I finally had to get serious before somebody around here got hurt,” Tess said. “So I acted like an adult and filed the report.”
“Good choice,” Gina said. “Getting arrested for pitchforking Ray the landlord would probably have been bad for your career.”
“Well, actually my career is sort of dead right now.” Tess slumped down in her chair. “I wasn’t going to tell you since this is your first night back from the tour and I was looking forward to one night without trauma, but…I lost my job.”
“Oh, no.” Gina sat up, her face bleak with sympathy and concern. “What happened?”
“Don’t panic,” Tess said from the depths of her chair. “I have a plan.”
“Sure you do,” Gina said. “What happened?”
“Funding cuts. The education governor we elected decided that supporting private-tutoring foundations wasn’t educational. So now the Foundation is going to have to only use volunteers. Eventually the whole place may go.”
“Tess, I’m really sorry,” Gina said. “Really. I know how much those kids meant to you.”
“Hey.” Tess straightened and glared at Gina with mock severity. “I’m not finished yet. The kids aren’t leaving. And neither am I. I just have to find a job to pay my bills that gives me my afternoons free so I can still volunteer there.” She grinned. “I saw Pretty Woman the other night on TV, and Julia Roberts was having such a good time being objectified by Richard Gere that I seriously thought about taking up hooking, but then I thought, thirty-six is a little old to hit the streets.”
Nick knocked again. “Tess? You want me to grovel? I’ll grovel. I’ve got a great grovel. You’ve never seen my grovel—you left before I could show it to you. Come on, Tess, let me in.”
Gina jerked her head toward the door. “If you’re thinking about swapping your bod for money, go answer the door. He’s still loaded, right?”
Tess nodded. “I haven’t checked lately, but knowing Nick and his affinity for money, he’s still loaded.”
“Marry him,” Gina said.
“No,” Tess said.
“Why not?”
“Well, to begin with, he hasn’t asked me,” Tess answered. “And he’s a Republican lawyer, so my mother would disown me. And then—” Tess frowned “—I always thought it would be a good idea to marry somebody who wouldn’t try to pick up the maid of honor at the reception. Call me crazy but—”
“Since that would be me, you got no worries. Marry him.”
“You don’t know Nick,” Tess said. “He could seduce Mother Teresa.” She cocked her head toward the door and listened for a moment. “And it doesn’t seem to be an option anymore. I think he got tired and left.” She tried hard not to be disappointed. After all, she’d had no intention of opening the door anyway.
Still, it wasn’t like Nick to give up that fast, dangerous hallway or not. He must not have missed her that much, after all.
Damn.
NICK LEANED against the wall outside Tess’s door and analyzed the situation. Pounding was obviously not getting him anyplace, and his charm was bombing, too, which was a new experience for him. What the hell was wrong here? Maybe she was still mad, but she couldn’t be that mad. Not Tess. Tess erupted all over the place and then forgot about it. She’d never sulked in her life. So there was something else keeping her from falling at his feet. Nick grinned at the thought. Okay, she’d never fallen at his feet. But she’d never slammed a door in his face, either.
She was upset about something.
That wasn’t good. He liked Tess, and the thought of her being unhappy bothered him. He spared a fleeting thought of concern for her and then returned to his own problem.
She wasn’t upset with him. She hadn’t slammed the door on him right away, so it was something else. Probably one of her lame ducks in trouble. And when he’d tried that dumb line about her looking great—when she actually looked like hell—she’d gotten exasperated and slammed the door. All right, so he deserved the door. Now all he had to do was get the door open again, give her a little sympathy, and he’d be in.
If he waited half an hour and then knocked again, she might open it, thinking he’d gone away.
And if he had flowers or candy or something…No. Not for Tess. Tess would not be impressed with generic peace offerings. He thought about the problem for another minute and then left, surveying the gloomy hall with contempt as he went.
“I THINK you shoulda let him in,” Gina said. “Rich lawyers don’t grow on trees.” She flexed her right leg cautiously. “Hey, you got any muscle rub? My calves are killing me.”
“I don’t have time to toy with Nick right now. I have to work on my plan.” Tess rose and walked the few steps across her tiny apartment to her bathroom, stepping over several sloppy stacks of books, a pile of mismatched socks, a bundle of partly graded essays and a half-finished poster that said I Read Banned Books. “I have a chance at a teaching job, but I don’t know if I can get it. I’m not really qualified for it, and it would be working with a bunch of rich kids, so they’d probably think I was an alien, but the money is good and the hours are great.”
When she’d found the muscle cream, she went back out and handed it to Gina and then dropped back into her chair.
Gina squirted the cream onto her fingers. “Go for it. It beats starving.” She winced as she rubbed the cream into her calf.
Tess sat up, her job problems forgotten. “Are you all right? I thought this was just your usual dancer’s cramp.”
“No, I’m not all right,” Gina said. “I’m thirty-five. I’m not snapping back like I used to.” She rubbed her calves again, frowning at the ache. “I’m starting to really hate the pain. I never liked it, but now I’m starting to hate it.”
Tess wasn’t sure what to say. “How can I help?”
Gina laughed. “You can’t. It’s age.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tess began, but Gina waved her into silence.
“Honey, I’m the Grandma Moses of the chorus line.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tess said again. “You work all the time. You’re never out of a job. How many dancers can say that?”
“I’m never out of a job because I always show up, I’m never sick, I never screw up, and I never leave the show in New Jersey to get married.” Gina stretched out her legs, the pain reflected in her face easing a little. “But that’s not gonna carry me forever.” She shrugged. “’Course, neither will my legs.” She stared at them as if they were something she’d picked up on sale and now regretted. “I don’t think I ever want to do another plié again.”
“You’re joking.” Tess fell silent for half a second and then regrouped. “What do you want to do?”
“I
