Title Wave (23 page)

The whole idea of a dance-off seemed a bit silly to Tricia, but she had promised Mary she'd try to attend, and really, she didn't have anything better to do but read . . . and, oh, how she wanted to do just that.

She picked up her glass and drank the remnants. She eyed Angelica over the rim. “I'm ready. Let's go.”

Tricia looked
at herself in the mirror and wasn't displeased with what she saw. She'd bought the new cocktail dress during the shopping trip to Boston she, Ginny, and Angelica had made before the cruise, although she hadn't been entirely sure she'd get the chance to wear it. The bodice of the little black dress bore sequins, and the jacket was tailored, giving the illusion that she was taller than her five-foot-seven-inch frame. She'd condescended to buy a pair of low heels instead of her usual flats, but she knew Angelica, in stilettos, would still tower over her. How she could wear those shoes that not only threatened her Achilles tendons, but conspired to topple her, remained a mystery to Tricia.

She left her bedroom and switched off the lights. The door to Angelica's side of the suite was open, and Tricia found her sister in the bathroom touching up her makeup. “Almost ready?”

Angelica whisked the blush brush across her cheeks one more time, then inspected her lipstick, which was perfect. “I am now. Isn't this going to be fun?”

“I don't know about fun, but I hope Mary at least places.”

“She doesn't honestly think she can win, does she?” Angelica said, shooing Tricia into the lounge and turning off the light behind her.

“She said she felt confident.”

“Well, then let's hope she does. It sure can't hurt to have the entire Stoneham contingent rooting from the sidelines.”

The sisters gathered up their purses, making sure their keycards were inside, and left the suite. As usual, the corridors seemed curiously empty until they came closer to the lifts, where a small crowd was waiting. In no time, the doors opened and they all crowded inside. The button was already pressed for Deck 2. It looked like the dance competition was the big draw that evening.

Tricia and Angelica followed the crowd to the Crystal Ballroom and were surprised to find a packed house. “Oh, dear. Where will we sit?” Angelica asked, looking around, but then Tricia saw Mr. Everett standing at a ringside table for six on the far side of the room, waving.

“It's good to have friends in high places,” Tricia said, and nudged Angelica to follow.

Mr. Everett was decked out in a dark suit with a sedate maroon tie, while Grace was dressed to the max in a navy sequined full-length gown. “Oh, Grace, you look gorgeous,” Angelica said.

“I haven't been this dressed up in ages,” she said, and actually giggled.

“You look very handsome, too, Mr. Everett,” Tricia said as she sat, and Mr. Everett pushed in her chair, then did the same for Angelica.

“Thank you.”

Just then, a waiter in a white tuxedo arrived with a champagne bucket and bottle of bubbly. “Oh, this is a nice surprise,” Angelica said.

“I thought it might be nice to toast to Mary's success,” Grace said.

The waiter poured a smidgeon for Grace to taste; she approved the selection, and the waiter poured for the four of them. “To Mary.” They raised their flutes.

“To Mary,” Tricia and Angelica said.

“To Ms. Fairchild,” Mr. Everett chimed in.

They drank. Angelica was the first to speak again. “I'm surprised to see such a big turnout. I mean, I knew ballroom dancing TV shows were big, but didn't realize they had such broad appeal.”

“The Brits have had ballroom dance shows for ages. It never went out of fashion there,” Grace pointed out. “And the Irish are spectacular dancers, too.”

“I take it Antonio and Ginny will be arriving soon?” Angelica asked.

“There was some talk about them not getting a babysitter,” Grace said. “Perhaps one of them will come.”

“Ginny didn't sound too enthused when she mentioned it yesterday,” Tricia said.

“Oh, dear,” Angelica said, sounding disappointed.

And then, as if she'd wished on a star, Antonio appeared, resplendent in his black tuxedo. For a moment, Tricia wasn't sure if her sister might combust from the fierce look of maternal pride that seemed to radiate from her. “Sit by me, sit by me,” Angelica encouraged Antonio.

“Why of course, dear lady,” Antonio said as Tricia moved to the next seat to accommodate them.

“No babysitter?” Tricia asked.

“Ginny is content to spend the evening with a good book—one she bought at the author signing the other day. What have I missed?”

“Nothing so far,” Tricia assured him as Mr. Everett leaned over to pour him a glass of champagne.

“I was concerned I'd miss the beginning of the competition,” Antonio said, consulting his watch. “They must be running late.”

From across the room, Tricia saw that EM's publisher's lawyer,
Harold Pilger, stood in the aisle at the far end of the ballroom. He seemed to be scanning the plethora of tables that ringed the dance floor in horseshoe fashion, finding no openings. He caught her eye and waved.
Oh no
, she thought as Pilger wasted no time and charged forward, dodging around the tables until he made his way to where Tricia sat.

“Is this seat taken?”

“Well—”

“No,” Angelica said affably. “Please join us.”

Pilger sat next to Tricia, giving her a thankful smile. She made the introductions as a string of well-dressed men and women emerged from the side of the stage. Each of the men had a cardboard placard hanging on his back with large black numbers against a stark white background. Mary and her partner, Ed, the retired shoe salesman, were number fifty-seven, although there couldn't have been more than twenty couples on the dance floor and lined up at the side of the room.

Millicent Ambrose stepped onto the small dais, moving to stand next to a microphone stand. She looked elegant in a white sheath with a bolero jacket piped in navy blue, giving her a nautical flair. Trailing behind her were three other people, one of whom was author Diana Lovell, who waved to her blog sisters who occupied another of the ringside seats. One of the other judges was Cathy Copper, followed by a man Tricia didn't know. Why would Cathy be judging a dance contest, especially after making such rude comments about those who took lessons? Although Tricia had to admit she didn't exactly seem thrilled to be there. Had Millicent cornered her and gotten her to agree during a moment of weakness?

Tricia watched as the judges sat on chairs behind a draped table with placards giving their names. Meanwhile, a combo began assembling on the other side of the stage, consisting of a sax player, a guy with an electric guitar, a fellow with a stand-up base, and a drummer. All were dressed in black tuxes, looking dapper. On the sidelines were
several still and video photographers. No doubt a professional DVD of the event would be available for purchase come morning.

Millicent tested the microphone, then addressed the crowd.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the
Celtic Lady
's Dance Challenges. Our judges this evening are author Diana Lovell, celebrity chef Larry Andrews, and editor Cathy Copper. Let's give them a warm round of applause.”

The audience did just that.

“And let's not forget the wonderful Jerry Hammond Combo.”

More applause followed as the band members took a bow.

“We'll start out with the first heat, progressing until all contestants have had a chance to strut their stuff”—the audience roared—“and then the eliminations will begin. And now, let's dance!”

The lights above the audience dimmed, and the band launched into a jaunty tune with a Latin beat as the competitors began to mambo.

“Isn't this fun!” Angelica practically squealed.

Tricia had to admit the twirling disco ball, the sparkling dresses, and the men all dressed in tuxes—some of them in tails—were rather exhilarating. Best of all, Mary and her gentleman dance partner seemed to be the best of the passenger contestants. Tricia watched them moving back and forth in perfect synchronization and wondered how Mary had hidden such dancing talent from the entire village for so long. Had she taken classes as a child? There was a story there; Tricia hoped she'd get to hear about it before their bus rolled to a halt back on the streets of Stoneham.

The judges seemed to be carefully watching each of the contestants, jotting down notes, pointing at various dance teams, and consulting with one another. Meanwhile, Angelica topped up the champagne glasses. The music was so loud, and there were cheers and catcalls, with the audience calling out the numbers of their favorite contestants, that conversation was impossible. Tricia had had no idea that audience
participation would be so exuberant. Everyone seemed enthused. Everyone but Harold Pilger, whose gaze seemed to be fixed on the judges more than the contestants.

After the music died, the next group of dancers took to the floor. This time, the band played a tango. Tricia noticed Mary, now on the sidelines, carefully checking out her competition. All the couples were good, but Tricia couldn't seem to sit still as she waited for the tune to finish and the last group of contestants came onto the floor to dance a waltz.

When the tune ended, the contestants went back to stand with their peers, looking nervous as the judges conferred for several tense minutes.

“Do you think Mary will be called back?” Grace asked anxiously.

“She has to,” Angelica said with authority. “She and her partner were the best in her group.”

Finally, the judges handed Millicent a card, and she approached the microphone once more. “From the first group, the judges have called back contestants forty-four, thirty-two, and fifty-seven!”

The ballroom broke out in raucous applause, whistles, and cheers.

“Thank goodness Mary made the first cut,” Tricia said with relief.

“I can't believe how much I'm enjoying this,” Angelica said, grinning. “Now I want to learn ballroom dancing.”

“I do not think Ginny would be interested, but I might like to try it. Perhaps we should take lessons together, dear lady,” Antonio said.

Angelica's mouth dropped in shocked surprise. “Do you mean it?”

“I would not say so if I didn't mean it.”

Angelica grinned. “Wouldn't I look stunning on the dance floor in a flowing gown adorned with feathers and sequins?”

“You look lovely every day, Ms. Miles,” Mr. Everett said with sincerity.

“Oh, you're just saying that because it's true,” Angelica replied, and the rest of the table dutifully laughed. Expect for Pilger, that is. He was still watching the judges.

The competitors had assembled on the dance floor once again.
Millicent announced they'd be doing a foxtrot, and the band began to play. Once again, Mary and her partner were obviously the best dancers. Their posture and timing were impeccable. They looked as though they'd been dancing together for a lifetime, not mere days, and Tricia marveled at their skill. It was no surprise, therefore, when they passed every round of eliminations.

There were only three couples left on the dance floor after the judges gave their scorecards to Millicent. “And for our last round, our dancers will be performing the cha-cha!”

Hoots and cheers of approval rang out through the ballroom as the dancers assembled on the floor once more.

“This is the final dance. I know Mary's going to win. I just know it!” Grace cried with glee, and raised her hands in the air, clapping with wild abandon. Tricia stifled a giggle as she noticed a blush rise up Mr. Everett's neck, stalling at his cheeks as he took in his usually poised wife, who'd given in to her unbridled enthusiasm.

The music started, and all eyes turned to the dance floor once again. It was obvious to all assembled who were the best dancers: Mary and her partner. Tricia found herself watching their fleet feet and inwardly counted,
One, two,
cha-cha-cha—one, two, cha-cha-cha!
There was no way those two weren't going to win the competition.

Tricia's gaze was so fiercely focused on the couple, that it took a moment or two before she noticed movement in the aisle across the ballroom. Arnold Smith rode his scooter up and down, his gaze fixed not on the dancers, but on the crowd at ringside. It looked as though he was trying to figure out the timing to cross the dance floor. But surely he wouldn't be thoughtless enough to try such an irresponsible move.

Suddenly Arnold hunched forward, taking aim, and seemed to gun the scooter's speed control before he barreled right into the middle of the floor, just missing the stunned woman contestant in the flowing green dress and her equally flabbergasted partner.

“Oh, no!” Tricia cried, jumping to her feet as Mary cha-cha-cha'd with her back to the jerk on the scooter. The crowd cried out with a warning that came too late as Arnold plowed right into Mary, who flew into the air, nearly somersaulting over the scooter's handlebars and falling into an inelegant heap on the floor. Her scream of pain cut through the din, and the drummer kept the beat while the sax player blew a sour note and the guitarist stopped in mid-chord.

Chaos seemed to reign as several men and women in formal wear rushed onto the stage to see if they could help—Tricia among them.