Come Dancing (8 page)

“Dropped my smokes,” she mumbled. What remained of her lipstick was smeared, and her eye shadow had bled to her cheek. Her shoulder-length shag, an unnatural blonde with coppery highlights, was flattened against her face. I crouched and picked up her cigarettes from the gritty mat. “Come on, let’s go in,” I said, shivering.

Later as I tried to get to sleep, I wondered if my Dad was going to come back for me. Ever since he’d left in September, I’d envisioned him pulling up to the house, saying, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I had to get myself situated. Go pack your things.” At first I’d given him a deadline of Christmas, but when the holidays came and went with no phone call, I’d decided he just needed to get set up wherever he’d landed. Now I wondered if he was ever going to show.

I blamed Dot one hundred percent for the destruction of our family. And after all that, her affair with her manager had only lasted six weeks, and then she’d had to quit because it was too awkward to keep working together. To my mind, she almost deserved having to worry so much over paying the bills. And I loathed the way she chased after men. The older I got, the more I picked up on the desperation in her voice when she talked to them on the phone.

That night, I’d turned my face to the wall and watched the shifting shadows from the occasional passing headlights. In the morning, I dragged myself out of bed to call my mother’s new boss at the convenience store to tell him that, yet again, she was feeling “fluish” and wouldn’t be in today. I knew it was only a matter of weeks before she got fired.

Harvey stopped in my doorway. “I have someone for you to meet,” he said. “This is Briar Greene. She’s coming from
TownTalk
magazine to join us in editorial.”

A smug-looking girl about my age stood beside him, surveying me with a self-assured smile. Wearing a stylish suit that showed a lot of leg, she gave me a dismissive glance. “I majored in Lit at Princeton, so I always wanted to get into books,” she said in a boarding school lockjaw.

“Julia’s also an assistant editor. She can show you where the bodies are buried,” Harvey said. “I expect great things of Briar. She has an incredible rolodex from her year at the magazine.”

With that, he led her down the hall toward publicity. I stared at the piles of paper on my desk, shaken by the directly competing hire. With Briar sharing my position, we’d both be vying for the next rung on the ladder.
This is how he repays me after all the grunt work I’ve done for him?
I thought miserably.

Meredith poked her head in. “Did you meet the new person?”

“I just did. She let me know within the first sixty seconds that she’d gone to Princeton.”

Meredith shut the door behind her. “Harvey’s always impressed with the fancy schools. I don’t see why he needs anyone else; you keep on top of everything.”

“He mentioned her amazing rolodex,” I said dispiritedly. “I’m really in shock. Is he trying to edge me out?” A chill ran down my spine as I thought of Daphne’s firing.

“I suppose he thinks she has some great contacts from being at
TownTalk
.” Meredith gave me a motherly pat. “But she doesn’t look like the type to work her fingers to the bone, and that’s the only way to get ahead. If it doesn’t pan out for her here, she can always take her Princeton degree back to magazines, where it’s more glamorous.”

The Girl Can’t Help It

All Saturday, my nerves were jangling. I had stopped by Vicky’s that afternoon, and her clingy black party dress was now hanging from a nail on my wall. Just looking at it made me even more jittery.

By ten I had my makeup on and was bopping around to Little Feat in my jeans. Jack called to say he’d be there soon. There was a lot of noise in the background, so I assumed he was still at the studio and didn’t rush to put on the dress. Shortly thereafter I heard someone on the street. I went to the window and stuck my head out. It was Jack, peering up at me from below.

“Rapunzel! Throw down your key.”

I laughed. “I’ll be there in a second.”

“ ’Punzel! Toss it down.”

Why didn’t I finish getting ready? I hope he doesn’t think my place is pathetic
. I stuffed my key in the sock and threw it to him, then I opened my door and listened to him tromping up the steps.

“Whew, that’s some climb,” Jack said, handing me the sock. He wore a tawny jacket over a silky peach-colored shirt and tight black pants that accentuated the muscles in his thighs. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, and his dark hair was sticking up all over.
He looks amazing
, I thought as he took off his jacket and laid it on my chair.
I haven’t been this nervous since I presented my thesis to a roomful of professors. Come to think of it, that doesn’t even compare
.

“How are you, Miss Julia?” Jack said, smiling at me.

“I’m fine. Do you want a beer? I just have to get dressed.” I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet to release a little tension.

“Sure, I’ll take a beer. It’s warm in here; you don’t have your AC on?”

“I don’t have air conditioning. I get a good cross-breeze from the windows.”

I meant for him to sit on my couch, but he followed me to my fridge. “I see you have your books and records.” He indicated my wooden crates stacked on top of each other. I handed him a bottle, and he went past me to the back of the room. “These your outfits?” he asked, inspecting my clothes hanging there.

“This place didn’t come with a closet, so I just put a few nails in the wall. Maybe not the best decorating move.”

He swung over to my futon, which was covered with piles of paper. “What’s all this?”

“That’s Timothy Collins’s book. I’m trying to move things around; it helps to separate the chapters. I don’t have a table big enough.”

“You pick all that up every night?”

“Once in a while I just sleep on the couch.”
Nice one, Julia. You sound like some lonely spinster
.

Jack went to the sofa and pushed down on a cushion. “You’ve got a few springs poking up.”

“I’m used to it. Do you want to sit there and I’ll get changed?”

Jack sat and took a gulp of beer. “Hey, did you lose my number?”

“Oh no, I still have it.”

“Show me where you wrote it in your little black book.”

I fetched my address book and showed him the scrap of paper he’d given me. “See, it’s right here in front.”

“This could fall out. I’m going to write it in permanent. D’you have a pen?”

Thinking this was a good sign, I handed him one. “I’m going to get my dress on. I’ll just be a minute.” I went into my cramped bathroom, quickly stripped, and stepped into the beaded sheath. I caught a glimpse in the mirror; my cheeks flushed with excitement, my eyes a deeper blue than usual, the pale curve of my breasts rising and falling above the shimmering dark fabric. My hands were trembling so much, I had trouble doing up the zipper. As I struggled with it, Jack called out, “Who’s George?”

So now he was poking around in my addresses. “Friend of mine. Really great guy. Gay.”

“Hmm.” I heard pages rapidly riffling. “Ted?”

“Friend from college.” Quickly I slipped on my heels.

“Jane?”

Laughing, I walked out of the bathroom. “Friend from publishing. You really are kind of nosy, you know.”

“You’re only just now finding that out?” Jack mused, turning another page. He looked up at me and rose from the sofa with an odd expression on his face.

Oh no, maybe the dress is all wrong
. “Is this okay?” I asked.

“Verrry okay,” he replied after a moment’s pause. “Better than okay.” He went to get his jacket and gazed out the window as he put it on. “Nice view.” For a minute he stared at the sooty rooftop across the street, then turned and held out the notebook. “Here, I’ve put my number in ink. Non-erasable.”

I laid it on the table. “All right, I guess we’re all set. Can you keep my key? My backpack doesn’t quite go with the dress.”

“Sure, I’ll hold onto your key. Anytime.”

I followed him downstairs, my knees practically knocking.
I’m going to a party with Jack Kipling of the Floor. I hope he can’t tell how jumpy I am—but he must be used to girls going into shock
.

Rick opened the back door of the car. Jack turned, dark eyes sparking, and gestured me in with a flourish.

“Come into my lair,” he said, his accent heavy on “lair.” “Enter at your own risk.” He smiled, and I shivered as I slid across the leather seat.

Jack climbed in beside me and we took off. I was conscious of my bare legs in the short dress, right next to his rangy limbs in the black pants.
Maybe I should have worn hose
. I gave my hem a tug, then realized I’d just exposed a good inch of cleavage. Hastily I yanked up the neckline. I glanced at Jack, who seemed to quickly erase a grin.

He crossed his arms, his shoulder touching mine. “So what did you do last night, more editing?”

“I went to a movie with my friend Erin. This is a big weekend for me; I don’t always go out two nights in a row.”

Jack gave me an appraising look. “You live kind of a quiet life for someone your age. You’re what, twenty-three?”

I wondered how old he was; I assumed in his early thirties. “Twenty-four. Not that quiet really. Maybe compared to you.”

“My life isn’t that thrilling these days. I’ve had to mend my ways a bit in recent years; too much burning the wick at both ends. I had a couple of close calls a while back. But when I was twenty-four …” He shook his head. “Everything came on so fast, I kind of insulated myself with various chemicals for a while. You seem so well-behaved, though. What do you do to cut loose?”

“Dancing, I guess. Sorry I don’t have anything more scintillating to offer.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t put it that way.” He gave my dress-front a quick glance. “You know what, a necklace would go nice with that. Here,” he said, reaching for the thin chain with the lightning bolt. He pulled it over his head. “Put this on.”

“Oh, no, I might lose it.”

But Jack put the chain over my head and then reached around to lift my hair in back. His warm hand brushed the nape of my neck. A wave of heat spread from my chest up to my collarbone.

“There. You won’t lose it. It looks good on you.” His face was so close to mine, I could see two silky eyelashes twisted together. I was suddenly aware that my lips had parted. Clamping them shut, I swallowed hard.

Rick stopped the car in front of a brick townhouse. “Here we are.”

Jack reached over me to open the door. “After you.”

“I never asked whose birthday it is,” I said as we went inside. Music was booming from an upper floor.

“Patrick’s. We’ll just make an appearance; we don’t have to stay long.”

Oh my god, it’s
Patrick’s
party? Maybe I can just blend into the wallpaper
.

I followed Jack up the stairs to a spacious loft packed with people, stereo blasting. Immediately he was surrounded by a group of men and women who seemed ready to pounce on him. He shouted at them over the noise for a minute, and then looked around for me. “What would you like? There’s champagne if you want.”

I nodded and Jack snagged a couple of flutes from a passing waiter. “Cheers,” he said as we touched glasses. I could feel people’s eyes on me from all over the room, checking out the new girl Jack had brought with him. It was a weird sensation, like one of those dreams where you’re undressed in public. A man in a suit came over, put his arm around Jack’s neck and murmured something. “I have to speak to these record company flacks for a minute,” Jack said.

He left with the guy, and I decided to find a quiet corner to observe the scenery. I wove through a dancing group of willowy girls who had to be models. The tallest ones seemed to be with short, balding men. I parked myself by a window with a view of the winking downtown skyline.
No one is noticing me now
, I thought with relief.
I can just hang out here and take it all in
.

Two of the model types stopped in front of me.

“You came with Jack, didn’t you?” the first one said in an unfriendly tone.

“Yes. I’m Julia.” I smiled, but she didn’t.

“I see you’re wearing his necklace. He never takes that off. Remember when it broke in the pool and Nicole had to spend a half-hour diving for it?” she asked her friend. They laughed at their little in-joke.

“Sounds like I should take a crash scuba course,” I said uneasily.

“Good luck to you,” she said, implying I’d need it. They glared at me and continued toward the bar.

Well, that was unpleasant. Hopefully Jack will come find me soon, so I can avoid more confrontations with his bitchy ex-girlfriends
. I squeezed past an animated group sitting at a table crosshatched with lines of cocaine, and went to admire an unframed Warhol.

Hearing a British accent, I turned to see Patrick standing nearby. My first impression was that he was a miniature version of himself; he was only about my height, with boyishly narrow hips. His fashionably feathered blond hair and turquoise shirt brought out his blue-green eyes. He and the guy next to him seemed to be scrutinizing me. Patrick gestured with his cigarette and commented, “Jack’s new piece.” His lips pressed into his signature pout. “He abandon you already?”

I decided to ignore that. “Happy birthday. I’m Julia.”

Patrick didn’t hold out his hand, so I didn’t extend mine. “It’s not my birthday yet, but they wanted to throw me a party ‘coz I’ll be out of the country.” He looked around the room, seeming bored.

“Happy party, then.”

Patrick took a long pull on his cigarette. “I hear you’re a secretary somewhere.” He opened his eyes wide. “And you’re a big reader, or something,” he added, blowing smoke toward me.

“Yes, I like to read.”

“Oh really. What kinds of things?” he asked, scanning the room.

“All kinds.”

“Like what?” he prodded.

I couldn’t imagine why he wanted to know. I threw out “Proust,” although I felt like saying “the Sunday comics”.