Kassidy's Crescendo Page 2
The fire of the Irish could be heard in Maeve’s voice. That vindicated a wounded heart and made Kassidy smile. “I’m already there.” Kassidy flipped her hair aside. Long and thick, a dark shade of brown, it now reeked of pot smoke. Her clothes, too. First order of business, a shower and a quick load of laundry. She expelled a hard breath. “I’m so sorry about this—I didn’t mean to pull you and Josh away from the dance when you probably wanted to celebrate. He had another amazing game.”
Red hair shone when Maeve shook her head. “KC, nothing is more important than friends.”
That choked her up. “I can’t believe how stupid I was. How blind. I always get mixed up when it comes to my heart and who to love versus who not to love.”
“How so?”
Kassidy flung her hands in a frustrated gesture. “Oh, this whole situation is a classic example. Aaron is so great looking, and popular, and he was attracted to me. Now, I feel like I fell into a trap.” That fact, more than anything else, wreaked havoc on the part of Kassidy’s soul that craved affirmation and affection. Her stomach still rolled. “Thanks so much for the rescue operation, Maeve, and thank Josh, too.”
Maeve cast a tender glance toward Josh’s car where he waited and fiddled with his cellphone.
Kassidy followed the direction of Maeve’s gaze. “Hang on to him. He’s a good guy who hasn’t let popularity and success go to straight to his ego. He doesn’t compromise, and neither do you.”
Maeve took hold of Kassidy’s arm. “Sweetie, you didn’t either. You did a wonderful job of following your conscience. Aaron’s loss, not yours.”
Kassidy dragged in a shaky breath, not willing to let herself off the hook just yet. “Whatever. I only know this: never again will I fall for the kind of guy who wins my attention with a sexy smile, a charming personality, and a handsome face. I need Mr. Strength of Character more than I need Mr. Gorgeous. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Maeve’s glance drifted to the car once again; the love in her friend’s eyes made Kassidy believe that good guys, good days, and happy endings were possible at some point down the road. That wasn’t a bad way to end the night.
“You’ll be OK,” Maeve continued. “You’ll hold on to your convictions, and you’ll end up winning the heart of a wonderful guy. Believe that, KC. Believe it to your core, and never—ever—compromise yourself.”
With a soft, tearful exclamation, Kassidy launched into her friend’s arms and hugged her tighter than tight. “Aww, Maeve, you’re the best.” Her throat clogged all over again. “Love you.”
“Love ya right back. Now, get to bed, and forget about everything else. In the morning, let’s rally the girls. We’ll have lunch at the mall and do some shopping. That’s what Saturdays are for, right?”
“You better believe it.” Kassidy hugged Maeve once more, feeling one hundred percent better and thoroughly determined to live out the decision she had made. No man—no matter how strongly she was attracted—would make her surrender her beliefs.
Ever.
1
Present Day
Sweat rolled down the center of Kassidy Cartwright’s back, trickled against her neck. Working hard, yet concentrating on making her motions appear effortless and smooth, she spun then took two measured steps to the left, crossing in front of Aileen Brewer, then behind Maeve Callahan as they worked their way through a morning exercise and dance session. The dancer of their troupe, Siobhan Douglas, swept majestically to the fore, executing a flawless adagio combination.
Though expansive, the dance studio was warm and humid. That didn’t add any amperage to Kassidy’s energy level, especially since a demanding cardio workout had recently concluded. Following a break, chief choreographer Elizabeth Portier now ran the quartet through elements of the stage show Sisters in Spirit would perform later tonight at the Hastings Theater in Danbury, Connecticut.
Siobhan launched into an elegant leap, lifted to one foot then spun and arched her back in time to the music as they continued to finesse a few of the more complex dance sections from their upcoming show.
“Project, ladies! Don’t just swish and swoosh! Engage your audience!” Elizabeth prowled the floorboards, scrutinizing each of them, her face patterned by a scowl. “We know you can sing and dance, but you need to look outward, and you must maintain synchronicity. It’s part of what draws the eye of the audience. Focus! The flow of motion must always remain cohesive—always instinctive in appearance!”
Kassidy bit back a seething hiss in response to those sharp observations and comments, eyeing Aileen to the right, Maeve to the left. “I’m enduring this kind of punishment at roughly six thirty in the morning on a Friday because why?” The muttered question met with stifled snickers from her friends. “Would it be wrong for me to trip her? I promise I wouldn’t hurt her too badly.”
Aileen kept moving, light brown hair flowing against her back and shoulders like silk; urgently she nudged Kassidy to continue rehearsing and spare them all a further display of Elizabeth’s wrath. Yeah, Kassidy thought. Like that was even a remote possibility.
“Elizabeth is a tyrant—a cruel vixen of torture, but Liam tells me she’s also the best in the business.”
Following Aileen’s sotto voce declaration, Siobhan twirled past, murmuring, “Darlings, trust me, compared to my teachers at the New York Dance Academy, she’s a cake-walk.”
“No, no, no!” With a sharp, jarring hand clap, Elizabeth brought the practice session to a halt then punched the mute button on the portable stereo. “Your foot movements aren’t syncopated. Try again. Face the mirror and repeat the last sequence, following my lead. I want you to glide—glide like angels!”
Over the next quarter hour, a floor to ceiling mirror and the barks of a drill-sergeant became Kassidy’s greatest adversaries. Relief—and exhaustion—overcame her at once when Liam Douglas pushed quietly through the doorway, followed close behind by their tour manager, Drew Wintower.
“Liam!” Aileen left decorum behind, charging into his waiting and open arms. Liam was Siobhan’s big brother—and Aileen’s fiancé.
“How’s the love of my life?” He muffled a loving growl against her neck, which made Aileen giggle. Liam lifted her off her feet in a continuing snuggle.
Kassidy nudged Maeve, then Siobhan. “You know, if I didn’t love her so much, I’d be jealous out of my mind.” She cast a menacing glower toward Siobhan. “Although I count you in the same lot as our Ailee now that you and Dr. Wonderful are engaged.”
Siobhan’s response to that tease was a girlish sigh of delight and a happy squiggle.
To Kassidy, it seemed as though her friend’s petite frame couldn’t contain all the happiness she felt. After the horrible year Siobhan had endured, no one deserved it more.
Siobhan lifted her left hand to study the sparkly diamond solitaire recently installed upon its third finger by orthopedic surgeon AJ Cooper. “He is wonderful, isn’t he?”
“That and then some. We owe that man big time for bringing you back to us, Siobhan. Your dance moves are better than ever since your recovery from the car accident.” Maeve’s praise spawned a beatific smile from the spritely blonde. “But with two of you now engaged, that leaves just me and KC on the bachelorette list. Who’ll it be, KC? Who falls next? You or me?”
“Oh, Maeve, get serious. It most certainly won’t be me, so have fun at the altar.”
Siobhan issued a twinkling laugh and tweaked Kassidy’s waist, causing a jump and a startled yelp. “Don’t throw down the gauntlet of challenge in front of God, KC. Remember the old adage? While mankind plans, God laughs.”
Kassidy’s gaze drifted to the spot where Drew Wintower stood—tall and strong of build, with short brown hair, delicious eyes of deepest brown and a magnetic aura that never failed to stir a quickening in Kassidy’s spirit. During the past few months, he had become somewhat of a fixture in the Sisters in Spirit family. As the group’s tour manager, he oversaw the production and promotion of the
ir show as a thirty-city tour gained steam across North America.
A heady influx of attraction caused her heart to spin free.
Then crash.
Sure, Liam had eagerly brought Drew aboard when tour plans came to fruition—and if Siobhan’s brother recognized and believed in something substantial to Drew’s character, that was enough for Kassidy. So much so, that during the past several weeks she’d even allowed herself to flirt with him a little, and thoroughly enjoyed their rapport and the swing of electricity that sparked between them. But another, darker game-changer remained in place that prompted Kassidy to keep her deepest emotions firmly in check. The man left no question that while he respected and admired the Christ-centered tenants that governed Sisters in Spirit, he wasn’t a fellow believer.
Unbidden, a sigh of longing passed the lengths of Kassidy’s aching heart. She forced herself to look away from him—even while part of her longed—and mourned.
****
Drew Wintower extracted his cellphone from the breast pocket of his suit coat. A dip of the head, a glance at e-mail missives, and he was instantly consumed by work-related matters, his focus far from the way Liam Douglas and the girls formed a tight, unbroken circle.
He tapped into a text message from the leader of his technical crew which read: Load in is complete. Stage looks incredible.
Satisfied by that development, Drew tapped a reply. Lighting check? Sound preps?
Done, tho we can’t test wireless mics until the girls use them in rehearsal.
Perfect. Be there after the TV interview. We’re leaving shortly.
Though deliberately removed from the Sisters family, outward appearances didn’t tell the whole story. Not by a long shot. His focus drifted to Kassidy Cartwright and a hammering beat pounded through his blood.
He was keenly aware and most definitely interested. That’s precisely why he hung back. Inclusion within the deepest reaches of this tightknit ensemble wasn’t something he had earned.
Yet.
Still, the fact remained. Sisters in Spirit was about to leave its home base on the Eastern seaboard and take its show into foreign, uncharted territory. That’s where Drew’s contribution would come into focus—and he couldn’t wait. He intended to transform their songs and dance into an elegant form of theater. In so doing, he’d redeem a tarnished reputation that never should have been called into question to begin with.
Forcing himself past that black cloud, he pocketed his phone and straightened his shoulders. He looked forward to soldiering on, wanting manufactured gossip and unfounded accusations to die a swift, much-deserved death.
Refocusing, he came upon the vision of Kassidy Cartwright. Drew watched her, glad she remained unaware of his regard. Musty heat and humidity combined with the subtle aroma of aged wood. He could have sworn the faint scent of cinnamon, orange, and earthy spice, filled the confines of the Renaud Dance House, delivering a lush tweak to his senses. Kassidy’s influence yet again. He had already grown familiar with her scent.
Not good.
Still, while Liam conducted a review of the upcoming tour schedule, Drew dwelled on the exotic beauty with deep green eyes and thick waves of dark brown hair. She bore a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. Even his own.
Again, not good. She presented far too tempting a treasure.
He wanted to call her KC, the nickname used by her closest friends, but that was an earned privilege. For the foreseeable future, their shared world encompassed professional progress and nothing more. That was fine. Why muddy a body of water he was working so hard to make clean? Innocent, pure, and radiant, she represented precisely the type of woman Drew knew he needed to avoid at all costs. He’d been burned before—by beauty, by charm, and by hopeful promise. He had walked the tightrope of mixing business with pleasure. End result? An unexpected, uncalled for bomb-blast leading close to professional ruination.
Never. Ever. Again.
Drew came around when he saw Liam glance at the face of his wristwatch and continue an ongoing conversation. “Ladies, you have just over two hours until your appearance on Tri-State Morning, so feel free to use the facilities here to shower and change. Costume selections have been sent ahead, so that’s taken care of.” He grinned. “By the way? There’ll be a chauffeured limousine parked out front to take you to the station. Hair and makeup will be styled by technicians at the studio.”
Kassidy’s wide-eyed reaction to that piece of news prompted Drew to grin—and added an emphasizing punch to his pulse rate. Maeve, meanwhile, assumed a dramatic air, flipping her wavy mane of red hair. “At times like this, I find it best to just sink into the fantasy and run with it, don’t you, girls?”
As one, the assemblage burst into giggles—except for Elizabeth Portier who sighed with an equal level of drama while she started to pack equipment. “You’d be better served by fantasizing about beautiful motions on stage, Miss Maeve. Keep the audience in the palm of your hand.”
“Yes, ma’am—and thank you for a great session today.” Aileen, always the soft-hearted leader of the group, gave Elizabeth’s arm a squeeze. “We’ll make you proud.”
Elizabeth regarded the girls one-by-one, features split by an expression of puzzlement and surprise. “Of course you will, you’re very gifted.” Her lips curved and sly eyes narrowed. Their choreographer was nearing forty-five but didn’t look a day over thirty. “I’m going to make certain you continue to prove it.”
Chatter and pre-interview nerves escalated while the quartet gathered their duffels and drained water bottles. They moved toward the shower and changing facilities of the dance studio Ganneton Productions had secured for their use just outside of Danbury.
Kassidy linked arms with her friends. In passing she treated Drew to a lingering look, added an extra sway to her stride. Her womanly wiles slid against liquid heat while he watched her without a blink, in an appreciative silence that captured her gaze in turn, and transformed her display of sassy playfulness to surprise—and attraction.
The morph caused Drew’s nerve endings to sizzle with intrigue…and a red-hot danger alert.
2
From his vantage in the wings of Studio B, Drew focused on Kaytlin Somers. The effervescent host of Tri-State Morning angled toward a camera that rolled close then went hot. Styled in a chic peach suit, the bubbly brunette smiled brighter than the overhead lights that doused the living room style studio over which she reigned.
“Welcome back to the second hour of our show, folks, and do we have a treat for you.” Kaytlin shifted and leaned forward. “I want you to meet Aileen Brewer, Siobhan Douglas, Kassidy Cartwright, and Maeve Callahan. Together this quartet forms the Christian music group Sisters in Spirit—an ensemble of song and dance that’s taking the east coast by storm and is set to claim hearts and fans across the rest of North America. Ladies, welcome to the show.”
Drew tracked the video monitor, where a smooth camera pan revealed the girls, two to each side of their host. Kaytlin continued. “Aileen, I’ll start with you since I understand it was you and group manager, Liam Douglas, who brainstormed the idea of Sisters in Spirit and turned what was supposed to be a one-time performance into a fast-building phenomenon. Tell us how the ensemble came to be.”
“I’d be glad to, Kaytlin. You see, the four of us have known one another since high school, and our mutual passion has always been singing and performance. We reunited after graduating from college when we returned to our hometown of Westerville, New York.” She gave a delicate shrug. “At that point, I think we were all trying to get a handle on what would happen next in our lives. That’s when Liam—who is also Siobhan’s brother—told me about a variety show he wanted us to perform in, a fundraiser to support Catholic education. His idea was that we would perform, have a bit of a lark and a reunion, then enjoy the memory of it years later. Simple as that.” Aileen beamed and gestured outward, encompassing her friends. “His idea turned into the journey of a lifetime.”
Drew continued
to study the monitor. Dressed in knee-length dresses of black lace and tulle, the quartet’s hair and makeup was perfect. They presented the quintessential image of chic elegance with one very important component added to the mix: a charming, approachable warmth. Plus, the power of their friendship shined.
“So you weren’t looking for the success, the audience reaction, and momentum that followed?”
The girls exchanged smiles. “No, not at all,” Maeve replied. “In fact, had someone told me a year or so ago that this group, this season of life, is where I’d end up, I would have most likely laughed out loud.”
Kassidy shrugged, graceful and lovely, causing Drew’s heart to skip and thump. “Our group, its success, proves the point that God’s plan and will comes to fruition no matter what our own plots and ideas.”
“What an amazing story.” Kaytlin focused on Maeve and Siobhan. “Your performances are music based, with three of you claiming the stage to sing covers of classic Christian contemporary music. But you, Siobhan, add a special twist—a unique element—in the form of dance. I’m sure our viewers would be amazed by the way you overcame the odds and recovered from a horrible car accident late last year.”
From there, history was exhumed. Drew watched via monitor while Siobhan claimed the camera, sharing the heartbreaking details of an icy spin out that had left her with a broken left leg and badly sprained arm. While Siobhan recounted the details of her recovery, Drew walked the pathway of his own recent past, falling into the memory of a meeting with Cameron Franklin, his boss at Ganneton Productions.
“Drew, I want to make it clear that in spite of what happened or didn’t happen, between you and Roxanne Mitchell when her tour kicked off last year, we believe in you, and have nothing but confidence in your abilities. She asked that you be removed from her tour, and you agreed. No harm, no foul, except for innuendo.”