. The Vulcan was going down. I shook my head at the silly thoughts running through my mind and focused on driving. The roads were quiet, at 11:30pm on Christmas Eve it was expected. The Christmas lights put up along the street lamps by the Council twinkled merrily. I wished it would snow, but this was England. A white Christmas morning was few and far between, this year would be no different. Maybe up in Scotland, but Greenwich London, no.

Dougie McGregor. Thinking of Scotland made me think of the Scotsman. True to his word he had been in the audience every night and every night he gave me a bouquet of red roses as I quizzed him over the performance. He had yet to admit which part he enjoyed the most. He was a strange one, but fun, completely different from the wealthy people I had dealt with since being with Matt. Dougie was down-to-earth, I guess him being around my age helped. Our interaction was easy, almost as if we had always been friends, although Dante wasn’t too sure about him. When the introductions had been made between them, Dante had eyed him closely, spent fifteen minutes chatting to him then cornered me and asked if Matt knew some other rich white man was hanging around me. My closest friend had earned a smack on his head for that, he wisely refrained from making any other comments on the issue but I caught him observing Dougie quietly on more than one occasion.

It was with relief I parked up in front my house. As much as I loved every second of prepping for and completing each performance, I was exhausted. Ten days of non-stop activity was beginning to take its toll. Huh, come the 29th, the final night of our production; I would be wailing that it was over too soon and bugging Dante about creating some new masterpiece.

“I’m exhausted.” Dante sighed as he held my framed picture while I opened the front door.

“Me too,” I murmured. “Straight to bed or do you want something to eat?”

---