Tracy

019:

Tracy felt awash in nostalgia.

Ah-- Bridget's mom had been so into the ReedTones. She had all their albums, and let the girls play them all night when they had sleepovers. Tracy envisioned them in Bridget's room, the walls painted a fashionable light blue, with ReedTones posters on the walls, and Led Zeppelin, Billy Joel, Peter Frampton and Rod Stewart. Not a spare wall space to be had, even the ceiling sported a few. Her bedspread was bright, like patchwork quilts with fringe, straight out of the 60's. They'd learned to play guitar there, on the floor, with the younger siblings coming in and out all the time. They'd written their first songs, cute floral little ditties.

"So, what brings that tender, sweet smile to your face, Miss McCaffrey?" His voice startled her out of her reverie, and as her eyes fastened on the spirited face before her, she honestly thought she was hallucinating.

She blinked in complete disbelief, sure her eyes had betrayed her. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited."

"You don't belong here! This is for musicians." She blurted rudely and then clapped a hand over her mouth in consternation. This man did bring out the worst in her.

He threw back his head and laughed, albeit quietly. His eyes darkened at her in amusement. "How do you know I'm not one?"

She was shaking her head slowly, blowing out her breath. "You're not. I'd know if---."

"Seriously? You didn't even take five minutes to get to know me."

Tracy remembered in full detail the five minutes she had spent with Richard Mann and blushed. There was something winning about him even though she'd slapped him for rudeness not that long ago.

"Let's not remedy that, okay?" She stared hard at Julian and Bridget on the dance floor, looking for all the world like lovers.

He chuckled, pulling up a chair. "Come on, let's just start over, shall we? You want to dance?"

Her brows rose in obvious distaste and he grinned again, laying an arm along the back of her seat, stroking her bare skin as if he couldn't help it. Tracy moved herself out of his reach without too much trouble.

"Richard, I don't want to dance with you, I don't want to hang out with you, and I definitely don't want to get to know you better."

He leaned in even closer. "What? Because of a few odd remarks in a really awkward situation? Because you slapped me for being presumptuous? You're not being very accommodating."

"It's not my job to be accommodating." She snapped, declining a tray of champagne with a flick of her fingers. Richard carefully lifted a fluted glass and sipped appreciatively before setting the glass on the lace tablecloth.

"You have a caustic tongue, girl. What did you think of our proposal? You've had some time to think about it."

"You're not a musician." She blurted again, her annoyance ignoring his further comments.

"I've played in concert with Skip Jennings. I've sat in on recordings with my good friend Jason Goodwin, and I'm up for just about anything, but you're right, I'm primarily an actor, and I am getting ready to produce my first project with your buddy Austin McQueen." His eyes were tight on hers, not allowing her to avoid them. Tracy blew out her breath awkwardly.

His smile caught her gaze. She wanted to look away but he moved his head to stay in her line of sight. She tried to turn, but he maintained eye contact with that funny talent he had for doing it.

"How has the week been? You took the kid home with you to college? How are you going to manage it all? You called your engagement off?" His voice was low, as if they knew each other, very familiar, like friends.

"We're not friends, Mr. Mann."

He slapped his palm to his forehead. "I'm doing my damndest to change that status, Miss McCaffrey. Give me a break here!"

"The week?" She bit her lip. "Has been hard. I have finals. I have Danny. It's nearly impossible. I haven't slept. I don't know how I'm going to manage. But I am, make no mistake, I will manage, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it." She patted his leg resting so close to hers, now, deliberately pressing into her knee. The song ended and another one started.

He nodded slowly, taking her in, his eyes carrying that sincere compassion he elicited. "And the engagement? Where is the prick?"

She snorted at his callous word choice. "Probation won't allow him to leave the state right now."

"Ah." Richard sat back in commiserate recognition. Then he leaned forward and took her hand. "Tracy McCaffrey, dance with me." He pulled her up so she had no choice but to accept, as he gently, but firmly urged her onto the dance floor.

His hands twirled her expertly, and she knew he had had plenty of training, perhaps even childhood training. He was that good. This wasn't any high school dance, this was a very accomplished handsome man escorting her through real steps, and she had no choice but to follow. He guided, she matched him. His hand on her back burned-- but also focused the burning she'd been feeling building in her head and neck and channeled it. As weird as that sounded, it was as if her headache responded to his touch.

He guided her around the floor, smiled at photographers, her father, her friends, his friends. His arm stayed carefully against her upper back, supporting her hand on his shoulder. As far as she was concerned the chandelier was sparkling diamonds just for her and for the first time in her life, it wasn't a dance to promote an image. It wasn't some sleazy drugged out drummer. Casey wasn't standing there nodding approval behind her back somewhere having arranged for her to be seen with one of his cronies.

He pressed her a little closer, his chest brushing hers. His fingers grazed the strands of hair that were straggling around her face from her artful style. The dangly earrings she'd added glittered against his tuxedo lapels. He swirled her like Cinderella in a Disney cartoon. Tracy reveled for the first time in her life, looking back over her shoulder she let her head fall back as he twirled her.

Somehow she realized others had stepped to the sides making room for her to swirl, like a little girl whose dress belled as she circled. She lost herself--loving that he made her. It had been so long-- so damn long since she'd felt free! His hand was strong, firm, his legs steadied her and took the decision making out of her thoughts. It was light and--bewildering, and lovely.

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