Amorous Liaisons

Max had abandoned his career as a dancer to care for his father. Walked away just as his star was rising. At least she had had the chance to realize many of her dreams before Andrew and Dr. Hanson had written her off.

Her bleak thoughts must have been evident in her face when he returned because he shoved a plate of sliced, pâté-smeared baguette at her.

“Eat something, soak up that wine. I don’t want you messy drunk too soon,” he said.

“I’m off carbs,” she said before she could think. “Need to drop weight.”

How stupid was that? She didn’t need to drop weight anymore. She could eat herself to the size of a house if she wanted to.

She looked at Max, desperately seeking some magic cure for the hollow feeling inside her.

“How did you do it?” she asked in a small voice. “How did you walk away? Didn’t you miss it? Didn’t you need it?”

He slid the plate onto the table. There was sympathy in his eyes, and old pain.

“I had lots of distractions. Worry over Père, practical things to sort out. I didn’t have the time to think about it for a long while.”

“And then?”

“It was hard. Nothing feels like dancing. Nothing.”

She nodded, swallowing emotion. “It’s my life. I’ve given it everything, every hour of every day.”

“I know. It was one of the things I always admired about you. You were the most passionate dancer I knew.”

Her jaw clenched.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to use past tense,” he said.

God, he was so perceptive. Always had been.

“I can’t believe it’s over. It’s too big, too much,” she said.

A heavy silence fell. She could feel Max trying to find something to say, something that would make it all right. But there was nothing he or anyone could say or do. The decision had been made.

She shook her head and shoulders, deliberately shaking off the grim mood that had gripped her.

“Tell me about you. About your dad and…Charlotte, right? That’s your sister’s name, isn’t it?”

They talked their way through the first bottle of wine and then the second. Maddy ate more than half of the bread and pâté and by ten was bleary-eyed with fatigue and alcohol.

“I need to go find a hotel,” she said.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re staying here.”

As soon as he said it, something inside her relaxed. She’d been hoping he would offer. She could still remember how she used to crawl into bed with him when it was cold and the heating wasn’t up to the task of fending off the drafts from the many, many cracks and gaps in their house. The smell of Max all around her, the warmth of his body next to hers. He used to pull her close and she’d fall asleep with her head on his shoulder.

Just the thought of feeling that safe again made her chest ache.

“You can have my bed, I’ll sack out on the couch,” he said, standing to clear the dishes.

She stared up at him.

“I don’t mind sharing with you. We used to sleep together all the time. Remember?” She hoped she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt.

He hesitated a moment. “Sure. I’ll try not to hog the quilt. It’s been a while since I’ve shared with anyone.”

She smiled up at him, relieved. “You know, I’m glad I came. It was a bit weird at first, but that was only because we hadn’t seen each other for a while. And now it feels like the old days.”

He looked away, his focus distant.

“The old days. Yeah.”

“Do you mind if I have a shower first?” she asked.

“Of course not. I’ll get you a towel.”

He moved away, disappearing through a doorway to one side of the living area. Maddy began weaving her long hair into a braid to prevent it from getting wet.

She had no idea what tomorrow held. Even acknowledging that fact was a scary, scary thing for a dancer who had lived a life of strict self-discipline.

For a moment she got dizzy again and her heart began to pound. No rehearsal. No costume fittings. No classes. No gym or Pilates. What would she do with the time? God, what would she do with the rest of her life?

Max reappeared with a fluffy white towel and a fresh bar of soap.

“The bathroom’s pretty primitive, but it gets the job done,” he said.

The panic subsided as she looked into his clear gray eyes.

It would be all right. She was here with Max, and somehow she would find a way through this.

She stood and took the towel, then rested her hand on his forearm for a few seconds to feel the reassuring warmth of him.

Definitely she had done the right thing coming here, no matter how crazy it had seemed at first. Definitely.

MAX RAN A HAND ACROSS the bristle of his buzz cut as Maddy disappeared through the bathroom door.

Maddy Green. He couldn’t quite believe that she was in his apartment after all these years.

The shock of seeing her on his doorstep continued to resonate within him. It was almost as though thinking of her today at his father’s apartment had conjured her into his life.

She was still beautiful, with her long, rich brown hair and deep brown eyes. And being in the same room with her was still an experience in itself—her body vibrated with so much emotion and intensity, she was utterly compelling. It was one of the reasons she was such a joy to watch on stage—she had presence, star quality. She’d always drawn people to her.

He heard the shower come on and began collecting glasses and plates.

Her perfume hung in the air, something flowery and light. The same perfume she’d always worn.

Jesus. I still remember her perfume. How sappy is that?