Lovers' Dance (48 page)

Nathan relaxed in the chair, relief pouring from his eyes. Matt’s mouth tightened in displeasure. He knew exactly why Nathan suddenly looked relieved. It was obvious his friend was under the mistaken impression that Matt would change his mind over this issue. A year was a long time for Matt to stay with one woman, but that was prior to knowing and loving Madi. It never ceased to amaze Matt the way he’d subconsciously divided his life: pre-Madi and post-Madi. 

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Matt warned resolutely. “So wipe that smug look off your face.”

Nathan shrugged and ran his index finger delicately over an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

Matt narrowed his icy grey eyes dangerously and Nathan avoided his gaze. There were a few seconds of silence before Matt responded. “Nathan, you need to get your head around this. Soon. Madi is going to be my wife and nothing is going to stand in my way of making it happen. Now, I need to run through these figures with you. Something doesn’t add up with the planned takeover, and Dad and I are beginning to suspect the CEO at Hydroworld is up to no good.” 

Matt’s abrupt change to business signalled the end of the discussion concerning his personal life. Nathan knew it and didn’t press the issue. To do so would only incur his friend’s anger. Matt was completely smitten with the girl, and it was becoming more and more apparent there was nothing Nathan could do about it. It wasn’t that Nathan didn’t like her. Hell, he found her charmingly sweet, yet outrageous. But Nathan didn’t want his dearest friend to get hurt, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that Matt’s ongoing relationship with Madison DuMont would end in heartache for all parties involved. Bella, too, seemed under some sort of spell where it concerned the young woman. They’d met for the first time last night, and she was already planning girly outings to ask Madi on. Even though Bella shared his concern that Matt was rushing into things, she was downright ecstatic Louisa Gilliford no longer held Matt’s attention. Yes, there was definitely something about Madison DuMont that bewitched people. Nathan would have to keep himself immune to it. His voice might be the only one of reason when it all went tits up.

He flashed Matt a rueful smile. “Before we start that, I’ve been instructed by Bella to invite you and Madi over to ours for dinner.”

Matt was flicking through files on his desk and he plucked one out, handing it over to Nathan. “I’ll check our schedules, then get back to you. Madi’s insanely busy like I am. Have a look through that for me, will you? Tell me what you think of their bottom line figures.”

The two men bent their heads. Their work day had started. It promised to be a long, stressful one, but that was no different to any other day in the office. Unknown to each other, both men harboured the same private thoughts: the sooner the day ended, the sooner they could see their women.

FIFTEEN

I HAD JUST gotten off the phone with Matt. He sounded swamped at work and advised me he’d probably be leaving his office late. That was fine with me. I need some distance between us to think things over. Whenever I was near him, logic went out the window. We had our final lineup of dancers and the training for our upcoming production would begin in earnest tomorrow. My Monday had been productive, like I’d predicted. The lunch with Geoffrey went great. It was nice seeing him. His dark brown hair had a few more strands of grey since the last time we saw each other, and his usual tan seemed non-existent. I tucked the document he’d needed my signature for into my bag. I had already made a copy and placed it in the filing cabinet in my office. The originals I always kept at home. Half the time Geoffrey would donate funds to my dance company, the other half we had an agreement where he would loan us a sum of money to ease the financial costs that came with any major production and we would repay it from our ticket sales. Those times, my company rarely broke even. I needed to step up my sponsorship drive. I smiled to myself, feeling positive over my day. Even things with the potential new artistic director seemed promising. Although, right before he’d left the building, I had the strangest notion the reason he seemed eager to come on board was due to the recent press interest in me. Ah, well, his CV was impressive. I didn’t care about his reasons behind considering the job, as long as he took it.

The door to my office opened and Lisa entered. “Madi, one of our instructors has called in sick. We don’t have cover for the four thirty intermediate dance class. Can you sort it?”

My smile dimmed a bit, but I nodded. “No prob, Lis. I’ll take the class. Remind me later where they’re up to. Who normally has that class? Is it Paula?”

Lisa nodded with a raised eyebrow. I sighed as my smile disappeared completely.

“That’s like what? The fourth time in two weeks she’s left us in the lurch?” I asked.

“Yes, I’ll leave it in your capable hands. Dante wants you to call the costume designers, like now. We need to put the order in if everything is to be sorted for opening night.”

I immediately went to sit behind my desk, reaching for the phone. Lisa stood in the doorway and I paused, a questioning look on my face.

“Was there something else, Lis?”

She folded her arms and sent me a toothy grin. “Saw pictures of you and your fit bloke.”

“What? Where? When?”

Lisa chuckled. “This morning on the Internet, some fancy party at the Tower last night. I still can’t believe you’re hanging out with toffs.”

“Shut up. Matt isn’t a toff, he’s doing well for himself.”

Lisa’s chuckle turned into a cackle. She laughed so much she needed to lean against the door frame to avoid falling down. “Doing well for himself. Oh, Madi, you’re too much. He’s minted.”

I tossed a pen in her direction. “Shut up, Lis.”

She cackled harder and started singing about me and Matt kissing in a tree. Really. The level of immaturity possessed by my friends was astounding. After a couple more pen launches, she closed my door. I could hear her singing as she went down the hallway. With a loud, embarrassed sigh and a shake of my head, I called the company we used for our costumes. It was a thirty minute call that ended with the agreement for me to go in later this week to have a face-to-face chat and look over the designs. With that done, I took a moment to think about Grumps’s words.

Cutting. Cold. Cruel. The three C’s. He was polite though. Manners, nothing quite like manners. Matt’s granddad had broken it down for me. Painted a realistic picture of what the future held in store for my relationship with Matt. Oh, and clever. I amended my three C’s to four. Grumps was very clever. My four went to five as I added calculating.

It was as if he had delved into my mind and plucked all my secret fears from it. He had explained in his posh voice about the futility of our relationship. The too many differences that, at first, would seem exciting but would soon turn to resentment when Matt and I didn’t see eye to eye. The facts that Matt was much older than me, had experienced much more than me, lived a completely different life from mine. All these things William Bradley, Sr had stated without compassion. The worst bit of our conversation was when he’d asked me point blank if I hoped to sink my claws into Matt by ‘accidentally’ getting pregnant. I had been so shocked that words wouldn’t come out my mouth. Grumps was cruel, no doubt. He had informed me that any such misdeed would result in severe repercussions, emotional and financial. He’d gone on to say that, if I did anything as underhanded as that, only the child would suffer. A child who would be confused as to its identity. A child who, when it was old enough to understand, would know its mother was a mercenary whore. How would this imagined child know I was a mercenary whore? Because it would be told by Matt’s family, who would use every legal loophole to take it away from me.

God. I was only twenty-six, almost twenty-seven. But who the fuck thought about babies at that age? Not me.

I was a dancer. Didn’t he know what a pregnancy would do to my body, to my beloved career?

Cantankerous, old ass. But, as it always happens, you never say what you should say when it should be said. I had sat in the back of Grumps’s car, lips stuck together, reeking of alcohol, and fighting not to cry from his harsh assessment of what the future held for us. I should have told him to kiss my black ass. I didn’t want Matt for his money or his stupid sperm to get at his money. I loved him, but sometimes love wasn’t enough. The baby talk had stressed me the freak out. Grumps had a valid point. That’s what made it worse. God forbid Matt and I had a child. Would Matt be disappointed because it didn’t look exactly like him? Would he resent the child because of this? Treat it differently than if he had a baby with a white woman? Would the child be raised isolated from one side of its background?

Why the fuck was I even thinking about this shit?
I was not getting pregnant. By anyone. I was a ballerina. If I got knocked up, my hips would never be the same. No, the reason why I needed to rethink my relationship with Matt was family. Family meant everything to me and, I knew despite what Matt said, he loved his own family dearly. I would never allow anyone to make me choose them over my family. It was a package deal. It would be hypocritical of me to turn around and ask it of anyone.

Neither one of our respective families felt happy about this relationship. We were doomed from the start. I needed to start distancing myself from my sweet knight. As much as it hurt to imagine Matt not being in my life, I knew it was the best thing to do. The thought of him at odds with those closest to him because of me made my heart ache.

Family was everything. My family was incomplete. I wished it wasn’t, but life was funny that way. If my parents were alive, I would’ve been close to them. I had lost out on that most important relationship. I wouldn’t let Matt risk his family’s love to be with me. I couldn’t be the reason he fell out with his family. That, in my view, was worse than anything. No way would I tear Matt away from his family. They loved him terribly, and I wasn’t going to be the sword that broke that bond.

And just like that, my productive day turned into a shit day. When Dante walked into the office an hour later, he found me morosely staring at my clasped hands on our desk, eyes swimming with unshed tears. He didn’t say anything at first, just came over and pulled me up into his warm arms. After a few moments of his comforting embrace, he lifted my head off his shoulder and cupped my cheeks with his hand. He saw the sadness lurking in the depths of my eyes, saw the moist shine of my eyes, saw the battle to struggle through my tormenting grief in my eyes.

“It’s okay to miss them, sweet cheeks. It’s okay to cry. We’ll get through this time of year like all the others before.”

“Get wasted,” I sniffed, forcefully swallowing down the lump in my throat, “and dance my pain away.”

“Yep.” He nodded. “But our peeps are coming again this year.”

A small smile lifted my mouth. “Bret and Marie-Sol?”

“Yep,” Dante said. His dark brown eyes peered into mine. “We’ll get through it, Madi. We always do.”

<><><>

“What are you wearing?” Matt asked seductively. I glanced down at my oversized t-shirt, sweat pants and worn socks. Not very sexy. Plus, I had a face mask on.

“Not a stitch,” I replied, flicking through the channels on my TV. It was on mute. Matt thought I was in bed. I was waiting for a late night horror flick to start.

“Mmm, that’s a nice image, poppet. I could just picture you right now naked in bed with my hands all over you.” He let out a long, shaky breath down the line. “Bloody hell. I’ve missed you today.”

“Mhmm.” My response was non-committal. I was trying for the distance thing, obviously failing with that previous ‘not a stitch’ comment.
Damn.
Even on the phone Matt was hot. Then someone knocked on my front door. I frowned slightly. It was nine forty-five pm on a Monday night. Who the hell knocked on doors at this time?

“Give me a second, Matt.” I quickly pressed the mute on my cell and jumped up to answer the door.

It was my neighbour, holding out my empty cake stand and cover.

“Hi, Mr Fergueson. Wow. Did you eat it all already?” I asked. He’d been pleased with my thank you cake, even though I had rushed to get it done when I came home earlier.

“No, no, of course not,” he corrected me. “I put it on a different plate. I wanted to return your dish.”

I smiled politely and took my stuff. “Okay, well, good night.”

“Good night,” he said, and I closed my door. I walked back over to the couch and put the stand and cover on the coffee table.

I resumed my conversation with Matt, pressing the mute icon. The line was silent. My eyes widened and I pressed the screen again.

“Uh…hello?” I asked.

“Poppet,” Matt started dryly. “You shouldn’t open your door at this time of night, especially if you’re supposedly naked.”

I gulped. “You heard all of that?”

Matt laughed, a deep sultry laugh that made me smile. “I did, and you’ve ruined my fantasy. You’re probably in sweats with your hair all wild and a face mask on.”

I jerked halfway off the couch, peering around my living room suspiciously. “Matthew Bradley, have you installed surveillance cameras in my house? I swear, if I find a hidden camera in here I will sue you for an invasion of my privacy.”

Matt laughed again, this time full of pure amusement. “So American, always with this quest for legal compensation. No, poppet, I have not installed cameras in your living room, although you have me thinking now. Maybe the bedroom so I can watch you—”

“Oh, stop it. Listen, you need to get off your cell and finish whatever it is you’re doing in that office of yours, then go home and get some rest.”

“Mobile, poppet, the word is mobile, and I’m locking my desk as we speak. Is it too late for me to stop by?”

I inhaled sharply, lust exploding inside me like an atom bomb. “Yes, Matt. Go home and get some rest.”

“But I miss you terribly,” he cajoled.

I fought the lust raging through me. Darned thing was threatening to overwhelm me. “We saw each other this morning, and have you forgotten what we got up to last night?”

“Poppet, the memory of what we did is the only thing that got me through today, but you’re right, it is late. Dinner date tomorrow then, no sex this time.”

I fiddled with the edge of my t-shirt. Once again it was an order, not a request. Matt would never change.

“I can’t, Matt. We have all our temporary dancers and will be showing them the choreography from tomorrow. I’ll be at the studio late.”

Matt sighed unhappily down the phone. I could picture the scowl on his face.

“Wednesday, then,” he said firmly.

“Matt.” I kept my tone even. Any uncertainty he would exploit to get his own way. “This is a busy time for me, I doubt I’ll have any free time until late next week.”

There was silence on his end, then a stern, “Madison, I’m not waiting until late next week to see you. Either you pick a day or I will, and it
is
going to be this week.”

When he sounded that strict it was pointless arguing, he always won in the end.

“I’ll see what I can do, Matt,” I said grumpily.

“No, poppet, don’t see, just do,” he warned, then he changed the topic quickly. “How was your lunch meeting?”

“Fine. Hey, I forgot to tell you before, I got a bouquet of roses from your ex. There was a card apologizing for last night. Can you believe that?”

“Really?” Matt didn’t sound as surprised as I expected. “Well, at least she apologized. Forget about her, poppet. I was thinking we should have my parents over for dinner this weekend. We can go to my place in Surrey and they’ll have a proper chance at getting to know you better.”

I mimed shooting myself in the head, then froze, glancing around warily. Had the clock on the mantle place been moved? I was certain its previous position was closer to the edge. It now sat in the middle, aimed perfectly at my living room.

“Uh,” I said getting up and going over to check for surveillance devices in my clock. “Can I get back to you on that?”