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  “You think this is gonna work?” she asked Chloe.

  Chloe smiled at her. “I love our little place!” she said, excitedly. “I think it will be perfect for us. Don’t you?”

  “I just want you to be sure you’re up for this. You’re taking on a lot. You know that, right?” She put her arm around Chloe and leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder.

  “I know. I’m not gonna back out now. This is important. You need this, Roxie. I’m so happy you’re going for it! And you’re helping me too. I really needed this push to get away from Alex.”

  Chloe’s eyes filled with tears and Roxie squeezed her tighter.

  “I’m proud of my sister. He never deserved you.” She pulled her head up and looked in Chloe’s eyes. “Thank you for making this happen. I couldn’t do it without you, Chlo-bo.” Roxie sniffed and pulled away before the tears started falling. “Just promise you’ll tell me if it ever becomes too much.”

  “You don’t need to worry. I love that boy in there and am so excited that we’re gonna spend so much time together. I need this as much as you do.” Chloe wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “And,” her voice brightened, “we’ll finally have some money, instead of barely scraping by all the time. You’ll get all kinds of exposure, dancing for Beckham Woods. This is what you’ve always wanted! Be excited about it!” Chloe, the eternal optimist, could cheerlead a cadaver into a frenzy.

  Roxie hugged her tight and resisted all the what ifs that were parading around in her head. For all of Chloe’s optimism, Roxie had always made sure to cover the logical, or even worst-case scenario train of thought … someone had to do it. She guessed it was from being the oldest of three kids. Chloe was four years younger than Roxie. She was the baby, most popular of everything, homecoming queen. Joey was between the girls and the boy her parents had always wanted. They thought he could do no wrong. He was actually pretty great, too, given how spoiled he’d been. Roxie was only good at one thing: dancing. Until her pregnancy topsy-turvied her world and she’d had to make the decision to be a good mother, too.

  She had to force herself go to bed. Well, Chloe actually did, reminding her that she’d wreck her first day at work if she was too tired. Surprisingly, she slept and woke up almost looking forward to the day. Almost, with a large side of terror.

  Instead of the typical dance studio, rehearsals were held in a large warehouse that had been gutted and fit to the tour’s specifications. There were portable stages that had been made for the tour and then a separate room for warm-ups. The details had all been emailed the week before, and Roxie was shocked that it looked even better than she’d expected. The only other person in the room was one of the other dancers. He walked over and held his hand out.

  “Justin Rodriquez,” he said. “Haven’t seen you on the circuit before.”

  “I’m new,” she said, shaking his hand. “Roxie.”

  He checked her out. Straight, Roxie filed away. She tugged on her long T-shirt and thought about putting her sweatshirt back on, but someone else came in, distracting them both with her high-pitched squeal.

  “Hi!” She went straight for Roxie. “I’m Vanessa! So excited you’re here! I knew you’d make it!” A walking exclamation point. When she reached Roxie, she hugged her. “Remember me?”

  Roxie nodded and grinned. Vanessa had been very helpful the day of auditions. She’d been on tour with Beckham before and loved sharing all the information with anyone who would listen. She was so nice, though, it was hard to not like her.

  “Roxie, right?” she asked as she pulled away.

  Roxie cleared her throat. “Yeah,” she croaked out. “Good to see you.”

  “And can you believe Ian Sterling will be on this tour too? How cool is that? I couldn’t believe it when I heard!” Vanessa kept going.

  “Yeah! So cool,” Roxie added weakly. She couldn’t believe it about Ian Sterling either—when they’d heard the news, she and Chloe had danced around the house for a solid fifteen minutes. She just wasn’t very good with meeting new people.

  “Justin…” Vanessa said in a voice a hundred times cooler than the one she’d used with Roxie.

  Justin leaned over to hug her and where her hug for Roxie had been bear-like, she stood limp as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Oh come on, Nessa, don’t be like that,” he crooned.

  Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Let go of me, Justin.”

  Ew, ouch. Icicles dripped off her words now. Roxie decided she really liked this girl.

  They could hear commotion outside the room. Roxie recognized Anthony’s voice. He came in with the other three dancers.

  “Oh lookie, we have everybody,” he said with a clap. “Does everyone know everyone?” He quickly introduced Brooke, Brad and Shelton and greeted Roxie, Justin and Vanessa. “Okay! Everyone ready?” He walked over to the stereo and turned it on.

  Beckham was nowhere in sight and Roxie was so relieved she felt a rush of adrenalin.

  “I’m not gonna waste time talking about what we’re gonna be doing over the next couple of months. It will be too overwhelming if I do. I’ll only say that I’m gonna work your asses off and you better deliver.” He raised an eyebrow and looked each one of them in the eye. “Line up, we’ll start with a couple warm-ups and then get to work.”

  For the next three hours they moved without stopping. Anthony yelled a lot, but the guy was such a good dancer that everyone wanted to work hard to please him. They hadn’t done a full routine yet, just some exercises and dances that helped them learn to move together as a group.

  When they broke for lunch, Roxie called to check on Leo. She’d planned on going to see him for lunch, but it had been catered in, and she thought it would look rude for her to bail on the first day.

  “Whatcha doin’?” she asked when he said hello.

  “Auntie and I are at the park!” he yelled.

  Roxie held the phone away from her ear and grinned. “Oh good! Well, have so much fun! I’ll see you tonight at dinnertime, okay?”

  “Love you, Mom!” He hung up before she could say it back.

  She found everyone at a big round table, piled her plate and sat between Brooke and Brad.

  “Eat much?” Brad said when he saw her plate.

  She shrugged. “I burn it fast. Starve much?” She stared at his plate.

  “It’s hard work to look this good,” Brad said, lifting his shirt and doing a stomach roll.

  Roxie smirked. “Define good.”

  Justin laughed. “Oh! Zing!”

  Brad looked wounded for a minute and then started laughing too. “I know I shouldn’t, but I like you.” He moaned. “I always like the mean ones.”

  Everyone laughed, including Roxie. She leaned her shoulder into his. “Maybe we can have Anthony work it in the program.” She lifted her shirt and rolled her stomach so fast, they all yelled.

  That’s when Beckham decided to show up.

  Beckham couldn’t take his eyes off of Roxie. Her bare stomach rippled as she did things superior to any belly dancer. Brad was trying to keep up with her, but Beckham barely saw him. His eyes landed on her chiseled stomach and couldn’t budge. And her laugh. God. She made his chest and stomach clench, along with other body parts.

  He walked over to the table and laughed along with everyone else. When they noticed him standing there, it went silent, fast. Shit. It was enough to get a complex. He put on a cocky smile and nodded at Roxie.

  “Do that wearing a bikini, and you’re hired!” he said with a laugh.

  Fuck! Why the hell did that come out of his mouth? His first time speaking to her and he acted like a creeper? Everyone laughed. Except Roxie. She went completely still and her red cupid’s bow lips tightened into a scowl. She pulled down her shirt and pushed back from the table. The other dancers were too busy staring at Beckham to even notice Roxie walking out of the room.

  “Excuse me,” he said to the table and got out of there.

  He looked both ways and saw he
r at the end of the hall to the right, either headed for the restroom or the practice room.

  “Roxie! Wait up!”

  She turned around and looked tempted to keep walking.

  He jogged up to her and put a hand on her arm. She quickly pulled away. For a moment, he couldn’t even think straight. Wow, she was hostile.

  “I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It just … was stupid.” He paused, not sure what else to say, since she wasn’t saying anything. “Roxie, right?”

  She looked everywhere but in his eyes. He blinked and inched closer, thinking he saw tears in her eyes. Shit—had he really upset her that much?

  “Look, please. Forgive me. What can I do to make it up to you?” he asked when she still wasn’t speaking. “Dinner?”

  She snorted. “That’s how you fix everything, isn’t it? You think you can say anything and everyone just bends. ‘Oh Beckham Woods, you’re so hilarious! Everything you say and do is so fabulous! Let me just bask in your presence!’ Uh, no, thank you very much to dinner.” She slapped her hand over her mouth and stared at him.

  The seconds pulsed in the air like bullets hitting their target. She turned suddenly and practically ran away.

  Beckham was so stunned, he didn’t move until Anthony came down the hall with everyone else.

  “You gonna stick around?” Anthony asked as he was passing Beckham.

  Beckham had planned to say something to the group—to welcome them and thank them for committing to the tour—but he was so confused by what had happened with Roxie that he shook his head.

  “I’m gonna head back home. Thanks for being here,” he said to the dancers. “I … well, I’ll see you later in the week. Don’t let Anthony be too hard on ya!” He tried to sound light, but knew he just needed to get out of there before he could screw things up further.

  He sped home in his Jag, winding around the hills faster than he should. He was so angry with himself, but the more he thought about it, the more he resented Roxie’s attitude. What the hell? He hadn’t really done anything that awful. The whole thing was just embarrassing.

  When he got home, he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottled water. He’d rather have a Jameson and Coke right now, but he’d settle for safe. Damn Roxie. She’d already made him want to cave on two of his vices and they’d barely spoken.

  He picked up the phone and called Anthony. He knew his phone was off, but he wanted Anthony to hear the message as soon as he was done with rehearsals.

  “Hey, Anthony. I need to talk to you about Roxie Taylor. I’m thinking Vanessa might be a better fit for the sets with me. I got Roxie all worked up today … and I just don’t see us having much chemistry when it comes down to it.”

  He knew that was a lie. She might not feel it, but even as much as she had humiliated him, he still wanted to wrap his hands all over her body.

  “Anyway … think about it. I’d be more comfortable. Vanessa and I have worked well together before—it wouldn’t be as far of a stretch.”

  He hung up and felt better, but knew he had another call to make. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, honey. How did it go today?”

  “Hey, Ma. I left early. I’ll go back in a couple days. They don’t really need me yet. Anthony’s got it.”

  “Okay, well, do you want to come over for supper tonight?”

  His mom had her southern accent still, and nobody anywhere did good southern food like her. He always felt his accent slide on just a little more when he talked to her.

  “That’s just what I need, Ma. When you want me?”

  “You know you can come over whenever you feel like it,” she said.

  “How ’bout I get a few things done around here and then I’ll be over. Is Sierra there?”

  “Sure is. She’ll be glad to see you. Come on.”

  He hung up with her and felt better yet. Time with his mom and sister always did him good. His dad had passed away a little over five years ago, with no warning. It had shaken their whole world. A seemingly healthy man, he’d had a heart attack in his sleep and died instantly. Nothing would ever be quite the same without his dad. It was part of the reason Beckham was anxious to be done with all the traveling—he knew his mom and sister needed him around more.

  When his dad died, months went by that he barely came out of the stupor. His mom and sister didn’t talk about it much anymore, but when they did, they always bawled. He never wanted to put them through that again, and he hoped one day he could make up for the time they’d lost.

  He planned to talk them into Italy when the time came. It wouldn’t be that hard—they’d gone to Italy a handful of times together and always talked about what it’d be like to live there. The slower pace of life sounded better all the time.

  When he got to the house later that afternoon, he ran up the steps and walked right inside.

  “I’m home. Anybody here?” he hollered.

  “Back here, honey,” his mom called.

  His sister stepped out of the kitchen and came walking toward him. “Hey, stranger. How are ya?”

  “Better now. It’s been a long day,” he admitted.

  “Well, come on. Once Ma found out you were coming, she put together a feast. You’d almost think you were her favorite or something.”

  “No, the daughter always trumps, you know that.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Is that how it works? You better tell Ma that.”

  Sierra was a few years older than him and they’d always been close. She teased him about being the favorite, but she had always been so proud of him. He’d tried every tour to convince her to come sing backup with him, but she wasn’t interested. When they finished their family traveling days, she was done. She didn’t want to see the inside of another tour bus.

  “I need you to get her to stop trying to set me up. I don’t need a hipster musician. That’s all she wants to set me up with? Give me a nerd any day!”

  “Shut up. That’s so offensive!” Beckham jabbed her in the side. “I resemble that!”

  She groaned. “You know you’re a nerd in sheep’s clothing. All this hip rock star vibe thing you got going … I know you’re just a nerd begging to be loved.”

  He gave her another good jab until she slapped his hand and tattled.

  “MA! Beckham is picking on me!” she hollered.

  “Oh, please.” He did it again just to annoy her. “Sierra’s calling me names,” he yelled, laughing and backing away as Sierra tried to pinch him.

  Their mom came out with an apron on, wiping her hands on it. “There you are. Have you two already started? Come on, set the table, B. It’s almost ready.”

  And just like that Beckham felt himself again. Well, almost.

  “Please go on tour with me this year. Please, Sierra. I need you. Please.” He clasped his hands together and got on his knees, following her like that all the way to the kitchen.

  “What is your problem?” she laughed. “I’m too old for tours. I have a good job, thank you.”

  “Don’t you miss singing? It’s in your blood. I know you miss it.”

  “Occasionally, I do … but not enough to get in a bus with all your crazy entourage. That time in Japan cured me. Your fans are cuh-razy. No, thank you.”

  Twice today I’ve been rebuffed with fake politeness, he thought and then shook his head. Roxie wasn’t going to bust his good mood. They started eating and he was still on the topic.

  “Did I mention Ian Sterling is going?”

  “NO, you didn’t tell me!” Her eyes were huge. “You should have opened with that.”

  “Oh, even I knew that, honey. It’s been all over the place, for the last month.” Their mom lowered her head, but her eyes were still on Sierra. “You should turn on your TV once in a while.”

  “Ian Sterling.” Sierra breathed his name.

  Beckham snorted. “No hip musician for you, my ass.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s different.”

 
“Um, yeah,” he said sarcastically. “Actually, you’re right, he is. I like him a lot. So come on. You’ll like his wife too. And you’d learn the material like that.” Beckham snapped his fingers. “I’ve got great singers, but it wouldn’t be like it is with you…”

  The thought of having her with him made everything seem so much better.

  “I’m gonna tell you two something and don’t you dare breathe a word of it to anyone. Not even yourself,” Beckham whispered.

  “Oh gawd, you’ve always been so dramatic,” Sierra said.

  “I’m retiring. This might be my last year—hell, I want it to be my last tour. I’m ready to be done. I’m almost at the end of my contract and I know they think I’m going to stay with the label, but I haven’t signed anything and I’m not going to. I want us to move somewhere very far from L.A. at the end of next year … Italy, perhaps?” He wiggled his eyebrows at his mother. “I’m walking away.” He picked up his fork and dug into the food, feeling better than he had in a long time. “I’d like you to be there with me, Sierra.”

  Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. They looked at him like he’d just bombed a country.

  “Well, say something!”

  They both started talking at once.

  “That is the best news.”

  “I’m so glad! It’s time. I mean, I know you love it, but we miss you.”

  “You can focus on starting a family!”

  “Even if you go back to it later, you need a break!”

  And on and on it went.

  Beckham laughed and put another pork chop on his plate. He intended to eat whatever he wanted for one more night. It wouldn’t be like this once he was rehearsing.

  “Okay, I’ll come,” Sierra said quietly at first, and then louder, “I’ll do it!”

  “Really? You will?”

  She nodded.

  “Yes! Thank you! This is great. You have about two weeks to learn the material backwards and forwards. And then vocal work will be going on at the same time as the dance rehearsals. We’ll combine you guys in a few weeks.”

  “I know it pretty well already,” she said. “I’ll just need to break it to the office that I’m leaving.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I was ready for a change anyway.”