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Time of My Life (Oceanic Dreams #2) Page 6
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His peal of laughter was so infectious, I joined him, the sound flying out to sea. “What?”
“You’re WIIIIILLLLLD!”
Chapter Seven
It had been months since glimpsed any of the suites. What I’d seen didn’t prepare me for the sight of Frank’s cabin. Even the balcony was nice, with soft-looking lounge chairs and a dining set facing out to sea. Curious, I reached over and shook one of the chairs. As suspected, bolted to the deck.
“You coming?” Frank asked from the open doorway.
“Yeah. Sorry.” I shook myself, but took two steps before stopping dead. “Wow.”
Before me lay the nicest room I’d ever seen. Thick, plush carpet covered the floors. Penny and I had cheap carpet with one of those floral prints that hid stains. Frank’s floor was a deep gray. The bed took up most of the left side of the room, with massive throw pillows lined across it. I noted with amusement that he’d stopped to make the bed before meeting me. Of course he had. Frank was probably the type who did hospital corners. Over the windows and glass doors hung the kind of drapes made of such luxurious, heavy cloth, you understand why someone might make a dress out of them. Large sashes held them open to let sunlight into the space, but I suspected the cabin would be as dark as my windowless room if we closed them. The curtains probably cost more than all my furniture.
To the right was a sofa, coffee table, and armchair, a living room as big as the one in my dad’s apartment where I grew up. There wasn’t a piece of clothing or suitcase in sight. “Where’s all your stuff?”
“In the drawers.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I like to feel at home, so I always unpack as soon as I arrive in a hotel room.”
Having never stayed anywhere other than a fleabag motel for a couple of weeks after we got evicted over my twelfth birthday, I didn’t know how to respond to that. “Okay. Let’s go over the steps.”
Luckily, the space between the bed and the living area allowed me to demonstrate the floor work we’d be doing with the routine. Then we used the walls to practice headstands. It wasn’t the perfect practice area, but I put Frank through the motions. Before long, he was sweating.
After a couple of hours, we stopped for a break. I filled two glasses of water from the pitcher on the bathroom vanity and joined Frank on the couch.
“You’re still in great shape,” I said. “When did you quit ballet?”
“During my junior year of college. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit me while I was walking home one night.”
A chill went down my spine at how close he’d come to getting killed. I put one hand on his knee. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. All things considered, I was very lucky. Broke both legs and my wrist.” He paused. “I don’t talk about it much.”
“Sorry to bring up a painful subject.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I was good, but I didn’t have the fire to make a career after it. My parents made a very generous donation to get me into my school’s ballet program. Besides, after that, I got interested in sports injuries and sports medicine, and here we are.”
“Good thing you did, or who would have taped up my ankle?”
“Exactly! It was kismet.” He glanced at me. I became very aware of my hand, still resting on his leg. He swallowed, and his pupils dilated. If I leaned in, our lips would touch. I wanted it so badly, but I couldn’t. The realization made me shift backward. If he touched me, I’d be as lost as Penny, still stuck on a man who’d abandoned her.
After a moment, Frank cleared his throat awkwardly. “What about you? How did you get into pole?”
“We grew up poor,” I said. “Me and my sister. And not like ‘well, we’ll keep the car for a couple of extra years before trading it in.’ Real poor. When tuna went on sale for ten cents a can, Dad used his last dollar to stock up and then we rationed it until payday. We didn’t go to the dentist, ever. We didn’t have a car, and we lined our shoes with cardboard found behind grocery stores to hide the holes.”
He flushed, reminding me that everything about this guy screamed money. I’d certainly never dreamed of medical school or owning an Apple watch or…taking a vacation.
“That must have been rough,” he said.
“Sometimes. Mostly, I didn’t know how bad it was. Heather and I were kids, going to school and doing homework and playing make believe games. But then, someone would show up in class with the newest tech or an expensive doll, and all I could think was how many meals it would have bought. Or the PTA mom would ask everyone to donate five dollars to buy a gift for the teacher, and I’d pretend to be sick that day because I couldn’t get the money. It wasn’t even worth asking Dad, because it wasn’t there.”
A lump formed in my throat at the memory, and I gazed down at my fingernails. Most people didn’t get it, couldn’t comprehend what it was like not to be able to find an extra few bucks. I didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He touched my wrist, held it until I looked up at him. To my surprise, his eyes weren’t full of pity–or worse, laughter. “That must’ve been difficult for a kid.”
“Thanks. It is what it is. Anyway, I dropped out of school when I was sixteen to get a job. Worked at the grocery store, the mall, the food court. Everything paid crap. Then one day, this older guy I was seeing took me to the local strip club. Used my sister’s ID to get in, although it turned out they didn’t card me.”
Frank chuckled. “Yeah, most of those places are glad if women show up at all.”
I continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “When I saw those dancers up on stage, it was intoxicating. First of all, the men were throwing money at them like it meant nothing. But then they brought out a pole, and this woman started flying around it. So beautiful, so graceful. More than anything, I wanted to do what she did.”
“I know that feeling.”
Of course he did. “The next day, I went back and waited outside for her. She wasn’t there, so I went back every day after work until she showed up. Told her how much I enjoyed watching her perform and asked her to teach me. She didn’t have a studio, so the only way I could learn was to get hired.”
“You were sixteen?”
“Yeah, but I still had my sister’s ID. And everyone uses stage names, so it didn’t matter that mine didn’t match.”
“What was your stage name?” I hesitated, and he smacked himself on the forehead. “Oh. Janey, right? I can’t believe I don’t even know your real name.”
A small smile crossed my lips. “My real name is Jane. Plain Jane.”
“You’re anything but plain,” he said.
The compliment made my entire body feel lighter, but I played it cool. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Then what? You got the job.”
“Yup. The boss gave me three days to watch and learn, serving drinks before taking the stage. From then on, I was on my own.”
“Trial by fire, huh?”
“Pretty much.” I smiled at him. “The other dancers helped. At first, I was scared and awkward. But then the men started responding to me. The more tricks I learned, the more they cheered. After a few months, I got good enough to dance on the weekends, then to headline. By the time I turned eighteen, this guy from another club approached me. Real classy place. Offered me a thousand dollar bonus to come work for him.”
“Nice.”
“It was like day and night. Where the first club was dingy, a little dark, this place had spotlights, a cover charge, private dances…Suddenly, instead of collecting ones and fives, I’ve got men stuffing hundred dollar bills into my panties. Offering me jewelry, cars, everything I ever wanted.”
“Sounds like a dream.” His tone gave nothing away.
I leaned back against the couch, allowing myself to sink into the fabric. “I know it’s not most people’s dreams. A lot of people look down on me for doing what I do. But I loved it. I loved the empowerment that comes from knowing ever
y eye in the room is on me. That men would pay thousands of dollars to sleep with me.”
“I wasn’t being sarcastic. I really meant, growing up so poor, you were living a dream.”
“Thanks.” I paused. “I never did, you know. Sleep with any of them. Some of the other dancers did, but I made enough stripping.”
“It wouldn’t matter,” he said. “It’s none of my business.”
I didn’t know if he meant it wasn’t his business because he didn’t care about my past or because he didn’t care about me as a person. I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Not now. We had four more days together. Then the ship would dock back in Miami. I’d move on to Seattle to join the Alaskan cruises for the next few months, and he’d…. do things with Nellie that made my stomach clench.
“What happened?” he asked, breaking into my thoughts. “After that fancy club, what brought you here?”
“Heather found out,” I said. “She got audited by the IRS for not reporting earnings she didn’t know she had. Told me that she’d tell our father if I didn’t stop. It sounds silly, I know, since I was an adult by then, but part of me couldn’t stand to see the disappointment in Dad’s eyes. So I started looking for ‘respectable’ dancing jobs.”
“And here you are.”
“Here I am. Making less than half what I got before, pouring my heart out like some fool, complaining about my sister.”
“You’re not a fool,” he said. “People who trust their partners dance better together. This is important. Are you glad she caught you?”
“It is what it is,” I said. “She’s older than me. Things weren’t as bad when she lived at home, before Dad got sick. She finished high school, went to community college, and moved out by the time I was fifteen. Dad and I were both so proud, we never wanted Heather to know how bad things got once he couldn’t work. The bills kept piling up, but we didn’t want to ask her for help. I always wonder what would have happened if we’d been closer in age.”
“Let me tell you, being the same age as your siblings isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he said. “That just makes it easy for them to cause trouble and blame it on you.”
“Yeah, maybe. Maybe it wouldn’t have been any better.”
Frank leaned over and took my hand in his. I put my head on his shoulder, grateful for the few minutes of peace before the studio reopened and we had to re-enter the real world.
Chapter Eight
Day Four: Grand Cayman
For the most part, cruise liners shut down while the ship was in port. They did this to encourage travelers to go ashore and contribute to the local economies of the places we visited. Members of the entertainment staff who didn’t also work in housekeeping or laundry didn’t have a lot to do between breakfast and dinner. Usually, I offered one-on-one classes by appointment. As soon as Frank had agreed to help, I scheduled a couple of random passengers into the morning slots. They would "cancel" at the last minute, freeing me up to work on the routine instead.
Penny drew the job of herding people to their pre-purchased excursions, so we went to breakfast together. Beneath the layers of makeup, her face was white, but thanks to the pills, she managed to pull herself together enough to handle the job. Most average cruise-goers wouldn’t notice the pallor beneath her naturally brown complexion or that she’d lost weight, even as her breasts grew larger.
Frank needed to spend part of the day in port with Lisa and his friends so they didn’t start asking questions. In the back of my mind, I knew he’d been spending time with Nellie over the course of the cruise–Penny saw them together while she handed out answer sheets at trivia one night. He couldn’t abandon his entire vacation, and I couldn’t ask him to do more than the daily practices. But we agreed to spend the morning going over the routine while his friends explored Grand Cayman, and he promised to talk to Lisa about Robbie before meeting me.
As usual, my pre-breakfast “Find Your Inner Diva” class was packed with travelers who wanted to get in a workout before spending the day exploring the island. I thrilled at getting to work with these women, show them some moves, and hopefully inspire them to take a class or two after returning home.
When class ended, I hung back as usual, stretching and going over the routine in my mind. A few students came up to ask follow-up questions and get pointers, and I welcomed the distraction to keep me from thinking about my growing crush on my new pole partner. Frank would be here soon enough, and all I could think about was the way he almost kissed me our first time alone in this very room. My pulse raced, thinking of the possibilities on a mostly-deserted ship. Which could never happen.
For the thousandth time, I reminded myself that he was only doing me a favor, that Frank was dating Nellie, that stealing the owner’s daughter’s boyfriend would get me fired, and that he was way, way out of my league. Chemistry between dancers on stage translated to an amazing performance. Chemistry off-stage would result in disaster. Better to keep my distance.
Before Frank arrived, I pulled my warm-up clothes back on, looking to add any barrier between us. He didn’t need me to demo most of the moves anymore. I could issue directions without getting too close.
He showed up right on time, as usual. “Hey.”
“Hey! How are the bruises this morning?”
“Lisa caught me rubbing butter on my feet last night.” He glared at me when I giggled. “Now she thinks I’m into something kinky. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“And your feet?”
He sighed. “No new bruises. I refuse to admit you were right about this, so now I immediately change the subject. How’s Penny?”
“She seemed better this morning. She’ll be here soon, so you can ask her yourself.”
“Excellent!” He rubbed his hands together, then stretched his arms over his head, one wrist pulling the other. The hem of his shirt followed, revealing a couple of inches of gorgeous tanned skin.
I forced myself to look away. “Yeah. Are you ready?”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” He saluted, which made me laugh.
We went through our stretches quickly, Frank having taken a run around the upper track during my class to jump start our workout. Then I walked him through the moves, starting with the most basic. Once he mastered the easy stuff, we’d go over the more difficult positions. He had the strength, the balance, the grace. Now he needed the confidence.
After the last early morning traveler disembarked for their excursions, Penny joined us. Her face was flushed for the first time in ages, and she wore a bright, real smile rather than the showgirl expression reserved for guests. “I did it! Rode back and forth and back and forth and didn’t feel sick at all. Frank, you’re a genius!”
“I’m not a genius, I’m a doctor,” he said. “Anyone in my position would have helped you. I’m just glad it worked. If you had HG, you’d have to be hospitalized and given fluids; the pills wouldn’t have helped. Looks like just a bad case of morning sickness.”
“Thank goodness,” I said.
“With that said, if it doesn’t stay better, you need to schedule an examination,” Frank said. “Immediately. I understand your situation, but you could be putting yourself and the baby at risk.”
“Don’t rain on my parade,” Penny said. “I feel great, and I want to see what I can do.”
She whipped off her shirt and pants, leaving a hot pink sports bra and black booty shorts. Frank barely glanced at her, which didn’t escape my notice. Then she leaned down and touched the floor, bouncing from one side to the other before dropping to the ground and continuing to stretch.
“Does this mean you’re back? You don’t need Frank to do the routine?” I held my breath waiting for her answer.
On the one hand, we’d worked so hard, it would be a shame for Frank not to be able to show off what he’d learned. On the other hand, we’d only been practicing a few days, we had a long way to go, and not much time to get there. Penny knew the routine cold.
If some part of me wasn’t ready
to say good-bye to Frank, I refused to acknowledge it. Everything would be better for both of us if he walked out that door and never looked back. My heart would recover.
“One thing at a time,” she said. “Right now, I’m here to help. I thought we could go through the routine so Frank can see how it looks with doubles. Then, he and I can do it so you can see his weak spots.”
“And then you’ll watch the two of us?” She nodded. Perfect. A perfect plan.
“That would be great,” Frank said. “Janey’s explained everything, but I need to see it.”
I changed quickly, and the two of us took our places. Frank pressed the button to start the music, and the familiar notes entered my consciousness. Stretch, sit up, swing. Climb. Twist, swing, drop. Penny moved a bit slower than usual, but every move felt right. I’d missed this. Dancing for the love of the dance, doing what I did best–without a hot, dancing doctor constantly making me wish passengers weren’t off-limits.
Lost in the moment, I didn’t notice that Penny stopped until Frank raced by me. My friend stood gripping her pole with her entire body like someone who’s riding the bus for the first time. The bottom fell out of my stomach.
I lowered myself to the ground and went to her. She stared at the ground, one hand over her mouth, swallowing repeatedly. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head.
Frank swore. “I never should have let her do the routine, not in her condition.”
I chafed at the idea that a woman needed a man’s permission to do her job. “Excuse me? Let her? Penny is a grown adult. She makes her own decisions.”
“Maybe, but I’m the doctor here,” he retorted. “One day without morning sickness doesn’t mean she’s at one hundred percent. I know better than anyone how dancers push themselves too hard.”