“A Bailey something?”
“Yep. Hey, good to see you Josiah. Catch you next time.”
He switched off his laptop and grimaced. He so should’ve spoken to Bailey before now. But life was so busy and he was caught in such a whirl that he barely knew what to do. He pressed her number, but she didn’t pick up. Then sent her a message, but it got no reply. And he wondered whether she was okay, or if, like him, busyness was consuming her life, too.
CHAPTER 19
“And now, let’s finish with our hands raised up high, like we’re reaching for the stars.”
Bailey demonstrated, smiling as the little girls obeyed. “Now turn around in a circle, then feet together in first position.” She waited until they were all finished. “Now step to the right,” she showed them, “tuck your left foot behind as you curtsy, then do the other side, as we say Thank You.”
“Thank You,” the little girls chorused.
The studio’s door opened, and her heart tightened, but no, it was only one of the tiny tots’ moms. She kept her smile dialed wide, as the little girls chattered, and she thanked them—and their parents—for their support these past few weeks.
“It must feel weird being back,” one of the dance moms said.
She nodded. “It certainly does.”
It was an even weirder feeling knowing she had a target on her back. The nameless goons out there who sent her pictures of body parts and other tawdry requests were part of the price of fame, so Coco, Hannah, and the nice police detective she’d spoken to had said. But while her phone was now in the hands of the police, and they’d begun a criminal harassment file and asked her to keep a record of all such encounters as more evidence, it didn’t help as she continued to feel the sting of injustice. How could her success be tainted by some stupid people? How could her phone number, which she needed for her business, be held to ransom by such cruelty? She prayed the police would find them soon.
She listened as various parents offered their opinions on her dances, and her costumes, and most often, Luc, and just what a hunk of spunk he’d turned out to be. She nodded politely, deflecting some of the more personal questions as she wondered whether they’d be here when he finally appeared. The nine o’clock Wednesday class had been at maximum capacity today. No guesses why.
She glanced at Poppy, who seemed to understand the need to intervene, allowing Bailey to excuse herself to quickly change from her ballerina costume. It was off with the pink tights and leotard and a pale pink sheer skirt, something the little girls all liked her to wear, to something more appropriate for the interview with Stella from the Post.
She really hoped she could see Luc before Stella arrived, as there was so much to say. It was crazy after spending so much time together in recent weeks that she physically ached to see him. And while she understood he was busy, she still thought he’d want to know some of what had been hitting the fan in her world.
The last of the tiny tots disappeared, and she returned to see Stella had arrived and was speaking to Poppy. There was still no sign of Luc.
Okay, then. Time to adult up and push past her fragile emotions. “Hi Stella. I’m Bailey.”
“Bailey, so nice to meet you.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and Bailey gestured her to the seats on the side where the Dance Off crew had sat just a few weeks ago. How bizarre to think so much had happened in such a short time.
“So, Bailey, how are you feeling after all that’s happened? Your head must be spinning.”
“There’s definitely been a lot to take in,” she admitted.
“And while I’ve got you, before Luc arrives, anything you care to share, woman to woman, about him?”
“Um, not really. He’s a hard worker, and I know he surprised himself with how good he got in just a few weeks.”
“He obviously had a very good teacher,” Stella said.
“Obviously.” She half-smiled, so Stella knew she wasn’t taking herself too seriously.
“And now you’re going out with him, so everyone is saying.”
“Are they?”
“That’s definitely what that kiss suggested on Sunday night’s finale. And all the pictures that have been posted of you two holding hands or hugging. Are you suggesting otherwise?”
She’d be suggesting they reschedule this interview—or postpone it indefinitely—if Stella didn’t change topics soon. But she couldn’t afford to tick off the local media. She wished Luc would hurry up. Lord, what do I say?
The words appeared. “I think I’d rather save that topic for when Luc is here.” She smiled, willing the woman to accept it.
Stella’s forehead creased, then smoothed as she nodded. “I’m sure there is a lot you’re working through.”
Bailey nodded, pressing her lips together, as she studied her leopard dance shoes. They were new, a gift from a local dance supplier, and a little more “extra” than her usual dance attire. But she liked how they made her feel more assertive, and after last night’s confidence-stealing situation at the Police Service, she wanted every bit of assurance boost she could get. If only Luc was here.
“So, I don’t know why Luc is late,” Stella said, “but I suppose we can get started. How about we start with an easy one. Can you tell me about how you first got into dance?”
“Sure.”
Bailey shared about her mother’s passion for dancing, her childhood learning the usual ballet, tap and jazz before ballroom stole her attention as a preteen. Then it had been a battle between ballet and ballroom, before a ballet scholarship had won out, which had later seen her travel and dance in France, Germany, and England.
“And what brought you back?” Stella asked.
“I had some health challenges, and it soon became clear it was time to return,” her heart panged, “and my family were glad to have me back.” So glad. She still remembered her parents clinging to her at a time of great grief.
Stella shook her head. “I find it interesting that you could train for so many years only to give it up.”
Bailey shrugged. “Sometimes these things are out of your control.” Like illness because a man she liked called her heavy. Or dancing masters who refused to give her lead roles. Or family pain that tugged her home. “Anyway, when I was back here, I realized how much I wanted to pass on my love of dance, so I opened the studio four years ago with my good friend Poppy James.” She smiled at Poppy, who waved.
Stella nodded to Poppy. “And I understand that you’re the youngest sister of Franklin James?”
