A Fool's Gold Christmas (17 page)

Dominique sighed. “I can’t believe I’m happy about that, but I am. Charlie has told me to stop asking if she’s pregnant. She says they’re going to wait at least a year. I’ve tried to remind her that my wants are more important than hers, but she’s not listening. It’s very wonderful to have family. You must be pleased to be so close to yours.”

“You have no idea,” Evie murmured, hoping Dominique didn’t press for details. “Are you staying in town through the holidays?”

“Yes. I’m very much looking forward to the production.”

Evie pressed her hand against the sudden knot in her stomach. “Great. I’ve made a few changes from what’s been done in the past.”

She detailed her thoughts on the transitions and how she wanted to make the story tighter. “The voice-over is being modified, as well. A local businessman is helping with that. He owns the radio stations in town.”

“Excellent. I adore community involvement. Charlie mentioned the sets had been refurbished.”

“They were. We had a work day.” Evie told her about that.

“You do have a challenge on your hands,” her boss told her. “I would imagine not every student is gifted.”

“Some have to work harder than others,” Evie admitted. “I’m working with a few girls privately so they can be in the show. It’s not that they aren’t willing to work hard,” she said, not sure how to delicately share the truth.

“But they have no ability or rhythm,” Dominique said drily. “I can imagine. Dance is a gift and given to so few. Normally I would be against lowering the standards. After all, this studio has my name on it. But in this case, the production is for the town. Accommodations must be made—in the spirit of the season.”

“Exactly,” Evie said.

“You’re doing an excellent job. I’m very pleased. You stepped in and took control when you could have simply thrown up your hands and said it wasn’t your responsibility.”

“I didn’t want the students to be disappointed.” Evie drew in a breath. “I’m very much enjoying teaching.”

“Then you’re right where you need to be, aren’t you?” Dominique glanced around. “This is a grim little studio, isn’t it? Old and drafty. After the holidays, I want you and I to talk, Evie. I’m considering buying a building and putting the studio in it. We would have it redone to our exact specifications. Expand, even. Hire a few more teachers. I’d like you to be thinking about any suggestions you have and if you’d like to be in charge.”

Evie stared at her. “But I’ve only been working for you a couple of months.”

“I know, but I like what I see. Believe me, I’m used to sizing people up quickly. I had to know if I could trust my partner not to step all over me, figuratively or literally. I would like us to work together. As partners.” Dominique sipped her tea, then nodded. “Interesting. Yes, I think we could be partners. After all, we’re practically family, and we will be when Charlie marries Clay.”

Evie honestly didn’t know what to say. The offer thrilled her. She had dozens of ideas for a new studio and just as many suggestions for different classes.

“Thank you,” she stammered. “That’s so nice of you.”

“Nice?” Dominique raised her eyebrows. “How delicious. I’ve become a nice person. It’s strange, but oddly satisfying.”

She rose. “I must go and find Charlie. I wouldn’t tell her when I was arriving, so it would be a surprise. She’ll be both pleased to see me and slightly annoyed that I kept her guessing.” Dominique laughed. “A perfect combination.”

She reached for her coat, then paused. “Oh, Evie, please get this sad little studio some Christmas decorations. Use the company credit card. Go wild. I want my girls to be excited when they walk in here.”

Dominique smiled again, tossed her coat over her shoulder and swept out of the room. Evie was left in the chair, slightly breathless, as if she’d just survived a small tornado.

Her mind hopped from topic to topic, unable to settle. There was too much to consider.

The Christmas decorations were easy enough. She would ask Dante to help her get a tree. Buying ornaments would be fun. As for the rest of what Dominique had said, Evie wasn’t sure. The new studio would be wonderful. As for being a partner, the offer was tempting. Despite her slightly odd ways, Dominique was brilliant and easy to work for. But accepting meant staying, and Evie had always planned to leave Fool’s Gold.

Staying would mean being around her family, which was both good and bad. Staying meant being a part of the town, of craziness every Christmas. Staying meant complications with Dante. She’d gone into their relationship with the idea she was leaving. If she didn’t, how would things end?

Staying meant belonging.

Evie stood and carried both mugs into the small bathroom. She washed them in the sink and dried them before putting them back into the cupboard. Staying meant reconciling with her mother and accepting that, while May had made mistakes, she was genuinely sorry and wanted to make amends. It meant letting go of the anger she’d carried with her like a talisman.

Perhaps the healthiest decision, Evie realized. But without the hurt and anger, she wasn’t sure who she would be.

* * *

“
I
GUESS
I
DIDN’T
think this part through,” Evie admitted, trying not to laugh.

Dante obviously didn’t find anything about the situation amusing. Probably because he was tired and hungry and wasn’t the kind of guy to enjoy shopping for a Christmas tree.

Or maybe it wasn’t the shopping itself, but the fact that she’d asked him to carry a seven-foot-tall tree three blocks in the cold and then drag it up a flight of stairs to the studio.

Narrow stairs, where the too-large tree was now stuck.

“I’m sorry,” Evie said, staring up through the branches at the scowling man. “Seriously.”

“Uh-huh. You’re not sorry. You’re having fun.”

She bit the inside of her lip in an attempt to keep from smiling. “No, I’m not.”

“Right.” He grabbed the thick trunk with both hands. “I’m going to give this thing one more try. If I can’t get it to move, I’ll resign myself to slowly starving to death up here.”

He kind of had a point, she thought, realizing the tree blocked the only way up or down.

“On three,” she said, taking hold of the top of the tree and planning to push.

“Don’t help,” Dante told her.

“I’m helping.”

“You’ll get hurt. I can do this.”

As he spoke, he began to pull. Despite his instructions, she pushed from the top. Nothing happened. She pushed harder and felt a little bit of give.

“One more time,” she yelled.

“Stop help—”

But it was too late. She shoved, he pulled and the tree suddenly moved free, zipping up the stairs, hitting Dante in the center of his chest. They both went sprawling.

Evie found herself flying forward. She braced herself on her hands and landed somewhat gently on the stairs, facedown.

“You okay?” she asked, almost afraid to stand up and look.

“Fine.” Dante’s voice was slightly strangled.

“I’m going to order a pizza. Pepperoni all right with you?”

“Sure.”

She rolled onto her back and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, then called the local pizza place and put in their order. After she’d hung up, she stood and brushed off the needles decorating the front of her coat. Finally, she risked looking upstairs.

Dante still lay on his back, the tree on top of him, the base of its trunk maybe three inches from his chin.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Not really.”

She went upstairs and helped roll the tree off of him. He rose and glanced down at the tree on the floor and the layer of needles everywhere.

“Whose idea was this?” he asked.

“My boss’s.”

“I admire her willingness to delegate.”

An hour later the tree was in the stand and the lights were strung. When the pizza guy arrived, Dante disappeared downstairs to pay him and returned with a pizza box, a bottle of wine and two wineglasses.

“I didn’t order wine,” she said. “Do they deliver wine?”

“They do not. We have a small wine cellar in the office.”

“Because you never know when you’re going to need a bottle of merlot to get through the day?”

“Something like that.”

While she served their pizza, he opened the wine and then poured. They settled across from each other and each grabbed a slice. The scent of pine mingled with the fragrance of cheese and pepperoni.

“Wine, pizza and a Christmas tree,” she said. “What’s not to like?”

“Can I get back to you on that?”

“Don’t be a Grinch. You know this is fun.”

His blue eyes brightened with amusement. “You’re fun. Is that enough?”

“It works for me.”

He glanced at the tree, then back at her. “You’ve been talking about getting one of those for your place. Still thinking it’s a good idea?”

“I am. I’m also thinking of getting a cat.”

“As a decoration?”

“I’m not sure he would like that idea.”

“He? You’ve got a cat in mind?”

She thought about the black-and-white one she’d seen at the shelter. Despite how busy she’d been, he kept popping into her mind.

“Sort of. He was very sweet and needs a forever home.” She was still getting used to the idea.

“Cats are okay,” Dante said, surprising her.

“I would have thought you were the dog type. You know, slavish devotion and someone to play fetch with.”

“I don’t have any burning desire to play fetch, and I respect how cats make you earn their interest. Cats are like lawyers. Discreet, quiet and watchful.”

She managed to keep from choking as she laughed. “You’re a weird guy. You know that, right?”

“It’s been hinted at before.” He looked at the tree. “Your students are going to be excited.”

“I’m sure it will help with the holiday spirit.” She thought about what he’d told her about his upbringing. “What were Christmases like when you were a kid?”

He shrugged and reached for his glass of wine. “Quiet. Good. We didn’t have a lot of money and it was just my mom and me, but we had fun. We went to midnight services on Christmas Eve. I understood we were poor and didn’t expect a lot, but Mom always made the day special.” He hesitated. “I miss her at the holidays.”

Evie nodded. “Sure. She was your family.”

“She would have liked you.”

Evie told herself not to read too much into the statement. “Thank you. I would have loved to have met her.”

He sipped his wine. “What about you and your family?”

“Christmases were loud,” she said remembering her brothers getting the family up early to see all the presents. There were other memories—times when she’d felt left out, but she wasn’t in the mood to explore them.

“After my mom died and I was sent to the military school, Christmas was different,” Dante said. “They kept us on campus. My senior year, one of the sponsors invited a couple of us to his house for Christmas.” He reached for another slice of pizza and grinned. “Let’s just say it’s the first time I figured out the rich really are different.”

“Nice house?”

“Nice mansion. It was three stories, I don’t know how many bedrooms. I’d never seen a tree that big, even at the mall. The family had presents for us and a stocking. I’d never had a stocking before.”

“We always had stockings,” Evie said, remembering her twelfth Christmas, when her mother had given her lip gloss and mascara. An acknowledgement that the teen years weren’t that far away.

There were good memories, she reminded herself. Maybe instead of focusing on the ones that were bad, she should start looking for the more pleasant ones.

“Have you talked to Gideon?” Dante asked, his voice casual.

“About the narration? Not yet. He left me a message. I need to call him back. He said he has some ideas about the story. Why?”

“He mentioned it at the book wrapping.”

She glanced at Dante, wondering if she was imagining things or if he genuinely wasn’t pleased about her working with Gideon. In your dreams, she thought, taking a sip of her wine. While the idea of Dante jealous was kind of exciting, reality was very different. He’d made it clear what he was and wasn’t looking for in their relationship. Them being together was all about getting through the holidays, about having fun together. Neither of them was committed to anything else, and if she allowed herself to think anything different, she was opening herself up to a world of hurt.

Chapter Fourteen

“E
xtend,” Evie said, holding out her arm to demonstrate. “Reach and lift.” She turned slowly, then sank down into the final move.

Lillie smiled. “You’re so good,” she said with an easy smile. “When you do it, it looks right.”

“It looks right when you do it, too.” Evie stepped behind the girl so they were both facing the mirror. “Now lift and reach and lift.”

She moved with Lillie, lightly pressing her palm against the girl’s back to keep her straight.

“Lean, turn, stretch.”

Lillie did as instructed. She made one last turn and sank down, her fingertips curled delicately, her wrists perfectly bent.

“See,” Evie said approvingly. “That was perfect.”

Lillie jumped to her feet and spun in a circle. “I got it! I got it!”

“Look at you,” Patience said, walking in to the studio.

“Mom!” Lillie ran to her mother, her arms outstretched. “Did you see me?”

“I did. Lillie, that was beautiful.”

Lille dashed off to collect her coat. Patience turned to Evie.

“Thanks for working with her. I know she doesn’t get the steps as quickly as the other girls.”

“She works hard and has fun. As long as she’s enjoying the classes, I’m thrilled to have her. She’s a great kid.”

“Thank you.”

Evie knew that Dominique would say Lillie was one of the “unfortunates.” Those not blessed with the dancing gene. But Evie found a special kind of pleasure teaching the Lillies of the world. As far as Evie was concerned, if Lillie enjoyed herself and ended up with good memories about her part in the performance, then the experience was a total success for both of them.

“Are you staying sane?” Patience asked. “I heard the cheerleaders wanted your help with their Pom-Pom-A-Thon.”