Chapter Eleven
Garret had known Senator Oster’s house was big, and Isabelle giving him a code to open the gate at the end of their driveway had been another hint about how rich they were, but he was still overwhelmed when it came into view. All the houses on his street would probably fit inside it. Several of his teammates lived on this side of town, but none of their houses compared to this. It could easily be a hotel. He’d been excited to see Isabelle, but his anticipation slipped away with the realization of how different their lives were.
Unsure where to park, he pulled into the circular drive at the front of the house and left his vintage Mustang in a spot where it couldn’t be seen from inside the house. Someday he’d have it fully restored, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon. He straightened his shoulders and walked up and rang the doorbell, then exhaled in relief when Isabelle answered the door.
“You didn’t mention that you live in a palace.”
She rolled her eyes at him, a gesture he’d come to expect from her. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. He was used to seeing her in skin-tight dance clothes, but he rarely saw her outside of the studio or school. The short dress she wore hugged her in all the right places, and his heart thrummed in response.
“It’s not close to being a palace, but it is way too big for two people. And most of the time it’s just me here.” She waved him into the two-story foyer. “C’mon. Let’s head up to the media room so we can watch the partnering videos. Maybe if we have extra time we can watch an episode of Twilight Zone.”
“Is this like the carrot and the stick thing from history? You trying to reward me?”
She bit back a grin. “Maybe.”
They walked through the marble entrance toward the kitchen. She went in to get something, and he stopped in the doorway. Something poked him in the back. The hair on his neck rose. He turned.
“Holy crap.” It was a huge dog. He patted it on the head, and when it didn’t try to eat him, he scratched behind its ear. The dog flopped to the ground and rolled over, so he gave it a belly rub.
“Roley is an attention whore. Now that you’ve petted her, she’s going to trail you all over the house.”
He followed Isabelle toward a huge curved staircase, but when he put his foot on the first step, a large projectile smacked into his stomach, nearly knocking him down.
“Oof. Are there any more of these things around?”
Isabelle patted the second giant dog. “Dozer is just doing his job. He actually guards us. But Roley, she’d happily let someone steal the entire contents of the house as long as he was willing to pet her.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever decide to rob you.” Hearing her name, Roley poked him in the back of his thigh. Maybe she wanted him to go up the stairs faster. No. Something wet seeped through his jeans. “Isabelle?”
“Yes?”
“Your dog just used me as a human napkin.”
She laughed so hard she snorted then smacked her hand over her mouth. He’d make her pay for that later. “There’s a towel around here somewhere.”
Forget his fears about her dad. Either of those dogs could kill him and eat him, leaving no evidence for anyone to find. Not to mention, there were hundreds of places to dispose of his body in the house alone.
They continued up the stairs, and when they reached the top, she threw him a small towel. It was too late, though—the drool had already soaked through to his skin, but he wiped the dog’s mouth so she couldn’t do it again.
They followed a long hallway with gleaming wood floors to what she had called the media room.
His entire house would fit in just this room. The screen was huge, easily as big as the smaller screen at the Brinson Movie House, and the walls were carpeted to muffle the sound. There were twelve theater-style chairs with built-in cup holders, and a real popcorn machine and soda fountain lined the far wall. Speakers were strategically mounted along the ceiling.
“Isabelle.”
She turned to face him. “Why don’t you call me Izzy like everybody else?”
“Because I want to stand out from everyone else.”
Crap. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. Now more than ever, the differences between their lives seemed overwhelming, but as strange as it was even to him, there was a pull between them that he couldn’t ignore. Even when she’d first tried to blackmail him, he’d been drawn to her. But they were only fake dating, so none of it mattered.
But for some reason, it did.
The silence was heavy between them until she finally spoke. “He built this room for me. So I could watch my mother’s movies on the big screen.”
His throat was suddenly dry. All the money in the world couldn’t bring her mother back. Maybe they weren’t so different after all. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, I know it’s over the top, but, well…”
Great. Now he’d made her feel bad because her dad was filthy rich. “So where are these magic videos that are going to turn us into the world’s best dancing partners?”
She went over to a huge control panel on the wall and plugged her phone into it. “I’m just going to stream from the internet, but if you’re nice to me, I might invite you to watch a real movie sometime.”
“I’d like that.” At least they’d moved away from the topic of her mom.
“Have a seat. Let’s watch, and then maybe we can practice in the studio when we’re done.”
“Don’t you have a midnight curfew?” he asked.
“Yes, but it doesn’t count when I’m already at home.”
It took a minute for his brain to process. “You have a ballet studio here.”
She blushed. “Yes, though my dad regrets having it built. He’s never wanted me to pursue dancing professionally.”
He pushed back the thought that he didn’t belong here. His mother was a huge fan of Eleanor Roosevelt. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
This was his issue, not Isabelle’s. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I tried to get my dad to make us a practice field at the salvage yard, but it didn’t happen. He doesn’t want me to pursue a career in football, either.” Some problems were universal.
She swallowed. “Parents are so out of touch sometimes.” Turning around, she grabbed her phone. “Let’s start with the five-minute video about the secrets of partnering. It’s a good overview.”
The screen lit up and the video started. The guy narrating it had a very slight Russian accent.
It was good to have a visual of what he was supposed to be doing. Some of the techniques freaked him out, though, especially the lifts where the guy’s hands were in places they definitely shouldn’t be. Like between her legs.
The picture froze. “Garret? What’s wrong?”
Oh, man. There was no way he was going to tell her what was bothering him.
“You look like you’re about to faint.”
“No, I’m fine.”
She bit back a smile. “First, we won’t be doing more than one or two lifts. Second, hands slipping into places they’re not meant to be are common in dance. It’s not a big deal. If your hand slips out of position, I’ll understand.”
Any second now, he was going to burst into flames. “Got it.”
She clicked the remote, and they watched the rest of it in silence. He could only hope they’d stick to lifts and turns that kept his hands on her waist. No higher, and no lower.
“I’m glad he explained about how to push you around properly. I didn’t really get that last time.”
“So you’re planning to push me around, huh?”
He shook his head. “You know what I mean. How to turn you.”
“Should we watch each individual video now?”
“If you think it’ll help. Do you have paper so I can take notes?” At least that way he could keep his head down so she wouldn’t see how uncomfortable he was. Who knew dance could be so tricky.
“Um, let me look.” She shuffled around the room, checking in the cabinets under the popcorn maker. “Aha. I found a pad and a pen. Score.” She handed them to him.
“It’s good for me that you have low standards.”
“Huh?”
“You seem kind of excited to have found what you wanted on the first try.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Has anyone ever told you you’re weird?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
She shook her head and started the next video. By the time they’d finished all of them, he thought he had a better idea of what he was supposed to be doing. He wasn’t at all confident he wouldn’t mess up, though. He’d taken tons of notes, and she texted him the links to the videos so he could watch them again.
“Izzy?” A voice carried from downstairs.
He bolted upright. “Uh, oh. Who’s that?”
“It’s just Anna Maria. She lives in the apartment over the garage and looks after me when my dad’s away.”
“We’re coming down,” she called. “It’s almost eleven, so I guess we’ll have to wait to practice. It’s probably better if we work with Lauren a few more times before we try it on our own anyway.”
She headed for the stairs.
“Whatever you say. You’re the expert.”
She glanced back at him. “Hardly. Lauren’s the expert.”
“Well, you know a lot more than I do.”
“With your level of experience, I don’t consider that a compliment.”
The staircase they took down ended in the kitchen, which was also bigger than his entire house.
“Hey, Anna Maria. This is Garret Mitchell. Remember I told you he was coming over to watch some dance videos?”
“Hi, Garret. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands.
She turned toward Isabelle. “So, I trust you two behaved while you were up there.”
“Actually, his hands were all over me.”
“Isabelle!” Was she trying to get him killed?
She grinned. “Well, they were. But only when we were practicing pirouettes.”
Anna Maria narrowed her eyes. “Not funny, Izzy. If your father had heard that, we’d all be in trouble.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing Dad isn’t here.”
Right on cue, a rumble sounded. Someone was opening a garage door.
Isabelle paled, confirming it was her father. He wasn’t sure whether she was afraid of her dad, or if she was embarrassed about inviting him to her house.
The door from the garage flew open and a man he assumed was Senator Oster walked in. He was staring at his phone and hadn’t looked up yet except to kick the door closed.
“Whose car is that in the—” He stopped when their eyes met. Garret held his gaze, waiting to find out if he passed the test. The senator put his hand out. “I’m Izzy’s dad.”
Garret shook it firmly. “I’m Garret Mitchell. It’s nice to meet you, Senator Oster.”
“You’re on the football team, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How did the food turn out last weekend?”
Garret had to give him credit. He put two and two together pretty quickly. “It went very well. The team appreciates your help.”
“Good, good.” He moved over to the counter and started going through the mail.
Garret looked at Isabelle. She raised her brows and shrugged.
“Well, I guess I better be getting home.”
Isabelle rushed toward him. “I’ll walk you out.” They didn’t speak until she’d stepped out and shut the front door. “I guess that went as well as could be expected.”
“Were you worried he was going to kill me and bury my body under the garage?”
“I didn’t know what to expect. You’re the first boy I’ve ever invited to the house.”
How is that possible? “What about Jeremy and Trevor?”
“They don’t count because they’ve been coming here since we were in elementary school. Oh, and now that you brought it up, why didn’t you tell me you’re friends with Jeremy?”
He leaned against the railing, debating how much to tell her. “We go to the same school. We’re bound to know some of the same people.”
“I call bull. You know Jeremy is part of my posse.” She glared at him, then her face relaxed. “Oh, and that reminds me. He said you might have plywood at the salvage yard. We need some to make props for the production.”
“Yeah, we’ve got plywood. We’ve also got some furniture and other stuff that you might be able to use for props.”
“Can I come by and look at it sometime?”
“Sure. Is next weekend soon enough?” That should give him enough time to clean things up a bit, so she didn’t have to wade through piles of trash.
“Sounds good. Thanks for coming over and watching the videos.”
He shrugged. “I’m down for anything that’ll make me look less stupid on stage.”
“So, I guess I’ll see you in history.”
“It’s a date. Did you catch the dual meaning there?”
She laughed. “That was so lame.”
He’d just closed the door to his car when her dad came out. The passenger window didn’t close all the way, so he could hear everything.
“We need to talk, young lady.”
Isabelle squared her shoulders and headed into the house.
It didn’t sound like the senator was happy to see Garret with his daughter. He really liked Isabelle, but with the differences in their situations, and the fact that they were going in very different directions after graduation, it might be best to stick to their fake relationship and not let things go any further between them.
…
Izzy followed her father into his office. That was never a good thing. He went behind the desk and sat in his huge chair, no doubt hoping to intimidate her, but she knew all of his tricks.
“What’s going on with that boy?”
She debated how much to tell him. Usually part of the truth worked best. It was important not to tell him everything or he’d have ammunition to use against her. “We’ve been at the same school since kindergarten, and I met him at the dance studio over the summer.”
“A dancing football player? That’s…interesting.”
Maybe Garret did have a point about not wanting people to know about it.
“His little sister is in one of the ballet classes I teach.” It was the truth, even if it wasn’t how they met. “We weren’t able to borrow a dancer from Northern for the fall production this year because they’re already booked that weekend, so he agreed to fill in.”
His brows lowered. “Wait. So he is a dancer?”
She shook her head. “He’s never danced before. We’re teaching him a couple of lifts so I can have all the required elements in the show, since it’s also my audition for Ballet Americana.”
“About that.” He steepled his hands. “I want you to go to college first. If you’re still interested in dance once you graduate, then I’ll support you, but I insist you graduate from college before working as a dancer.”
Her stomach lurched. “But that’s not what I want. You know how easy it is to get hurt. One bad injury and I’d be done. There’s no reason I can’t go to college after dancing for a few years.”
“Do you really think they’re going to hire a pierced, purple-haired girl to join the company?”
She sighed. Every conversation they had always came back to this. She was tired of arguing with him, of his inability to listen to what she wanted, of his stubborn refusal to see who she really was. “No, I think they’re going to hire the best dancer.”
He frowned. “We’re going to be campaigning heavily starting in the new year. I need you to drop this rebellious streak and start acting like the mature girl you claim to be.”
“It’s called self-expression, Dad.”
“Whatever it is, I’m done with it.”
“Well, I’m not.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Is this about that boy?”
“What? No. Garret’s not Goth. You saw him.”
“Nevertheless, I want you to stay away from him. The last thing we need is you getting knocked up while I’m campaigning.”
Because everything was always about him and his dreams. Her throat closed up and she fought tears. She’d never even dated. How could he think she’d be having sex already? A sudden thought made bile rise in her throat. “Is that what happened to Mom? You got her pregnant and had to marry her? Everything is my fault, right? That’s why you hate me.”
He looked as if she had slapped him. “Izzy, no. One of my unmarried campaign aides is expecting and we had to move her to a less prominent position. And as for you, your mother and I were married for more than a year before you were born. We wanted to have kids.” He stood and came around the desk, then knelt in front of her. “Honey, why would you think that? I don’t hate you. I love you more than anything.”
He pulled her into his arms, and she relaxed into him.
“Oh, Izzy. I loved your mom so much, but I love you even more.” He leaned back a bit and met her eyes. “You look so much like her. She loved you, too, but she was very insecure and always needed to be reassured by other people. Though she wanted a family, she resented being stuck here in Texas, and she couldn’t handle taking care of a baby on her own. She craved attention, and it led to her dependence on drugs and alcohol, and then… Well, my point is that it wasn’t your fault. She had an addiction she couldn’t control, and I didn’t do enough to help her. If anyone is at fault, it’s me.”
Izzy sniffled and started to pull away.
“Honey, I’m sorry. Not about wanting you to go to college, but about how I spoke to you. I shouldn’t be taking my frustrations out on you. Will you forgive me?”
She nodded.
“Will you at least consider going to college before joining a dance company? I’ve been researching some of the dance programs, and there are some good ones out there. I even have a contact at Julliard.”
“I’ll think about it.” The last thing she wanted was him using his connections to get her into Julliard, but she’d worry about that later. At least he meant well. “It makes sense to apply to a few schools as a backup in case I don’t make the company.”
Sometimes, she even thought about whether she should go to school first, especially when she thought about how much she wanted to be close enough to Garret to see him regularly, but the minute Dad tried to tell her what to do, she fought whatever he wanted.
“That’s my girl.” He stood up. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”
Her head was spinning, but at least she understood more about everything. No matter how much they disagreed, they always made up over ice cream. She pushed past him and slipped through the kitchen door so she’d get first dibs. “I don’t think there’s enough chocolate chip cookie dough for both of us.”
“Why, you little—”
“Oh, Anna Maria must’ve gone to the store. We’re good.” She grabbed two large bowls and filled them, then went to the table. They sat and ate in silence for a few minutes.
“So,” Dad said. “Tell me about this Garret. Is he a good football player?”
“He’s captain of the team, and he’s had some scholarship offers.”
He licked the back of his spoon. “Is he just a friend, or do you like him, like him?”
She shook her head. “Dad, you’re too old to say things like that.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
She shrugged. “I do like him, but we’re not dating.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think I’d know if we were dating.”
He laughed. “I meant do you think you might want to date him at some point?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Yes. But blackmail wasn’t a great foundation for a relationship, and her dad giving him the third degree wouldn’t help, either.
Dad licked the back of his spoon. “Do me a favor. If that maybe becomes a yes, let me know.”
She stiffened. “You are not doing a background check on him.”
“I wasn’t planning to.” He smiled. “This is a small town. I can find out what I need to know with a few phone calls to the high school and the police department.”
Izzy dropped her head onto the table.
“Iz?”
“Yes?” She sat up and stuffed another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.
“Is it time for me to ask Anna Maria to take you to the doctor and get…um…birth control?”
Though it didn’t seem possible, she choked on her ice cream. “Dad! No! Geez. I told you we’re not dating.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re not…doing something else.”
“Dad!” She was in danger of spontaneously combusting if he didn’t stop talking.
He held his hands up. “All right. Just make sure you talk to Anna Maria about it if you need to. But I’d rather you wait until you’re at least thirty.”
“Dad.” She shook her head. Getting him to butt out was a lost cause. But their conversation had sparked a small change in their relationship and created a path for them that would hopefully lead them back to being as close as they were when she was younger. Now if only she could figure out what to do with Garret.