Bookshelf Confessions welcomes Jamie Carie:
Bookshelf Confessions had made a tour for Jamie's series Forgotten Castles, check out the tour here.
We have also reviewed:
The Guardian Duke
Forgiven Duke
A duke's Promise (to come)
Madeline Goode is devastated when her husband dies in a car accident. After moving back in with her parents with her two year old son, Max, she attempts to put the pieces of her life back together. But she didn’t plan on meeting Jake Hart, the star NBA player that she keeps bumping into at her new job as a charity coordinator for the Racers. And she certainly didn’t plan on learning that her husband’s accident may have been no accident at all. Will Jake stick around while her life gets complicated? And if she gives in to her heart, will she just be making another mistake? Rushing to the Altar may be the most daring and risky move of her life.
CHAPTER TWO
A sweet-faced woman was leading a line of
children into the practice court where the dancers had gathered, ready to
begin, when a tall, lanky man with a gray beard and mustache, eyes bugged and panicked,
arms waving, stopped them.
“The show has
been moved. Please, take the children back to the stadium. The children need to
find their seats immediately.”
Barb stepped up
to the man, questions rushing from her hot-pink lips.
Maddie just
stood frozen, deer in the headlights, knowing that something really bad was
about to happen. Some sixth sense told her, or maybe it was the ecstatic smile
on Barb’s face, either way, Maddie could feel the weight coming toward her,
about to run her down, squashed into the pavement by life again, and there
wasn’t going to be a thing she could do to get out of it. No brilliant rolling
to the side of the road for her. No dodging the truck coming right for her
torso. No. She was about to get good and flattened.
The other
dancers, faces registering different degrees of shock and awe, surged toward
the man.
Barb turned to
explain, breathless, eyes alight, like a cheerleader on speed, with something Maddie
had long ago hoped she would never see in Barb’s eyes again—heaven help them, “Barbarian
Barb” was back. “Mr. McKlesky just explained that one of the halftime acts had
a bus accident on the way here and won’t be able to perform. No one was
injured,” she assured them in a rush, “but they won’t make it here in time for
the show.” She paused for effect, eyes wide, lifted her arms and turned her
hips to one side, then announced with a dazzling smile, “Ladies, we’ve been
bumped to the halftime show at Bankers Life Fieldhouse.” Seeing some of her
students’ faces, she quickly added, “Now, don’t be nervous. Our routine is all
of four minutes and we know it beautifully.” Her voice lowered to a growl. “We
can do this.”
They had
little time to debate it as Mr. McKlesky motioned them to follow the children
out the door. “Ladies, ladies, please, we must get into position. Everything is
very precise timing around here. Now, let’s move.”
As if an army
drill sergeant had spoken, the women lined up and followed Barb out, suppressing
nervous laughter as it echoed across the high-ceilinged hallways.
Maddie was
careful to wait for the back of the line before moving, hoping for some miracle
to save her. Maybe she would trip on the stairs and break something, she
thought hysterically. Or maybe she could just slink away. Yes, that was it. She
would disappear from this nightmare, run to the car and call Sasha’s cell phone,
then avoid Barb for the rest of her life.
The idea had no
sooner lodged into her thought processes when she was slowing down, letting the
line of dancers get further and further ahead of her. Just a few more feet and
she could dash down an upcoming hallway.
One of the
girls coughed, causing Barb to look back and frown at them, seeing Maddie so
far behind she motioned with her arm and hissed, “Come on, girls. Get a move
on. This is our big break!”
Her eyes were
truly feverish now.
The corner of
the hall loomed and Maddie made to sidestep into it when she felt a hand clamp
down on her shoulder.
“Where do you
think you’re going, missy?” It was Mr. McKlesky. “No nerves now. No time for
that.”
He turned her
back toward the line and gave her backside a smack. She squeaked with outrage.
Had he really just done that? She couldn’t believe it! She stopped and spun around
to give him a piece of her mind, only to find him gone. Somehow disappeared. Turning
back, fuming, she took another few steps and found herself on the floor of Bankers
Life Fieldhouse, the bright lights now taking on a whole new meaning.
Her skin
prickled and flushed to her hairline as thousands of eyes stared at her and
then she groaned as their gazes seemed to slide down from her face to the black
bra. She walked in front of the rows of players’ chairs and poised at the end
of the line, waiting, feeling like her backside was coming out of the leotard
and wanting desperately to tug it down, but knowing she couldn’t possibly. Her
mind went completely blank as she followed the dancers to the middle of the
glossy yellow floor. She could almost see her reflection in it; the thought buzzed
like a numb distraction, then she laughed, a brief expelled breath of hysteria.
This was a
nightmare. She would wake up at any moment in a cold sweat.
She pinched
her leg, felt the slight pain and nearly passed out.
Maybe God
would have pity on her now and send an earthquake to open up this overly waxed
wood floor and swallow her whole. Massive deaths and the carnage of falling
spectators raced across her imagination. Okay, too violent just to save her
pride. A small tornado, taking only her? A lightning bolt. Just a little zap to
get her out of here. That would really be perfect.
No such luck. Before
she knew it, Maddie was standing in the middle of the court, at the far right
side and in the front—no one in front of her and no one behind her—black lace
bra exposed to a bazillion fans. How could she have forgotten the dancer at the
end of the line stood in front for the beginning of the dance?
Well, it had
happened. The worst thing that could possibly happen to her at a public
sporting event had actually come to pass, so she might as well have fun, right?
After all, there were the precious children, sitting right there on the second
row. They looked so eager, so sweet and excited…Maddie paused, squinting her
eyes. Were those two boys talking behind their hands and pointing at her?
A giant
television camera seemed to come out of nowhere and zoomed in on her as the
crackling of the music started on the million-dollar sound system.
They were not
broadcasting this on television, were they? Thousands of eyes just turned into
millions.
She heard Barb
give the count as she pasted a bright smile on her face and started moving. Slap
to the right hip, slap to the left, turn, pivot, freeze, turn, pivot, freeze.
Rock step to the right. Flash hands overhead. Rock back to the left. Turn and
look over one shoulder.
Barb hadn’t
exaggerated that the steps were ancient. It had all come back to her and
really, it was kind of fun. After
all, what a great story to tell Max when he got a little older.
Lemonade. Lemonade. Lemonade.
~~~~~~
Sasha sat in
the stands, eyes wide, mouth hanging open with an “oh no” coming audibly from
her lips.
“Hey.” A big
man leaned over into her space, causing Sasha to lean sideways and stare
warningly at him. “Isn’t that your friend? That pretty gal who was sitting
beside you?” His stale breath wafted over her face.
“No. It
isn’t.” Sasha turned back toward Maddie, ignoring the snorting sound coming from
the man, and shook her head. “She’s gonna wish
I didn’t know her when this is over,” Sasha whispered.
~~~~~~
It was over
almost as soon as it had begun. Maddie had no idea how they’d done, could
hardly remember even dancing as they marched off the floor and back up the
stairs to the rehearsal room. It was over. She would change now and go listen
to Sasha retell the whole thing until Maddie threatened to kill her. Life would
go on. She would never, ever wear a black bra again, but life would go on.
Minutes later,
amid the dance troupe’s excited chatter and different states of undress, Mr. McKlesky
stormed into the room, face red, eyes bulging.
The girls
shrieked and tried to cover themselves.
“Who’s in
charge here? Who owns this monstrosity?”
When no one
answered and it appeared that Barb was going to remain hidden behind the changing
screen, he leapt at the one closest—Maddie.
“You…the
cowering one…I should have known you would be disastrous.” Grasping her by the
arm, he shook her hard, causing her neck to snap back and her shoulder to
wrench. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you? My career is at stake
here! I’ll be fired over this! Do you know how ridiculous and horrible your
team was? You’ve made me a laughing stock.”
Maddie cried
out in pain and tried to pull free.
“I’ll have
your heads for this. You’ll never perform again!” His murderous gaze swept the
room and then lit back on Maddie. Unable to contain his rage, he shook her
again.
The door
opened behind them and Maddie saw a man in an expensive suit enter the room. He
strode over to Mr. McKlesky, gripped the arm that was still holding onto Maddie
and must have squeezed hard enough so that Mr. McKlesky abruptly let go.
“What are you
doing, Frank? What are you thinking?”
Mr. McKlesky,
or Frank it seemed, slowly came back to reality, looked back and forth from the
nice-looking man to Maddie and then back again. “I quit,” he shouted, turning
to run. “I quit!”
“This isn’t
going to go away that easily, Frank. Wait for me outside the door.”
Maddie and the
rest of the room watched as Frank McKlesky realized what he had done, his face
dawning in degrees of horror and fear. He stumbled from the room.
The man turned
to Maddie. “Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?”
Maddie’s open
mouth snapped closed. She rolled her shoulder around and found it surprisingly
fine. She grimaced but shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think I’m all right.”
The man led
her toward a quiet corner. “I’m Jordan Tyler. I work for the Racers, and rest
assured that we will take care of this. Would like me to call the police? Would
you like to press charges?”
The combined
events of the last hour finally took its toll on Maddie, and to her complete
mortification she began to shake.
Mr. Tyler
looked alarmed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Words she
hadn’t spoken to anyone since the funeral poured out to this kind and well-meaning
stranger. “Okay? Do I look okay? I just danced in front of thousands of people under
excruciating bright lights in this,” she looked down at her leotard, motioning
with her hands toward her hips, “horrendous get-up with my underwear showing
through. I thought the worst was over. Then I come back here and get accosted
by a deranged man who claims that I ruined his career. I was out of practice,
sure, but I’m not that bad a dancer.”
To her great dismay, she started to tear up and shake in anger and frustration.
“I didn’t deserve to be shaken like that.”
“Of course
not.” The man took off his suit jacket and placed it around her shoulders. “He
will be fired immediately. Stay here.” He reached into his pants pocket and
pulled out a phone. “We need to call the police.”
He dialed the
number and the next half-hour was spent reliving the event over and over. Barb
stayed, genuinely concerned, but she couldn’t really be of much help as she’d
been hiding behind the changing screen most of the time. Several of the other
women, though, had seen the whole thing and were quick to give their accounts
to the police. Mr. McKlesky was found trying to leave the parking garage and
taken to the police station.
When they were
all gone, Mr. Tyler came back over to her and touched her gently on the
shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Mrs. Goode.”
“I’m, um, a
widow. You can call me Maddie.”
He reached out
to grasp her hand. “I’m so sorry. Was it recent?”
“A little over
six months ago.”
“You’re so
young.”
“Yes, that’s
what everyone says. He was very young too.”
The man looked
into her eyes for a moment, silent and searching. “I am truly sorry.”
He sounded so
sincere, like he would say something better if he knew what to say. Maddie gave
him a wobbly smile. “Thank you, Mr. Tyler.”
“Please, call
me Jordan. I’m not quite old enough to be your father.” He smiled kindly at her.
“You’ve been through a lot lately, haven’t you?” He paused, looking into Maddie’s
eyes again, and then asked with sudden intent, “Do you live here in town?”
Maddie nodded.
“My son, Max, and I just moved back in with my parents. I’ll get a place of my
own after I find a job.”
He stared at
her thoughtfully. “You need a job?”
Maddie
sniffed, still cold and shaky. “Yes. I’ve been looking but there isn’t much out
there that pays well.” She didn’t mention the hours spent poring over the job
ads and the “How to get a Better Career” articles online.
The man nodded
at her in understanding. “It can be tough to get back into the workforce. What
kind of experience do you have?”
Maddie shook
her head, wishing for a tissue, telling herself not to swipe her running nose
against the back of her hand. “Office work. I was a regional assistant to a
sales manager at one of those weight-loss places and then an office manager at
a mobile-phone company. I worked so that my husband could get his MBA. And
then, when I was going to go back to school, I got pregnant.”
“Any college? What’s
your educational background?”
“I have a
degree in communications from Ball State, before Brandon and I got married. Why
are you asking me all of this?”
“Well…” He
paused and stared thoughtfully at Maddie. “I can’t make any promises, but I just
happen to know of a recent job opening here, with the Racers. How would you
like to interview for Frank McKlesky’s job?”
Maddie sniffed
again. “But I’ve only ever been in administrative assistant roles and a mom.”
“We can train
you on everything you need to know. Trust me, if Frank could do the job, I
think you can. I think you will be better at it, because you’ve been there. You’ve
experienced tragedy, just like many of the people we help.”
“What was
Frank’s job?”
“One of three foundation
coordinators for the Racers. A liaison between the team and the many charities
we fund.”
“That sounds…good.”
It sounded amazing.
“Here’s my
card.” He reached toward his jacket pocket, which was currently covering her
chest.
Maddie swatted
his hand away.
Jordan
swallowed. “Sorry, I, uh, my business cards are in that pocket.” He pointed to Maddie’s
chest.
“Oh, sorry. I
forgot I was wearing your jacket. I guess I’m a little jumpy after everything.”
Maddie took off the jacket and handed it back, cool air rushing over her.
Jordan reached
into the pocket, scribbled his private cell phone number on it and held out the
card. “Call me in the morning and we will get you scheduled for an interview. And
call me sooner if you have any pain and need to get that shoulder checked out.”
He gave her hand a warm squeeze. “Again, my sincerest apologies on behalf of
the Racers.”
Maddie nodded,
barely comprehending it all. Had she really just gotten a job interview with
the Indiana Racers?
She changed
back into her clothes, throwing the leotard back into the box, imagining
burning it, the curling pink fabric going up in pretty flames.
Now, to find
Sasha. And hope she wasn’t laughing too hard.
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