Fade to Red (2 page)

He showed Beckham the metal pieces he’d been squeezing in each hand. The ball went bouncing out of one hand and Beckham leaned down and caught it on its bounce up.

“Sure. I haven’t played with jacks since I was little—I never see kids play it anymore.”

“I do. All the time. Mom says I have a ’diction.” He caught the ball Beckham bounced his way.

“Hmm, well an addiction to jacks wouldn’t be the worst thing, I don’t suppose. So, I’m Beckham, and who are you?”

“I’m George.”

“Really? George? Like Curious George?”

He laughed. “No, I’m Harry.”

“Harry. Oh, okay. So which is it? George or Harry?”

“I’m Mavid!”

“Mavid? Is that even a name?”

“Nooooo, you’re crazy. Mavid’s not a name.”

“You’re starting to look like a Mavid, actually. I can see it now.”

That wiped the grin off his face. “I do not. Take that back.”

Beckham held both hands up. “Whoa, dude. Just playing the game here.”

The little boy laughed. “Just kiddin’. Whoa, dude, loosen up.” He looked at Beckham then and stood up. “And you can call me Leo.”

Leo, or whatever his name really was, looked so stinkin’ cute, Beckham couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He could hang with this guy a few more minutes before getting some air. In fact, maybe he’d just skip going out.

“You got any whiskey sours?”

Hearing that come out of his mouth, especially with the lisp of all lisps, was too much. Beckham’s laugh echoed through the corridor.

“Where have you heard about whiskey sours?”

“I heard my mom saying that’s her favorite drink. Joey says it’s a girly drink. Mom also likes marragritas sometimes.”

“Marragritas … oh yeah, I like those too.”

“You know my mom?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, she knows
you
.” He mimed the words of Beckham’s song that was still coming from the auditorium and knew every word. “My mom listens to you all the time.”

“Ahh, that’s nice of her. Maybe I can meet your parents. Where are they, anyway?”

They were just coming to the side doors of the auditorium. “Getting work done. I’m supposed to stay right here and not move an inch. I went and came right back though.” He said it like Beckham might tell on him.

“Hey, I think they’d understand you getting a drink. No worries.”

The door opened and a cute blonde came out. She gave a startled look to Beckham and then to Leo, and back to Beckham.

“Sorry I was gone that long, Leo.” She shuffled nervously behind Leo.

Beckham smiled, trying to make her more comfortable. She didn’t crack a smile; in fact, her eyes just grew larger as she stared at him. The kid’s mom seemed a little uptight. Not exactly what he was expecting with such a cool kid.

“It’s okay,” Leo lifted his thumb toward Beckham, “he kept me company.”

Just then Jodi, one of Anthony’s assistants, stuck her head out and said, “Beck—Anthony’s wondering if you can take a look at a small group he’s put together, since you’re still here…” She smiled, knowing he was trying to escape.

“Ohhhkay,” he dragged it out, “I guess I can do that.” He looked back at Leo and the girl. “You’re welcome to come into the auditorium...”

“Oh, that’s okay. We’re good here,” she responded quickly.

Leo shrugged and with a smile he walked to Beckham and held out his hand. Beckham gave him a firm handshake. “Thanks for playin’.”

“Well, thank you, Mavid … I mean, Leo.” This got a laugh out of the little boy. “It sure was great to meet you.” Beckham walked to the doors and gave Leo another wave before going inside.
What a fun kid
, he thought.
Manners, too.

When he entered the auditorium, the tension in the air was thick. The room had cleared out, with nine still on the stage.

Anthony motioned him over. “I think I’m ready to call it but wanted to see if you agree with the three that I want to cut.”

“K, man. Let’s do it.”

Anthony turned on the music and for the first song, they all did the routine Anthony had shown them. On the second song, they each had about twenty seconds to freestyle.

Anthony and Beckham talked it out and were in agreement with every dancer. There were three that just didn’t have the same deep groove that the rest did. And six who were so tight, you could feel every pulse of the song. And then, the girl, she was the one all eyes would gravitate toward. She just had
it
.

“I’m thinking that girl for the solos, mirroring you,” Anthony said. He turned on a slower song and yelled, “Roxie Taylor, show me what you can do on this one.”

Beckham nodded, unable to take his eyes off her.

Sensuality oozed out of her when she moved. More than being sexy, it was the emotion she provoked with her movements. She
became
every word of the song. It was impossible to not be mesmerized watching her. Graceful, but funky. Fluid and strong, even in the more intense moments of the song.

Beckham forced his mouth closed when the song ended. Roxie stood up straight then, and for the first time, looked self-conscious.

“Excellent! Okay, everyone, I think we’ve seen what we need to see. We’ll discuss things and get back to you within a few days. If you don’t hear from us, thanks for trying out … maybe we’ll see you again in the future.”

Beckham cringed. This was why he didn’t like to be here for this part. He didn’t want to feel bad for the ones who were let go.

“Just a reminder, for those of you who are selected—we will begin two months of rehearsals in L.A. in a month from now. We expect you to be ready to work hard. No distractions. Also—make sure you’re able to survive being on a crowded tour bus with people you don’t know … for long, exhausting months at a time. You think you want this now, but imagine if you don’t like someone, the close space, the exhaustion, the wear and tear on your body. Be sure about this before we call to tell you you’re selected. Otherwise, your future career as a backup dancer is already over.”

“Okay, Anthony, enough,” Beckham muttered.

With a clap and a complete change of tone, Anthony said, “All right, folks! We’ll see some of you in a month!” He turned to Beckham and raised an eyebrow. “What?” he challenged.

“No one will want to do it after that little speech.”

Anthony waved his hand, openly scoffing Beckham. “Please. Everyone dreams of touring with you. And dancers are all about torturing themselves. Trust me, my little speech just made them want this all the more.”

Beckham smirked. “Whatever you say.”

He turned around to leave and saw his manager, Nate, walking toward him. It had to be important for him to show up during tryouts.

They did their usual half-shake, half-hug greeting.

“What’s going on, man? You’ve got my attention, showing up here,” Beckham said.

“I want to throw something by you, an opportunity … something we need to act on quickly.”

Beckham frowned and nodded. “Of course. Lay it on me.”

Nate tilted his head to the side, motioning for Beckham to follow. They walked through the doors and into the back halls of the auditorium. To his disappointment, Leo was long gone. He wished he’d thought to invite his family to the San Diego show. It would be the end of the tour before they were back through, but still, it would have been fun to see the little guy again.

Beckham took the lead when they got toward the green room and offered Nate a bottled water once they stepped inside.

Nate took it and launched right into what was on his mind.

“I think you’ve met Donny Carter before, right? Made his career when he signed J. Eliot. I think he might have wanted to manage your family way back when.”

“Name sounds familiar,” Beckham said.

“Well, he just found out he has cancer and is retiring. It’s bad, really bad.” Nate shook his head. “Such a shame. Anyway, he called to see if I’d take over his client.”

Beckham nodded and waited, confused about what that had to do with him.

“His client is Ian Sterling.” Nate leaned back and smiled a slow grin.

Beckham perked up. Ian Sterling was someone he had long admired. He was a true artist—with the pipes, songwriting, and unparalleled guitar skills to back it up. Beckham had seen him play before Ian became well-known, in a little bar in San Francisco, and it had inspired him during a time when he was pretty numb. Earlier this year Ian had taken the Grammy home for Best Album of the Year, and Beckham thought no one deserved it more.

“Bad news for Ian is that Donny completely botched Ian’s tour. I mean really—he screwed up. I don’t know why he didn’t call sooner, but he’s obviously had a lot on his mind.” Nate lifted his eyebrows and let out a deep breath. “He feels awful about it. Ian has been top-notch about the whole thing, but bottom line is, the guy is now free for the next year, when he was supposed to have a huge tour of his own all lined up.”

Beckham and Nate stared at each other, both their minds racing with the possibilities.

“What are we waiting for?” Beckham asked. “Let’s make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

Roxie redid her messy bun and then cursed under her breath when the ponytail holder snapped and left her hair hanging in her face. It reached her waist and was so heavy she usually kept it pulled back when she danced. Already sweating from the audition, she wished for the zillionth time that she’d cut it off at the beginning of summer. Her sister, Chloe, had talked her out of it, saying she looked like a giraffe when her hair was short. Roxie had subtly given her the finger, since the one time she’d ever had her hair short, she’d gotten knocked up, and Chloe had teased her mercilessly then too. Also, Leo was in the room at the time and nothing got past him. She’d made the mistake of saying
shit
in front of him weeks before and he was still giving her grief over that one. The last thing she needed was for him to give the bird to everyone at Northridge Baptist Pre-K, not to mention getting all curious about his dad. He seemed to be fine, for now, without one. Her brother, Joey, had been amazing with Leo, so had her dad. No need to complicate things with another man.

She dug in her bag for another ponytail holder and just as she rounded the corner, she found one and piled her hair back on top of her head. Ah, it helped immediately. She needed to get out of there before she saw anyone up close and personal.

“Over here, Mom!” Leo was hidden away, sitting exactly where she’d left him. It didn’t look like he’d moved an inch.

“Hey, bud. Thanks for being so patient. Where’s Aunt Chloe?”

“Bathroom,” he pointed at the door next to him, “right in there.”

“You should have gone with her.”

“Gross, Mom.”

“You know I don’t like you being by yourself—you-” She laughed in mid-sentence. “Don’t you give me the stink eye. Come on, let’s get out of here. You ready for some ice cream?” She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and helped him put everything in his backpack.

“Can I have three scoops this time?”

“Uh, wow, really? Are you gonna be a hyper mess if I say yes?”

“No?” He looked at her, unsure of what to say.

Roxie laughed and messed up his hair. “You know what? Yes. I can’t believe how long you waited on me. You deserve at least three scoops.”

Leo’s eyes lit up. “Cotton candy, strawberry, and blueberry cheesecake.”

Roxie crinkled up her nose. “Can your belly survive that?”

“It certainly can.”

“Are you absolutely certain, with all certainty, that it certainly can?”

Leo raised his eyebrows. “I’m certain,” he said.

Chloe walked out of the restroom and her eyes widened when she saw Roxie. “I didn’t leave him long, just a few minutes. I told him to yell or bite if anyone came near him.”

Roxie rolled her eyes. “He should have gone in there with you. Someone could have snatched him up. Look how cute he is.”

It was Chloe’s turn to groan at Roxie. She was a little over the top sometimes. “Come on, Rox, there are guards at every door. No one would be able to take him.”

As they pushed the theater doors, an unseasonably hot wind attacked them. They walked to the car and Roxie started it before Leo and Chloe got in, cranking the air conditioner to full blast. The ice cream shop was just around the corner and when they walked in, Leo started humming. The kid lived for ice cream.

When they had their heaping cones, they sat down and started eating it as fast as they could before it melted.

“Did you see him?” Chloe whispered to Roxie when Leo got up to throw away his napkin.

“No, I made it a point to not look for him, actually,” Roxie whispered back. “I didn’t want to screw up my audition, you know?”

Chloe nodded. Her eyes searched Roxie’s, but she didn’t say anything for a long time. When they were on their way back out the door to head home, she spoke again.

“What are you gonna do if they call, Roxie?”

Roxie sighed. It was a waste of time to even think about that. They wouldn’t be calling, and if by some crazy stroke of luck they did, she hadn’t figured out yet how she could actually do it.

“I’m not gonna get the job, Chloe.” She shook her head. “You know I have the worst luck ever…” her voice trailed off quietly.