July (Calendar Girl #7)(20)

I shook my head. “Sorry, Maria. I’m beat. I’d like to take a bath, make a PB & J, and veg out in front of the TV before passing out. Do you have any idea how hard you worked us? And physically, I didn’t have a crazy involved part like the other guys!”

Her eyes gleamed, the previous ire cooling, bringing back her normal silver-blue eyes that I swear you could stare at for days and never tire of.

“Hard work is good for you. Makes you appreciate the end product more.”

We stood and she led me back to the room.

Anton had been pacing the floor, almost wearing a hole in it. “Lucita!” His shoulders slumped. “I got caught up. Lo siento. Please, forgive me.” He looked immensely sad, heartbroken, as if he’d done something horribly wrong. He didn’t. Sure he might have lost sight for a moment, but his response to the mood of the room and the way the routine was going perfectly was natural. If I weren’t so screwed up, it would have been fun, well received even.

“Anton, seriously, it’s fine.” I walked over to him and opened my arms. He walked into them and stood there letting me hug him. When his hands weren’t clasping me, it was easy to be near him. Comfortable. “You can hug me.”

He lifted his arms and pulled me into his chest harder. The niggling fear and anxiety started up, but I pushed it down. Anton was a good man with a huge heart. He made a mistake that wouldn’t have even been a mistake if I hadn’t been the victim of an assault. “I’m sorry, Mia. It won’t happen again,” he whispered in my ear and released me.

Maria clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “That’s all for today folks. Go on home. Tomorrow you get a day off and then it’s back to a couple of days for rehearsal where we’ll perfect the routines. Then we tape!” The ten dancers hooted and hollered, smacking high fives to one another, doing the man-hug thing.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Anton asked as Heather entered the room. She noticed our position and frowned. I tried to smile at her as she approached.

She stopped about four feet from us, crossed her arms over her chest, and pursed her lips. “Word is you want to talk to me?”

Anton bristled. “Chilly reception,” he murmured and I laughed, hugged him once more, and pulled away.

“You getting food?” Heather asked.

I shook my head. “Nope, eating in tonight. Need to rest and take a hot bath to soak these muscles!” I spoke loud enough for Maria to hear. She did a tit lift and a head tilt while laughing, obviously proud of herself. Damn, the bitch was cool. Everything from her sumptuous body to her dancing ability, her beauty, she was all that and a bag of chips. I wondered if she had a guy. Alec would rock her world. Hell, Alec had rocked my world and often.

No more Alec.

I sighed and moved to Heather, hugged her close and whispered, “Go easy on him. He may be clueless, but he loves you like a sister. Give him the benefit of the doubt okay?” I pushed back and held her at arm’s length. Her blue eyes filled with unshed tears and she nodded. “Okay, go get ‘em tiger,” I said and smacked her ass hard as I passed.

“Ouch! Bitch!” she yelled, though the enthusiasm in her tone proved she wasn’t mad.

I flicked a hand behind my back giving her the finger. “Sit on it and spin!”

Behind me, I could hear her say to Anton. “Can you believe her?”

Anton laughed then a muffled oompf filled my ears. I turned around to see Anton squeezing the life out of Heather. “Don’t leave me, H. I need you.”

“You don’t need me.”

“Bullshit! You take care of me.”

I waited to see how she’d respond. “Yeah, you know what, I do. Time for you to realize that and make something of it or I’m walking.”

“You walk and I’ll run after you. No other band is getting my manager,” he roared.

“Manager?” The word came out broken and gritty, almost as if it hurt to say it.

“That’s right. People want me to play their venues? They go through my manager. They want me to pimp their product? They go through my manager. They want me doing awards shows? They go through my manager. And that, chica, is you. From here on out, Heather Renee is the Latin Lov-ah’s Manager.”

She paced in front of him. “So, that means I get a raise?”

He nodded. “Big f*cking raise, H. How’s about fifteen percent on every gig.”

A sharp whistle left Maria’s lips.

“Seriously?”

“You bring me the jobs, you get paid. I looked into it H. That’s more than fair, plus we pay your expenses out of our business account when we travel. Your name will appear on the albums, the whole enchilada. So”—he held his hand out—“do we have a deal or what?”

Heather’s eyes were wide; her mouth opened and closed like she couldn’t catch her breath. “But…but…but, that’s so much.”

It was a rhetorical statement but Anton answered anyway. “No, it’s what’s going to happen for me to keep my talent. Now, you gonna keep me hanging, or are we going to do this?”

Heather held out her hand. It trembled as she clasped Anton’s. Without hesitation he pulled her into his arms in what I knew was a bone-crushing hug. I’d been on the other side of those arms when he was worried or frightened. “Never doubt my love for you. H, you are the most talented woman I know. You keep me going. Having my sister, my hermana, my mejor amiga making sure I’m taken care of, getting us the best contracts, that’s my dream come true. I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier.”