Take a Chance on Me (17 page)

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Authors: Kate Davies

BOOK: Take a Chance on Me
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“Be sure to save a dance for me,” she tossed over her shoulder as she swayed across the floor.

Tom looked at Celeste, who was watching the exchange with a knowing look on her face. He grimaced, muttering, “I know, I know. Someone needs to talk to her about appropriate dress for school functions. Just, please, don’t make it be me.”

Celeste grinned. “Coward.”

“Self-preservation,” he replied.

He turned his gaze back to the parking lot, watching the incoming students. They approached the cafeteria in pairs or groups, dodging the puddles that spread over the ground. Their laughter echoed off the sides of the building and the cars that filled the parking lot.

The girls seemed older, more sophisticated in their formal gowns, although some teetered a bit in their high heels. Some held purses over their heads, trying to shield their fancy hairdos from the drizzling rain. One or two carried umbrellas, to be added to the dripping pile next to the main doors.

The boys pulled awkwardly at the collars of their starched dress shirts, trying to loosen the bow ties probably knotted by Mom before leaving the house. They shuffled and elbowed each other, projecting to anyone who bothered to look that they were still macho, regardless of the monkey suits their girlfriends may have forced them into for tonight.

The arriving students jostled their way into the narrow entry, dropping wet umbrellas and rummaging in purses and pockets for their tickets. Their voices mingled with the music pulsating from the DJ stand behind him.

Tom glanced back at the dance floor. The room was starting to fill. Without turning around, he said, “I’m going to wander, Celeste. Can you hold down the fort for a minute or two?”

“Sure,” she replied. “Jessica can keep me company.”

Tom turned back, his pulse suddenly accelerating. There, framed in the open doorway, was Jessica.

Since the ferry ride—and its aftermath—two weeks earlier, he had gone out of his way to avoid her. Fewer complications, he’d told himself, even though he thought about her almost constantly. He’d even caught himself eavesdropping on students just to hear about play rehearsals and her homework assignments.

He hadn’t known if she still planned to chaperone, after the way their pseudo-date had ended.

But here she was. He had to clench his jaw to keep from blurting out how glad he was about that.

She was in the process of removing her wrap and folding it over one arm. The satin floral fabric shimmered against her pale skin.

Her dress was formal, like the other chaperones’, but it was as elegant as Gabriella’s was trashy. Wide satin straps skimmed her shoulders and crossed in the back. The bodice was trimmed in crystal beading along the neckline and waist. The deep blue velvet hugged her curves gently, then draped to the floor in a slim column skirt.

Droplets of rain sparkled in her hair, which was twisted up onto the top of her head in a complicated knot. Tendrils curled around her face. It looked stylish but not fussy, a perfect complement to her classic gown.

No one could ever mistake her for a student tonight.

She glanced up at Tom, a calm smile curving her berry-kissed lips. “Sorry I’m late.”

A moment passed, then two, and Celeste stepped in to cover his slack-jawed response to her arrival.

“Not at all,” she replied briskly. “Perfect timing. Tom was just going to walk the perimeter of the room, so I could use a partner here at the door.”

Tom avoided Celeste’s pointed stare and kept his attention on Jessica. God, he couldn’t stop looking at her. “Yes,” he said finally, “you can help Celeste here until I get back. Then I’ll give you your assignment.”

With what he hoped was a calm, professional nod, he beat a hasty retreat.

The music grew louder as he left the entryway and stepped into the cafeteria. Bright lights pulsated across the dance floor, where groups of teens bounced up and down to the beat. Like most dances, the students tended to pair off only during the slow songs.

Tom waved at students as he passed, receiving shouts of hello in return. Some tried to pull him into their dance circles, but he declined, promising to return when the DJ played something from his era. He smiled inwardly, wondering just what era these students thought of as his. He’d lay odds they were resigning themselves to a disco tune.

Or maybe Elvis?

Maybe working with kids kept a person young, but there were times when they made him feel really old as well.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of silver heading in his direction, and he turned towards the DJ stand. By the time Gabriella reached him, Tom was deep in shouted conversation with the DJ. After a couple of failed attempts to gain his attention, she gave up and sauntered past, turning the full force of her ample personality on Victor Sand, chemistry teacher and acknowledged introvert.

Tom noted with amusement that Victor’s prematurely balding scalp turned bright red as Gabriella leaned across him to claim a cup of punch off the refreshment table. From a distance, he couldn’t hear their conversation, but hoped Gabriella had found a new target for the remainder of the evening.

He said goodbye to the DJ and continued around the room, making a wide arc around the refreshment table in order to avoid Gabriella as long as possible. His steps slowed as he approached the entryway.

Jessica had thrown him completely off-balance with her appearance tonight. He was used to seeing her in conservative teacher-wear. Or covered up, like that night on the ferry. Even at Aphrodite’s, in casual jeans and T-shirt, she was cute in a fresh-scrubbed way. Attractive, of course, but not…

Stunning? Drop-dead gorgeous? A screen icon come to life? When she’d walked through that door, it was all he could do to keep his jaw off the floor. He’d been attracted to her before, but now he was completely lost. All self-control was swept away by an emerald-eyed goddess in a lush satin and velvet dress.

He stood in a pocket of shadow, watching Jessica from the cover of darkness. Celeste was too sharp to have missed his response to Jessica’s arrival. He had to be even more careful around her now. The last thing he needed was for the principal to get involved in this situation.

But here, out of view, he drank in the sight of her. She almost seemed to glow in the muted light of the entryway. His gaze traveled the length of her, a hunger growing deep in his gut. He wanted to skim his fingers over the soft velvet, press his body against hers, kiss those full lips.

“Hey, Mr. C. Looking good.” Startled, Tom turned to find a group of tuxedoed boys lounging at the edge of the dance floor. Even in their rented formal wear, they still managed to look as if they should be perched on skateboards while they weaved through the crowd. Tom grinned as they tapped their fingers to their foreheads in a vague facsimile of a salute.

“You boys having a good time?”

A young man with purple spiked hair glanced skyward. “The music bites, dinner was way expensive, and my date’s been in the john for fifteen minutes.”

“So that would be a yes, right?” Tom arched an eyebrow as the kid nodded sheepishly. “Good. I’ll see you around.”

He left them to their waiting and began to walk back to the entry. Thank God for the opportune distraction, or he would have needed to detour outside to cool off. Something about Jessica tonight made it almost impossible to keep his hormones under control.

She turned as he approached, her expression tranquil. He clenched his teeth, schooling his face to betray none of the attraction that lurked beneath the surface.

“Thanks for filling in,” he said, crossing to the ticket table. “Now that I’m back, you can go help out at the refreshment table.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Celeste interjected. “I’ll take the next punch watch. You two can finish up here and then monitor the dance floor.”

Tom opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut again as Celeste calmly strode across the cafeteria to the refreshment table.

“I guess I’ve been overruled,” he said, holding his hand out to take a couple’s dance tickets as they entered the room.

Jessica stamped the insides of their wrists to identify the couple as ticket holders. “I suppose Ms. Winters decided she needed a change of scenery.” She glanced at Tom through thick, dark lashes. “What’s punch watch anyway?”

“Every dance, some kid decides it would be a hoot to spike the punch. So we always station at least one chaperone at the punch table to make sure no one succeeds.”

Jessica nodded. “Better to be proactive.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

They worked in silence, standing side by side in the entryway. If he wanted to, Tom could have rested his chin right on top of Jessica’s shiny, sleek updo. If he wanted to.

Most of the students had arrived by now. The dance floor was packed, and the line for pictures snaked around the periphery of the room. Tom told the students working with them at the ticket table that they could head on in, and they escaped before he could change his mind.

And, of course, as soon as they were gone he wished he could call them back. Now he and Jessica were standing alone, shoulder-to-shoulder, staring out into an empty, misty parking lot. Behind them, the dance was in full swing.

An awkward silence grew between them. Tom kicked himself mentally, wishing he’d never taken her on that stupid ferry ride. Or, barring that, he wished he’d stopped the evening there, instead of at her house. He realized now just how much he missed the easy camaraderie that had developed between them since she’d started working at Summit.

If only he could stifle this almost overpowering attraction.

Tom cleared his throat and glanced at Jessica. “We should probably wander.” At her puzzled look he clarified, “Mingle with the students, walk through the dance floor, keep an eye on things. You miss too much just standing on the periphery.”

She nodded and turned to go. They walked together into the mix of loud music, flashing lights and exuberant teenagers.

Tom noted the number of students she greeted by name, stopping to compliment a hairstyle, a dress, the way a boy’s cummerbund and tie exactly matched his date’s gown. Even this early into her career, he could tell she was going to be one of those teachers who really cared about her students. Already, they were real people to her, not just names on a class roster.

“Lisa.” Jessica tapped the girl on the shoulder to catch her attention. Lisa spun around, her deep pink dress flaring around her ankles. A delighted grin wreathed her face as she pulled Jessica into a brief one-armed hug.

“Ms. Martin.” Giggling, Lisa pulled her date forward. “You know Scooby, don’t you?”

“I certainly do.” She held out her hand, and Tom stifled a grin as Scooby disentangled himself from Lisa briefly to shake hello. As soon as the social niceties were over, he wrapped an arm around Lisa’s waist and pulled her close. “So how long have you two been an item?”

“Just a little while,” Lisa shouted over the music. “I finally got up the nerve to ask him to Tolo last week.”

Tom grinned and punched Scooby gently in the shoulder, and the boy ducked his head sheepishly. “I shoulda asked her out first,” Scooby said, “but this was cool too.”

“You two have fun,” Jessica said, and turned to make her way off the dance floor.

Tom smiled at the couple and followed after Jessica. Suddenly, two girls grabbed his hands and pulled him into their group. “Dance with us, Mr. C. You promised.”

Vaguely, he was aware that a Beatles tune was playing. “Hey!” he protested. “
This
is the song from my era?” His objection ignored, Tom found himself surrounded by a dozen or so teenagers in formal wear, shaking their booties to the Fab Four. He shrugged and joined in. He couldn’t knock their choice of groups, even if they were off by a decade or three.

The group expanded as the song continued, the catchy beat and exuberance of the dancers pulling more students into the crowd. Other teachers joined in as well, until Tom’s mob covered almost half the dance floor.

He was demonstrating the Twist when he bumped into the person on his left. “Sorry,” he shouted over the music, turning to apologize further.

“No problem,” Jessica yelled back, bumping her hip against his as payback.

His heartbeat sped up at the physical contact. He’d missed the inadvertent touches, the soft brushes of her hand against his. Since that night they’d spent together he had felt more isolated than he had in years.

Lost in thought, he was startled to discover the group of students had dissipated. A popular slow song had replaced the Beatles, and couples had paired off, leaving him standing alone on the dance floor, a few other singles drifting away.

At the edge of the dance floor he saw Gabriella slinking toward him with a determined look on her face. Desperate, he whirled in a circle, his gaze falling on Jessica. She was a few feet away, chatting with Lisa and Scooby again.

He covered the distance in two strides, reaching out to cup her elbow. She turned, startled, and looked at him with a question in her eyes.

“Dance with me.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.

“Please,” he pleaded, his eyes flicking to the rapidly approaching Gabriella.

She followed his gaze, her mouth pursing into a perfect O as she comprehended the situation. Without hesitation, she placed her hand on his shoulder and stepped into the circle of his embrace.

Chapter Eleven

It felt too good.

Jessica closed her eyes. The music thrummed in her veins, a slow, seductive rhythm echoing the beat of her heart. Beneath her hand, the rich fabric of his tuxedo overlaid a strong shoulder. Her other hand twined with his, fingers interlocked as they swayed to the music.

The heat of his palm radiated outward from its resting place in the small of her back. She sucked in a breath, noting his clean crisp scent. Fabric softener and soap, and underlying it all, the uniquely male scent of Tom.

She drifted closer as he spun her in a tight circle, shutting out the crowd around them. She rested her cheek against his chest, noting that the top of her head just brushed his chin—a perfect fit. He tucked her hand against his heart as he pulled her near.

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