Tremor Page 3

  I walked outside to the pond behind the hotel where the pink flamingos danced about. I found myself a vacant bench—most were empty at this hour—and sat and watched. The birds were so elegant, so graceful, and without a care in the world. They walked around pecking at the ground and each other; not in a nasty way, but as if this was their way of communicating. Their lives seemed so simple. They didn’t have to worry about how they were going to support themselves if their chosen career was no longer an option if they, for example, developed a physical problem like a tremor and could no longer dance. They didn’t have to wonder what was to become of them now that their life plans had been so violently altered. But surely they felt pain over losing a loved one, just as we do. All living beings do. I allowed myself to get completely lost in my thoughts as I watched the graceful creatures just exist, just be.

  I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh air. I smelled the scent of breakfast being prepared not too far away. And I began to hear the voices of children. It must be from the outdoor restaurant around the other side of the hotel, I thought.

  Soon, more people were milling about. I took out my cell phone to text Lucia. When I did so, I realized I’d been there nearly two hours. There was already a text from her.

  U OK, hon? U were gone by the time I got up.

  I’m fine. Sorry. I texted back.

  No worries. Where r u?

  At the Flamingo, in the back, watching the birds.

  OK. I’m going shopping in the Venetian. Want 2 join?

  No thx. It’s peaceful here.

  OK. Will see u 4 lunch at 12. Right?

  Yes. Where?

  Restaurant is in the Venetian. Will text u.

  Sounds good.

  I put my phone back in my bag and closed my eyes. It still wasn’t that crowded, and it was just so peaceful.

  Suddenly, I felt a presence beside me. I automatically grabbed my bag. The strap was crossed over my shoulder and body anyway, and my hand placed over the flap, but I pulled it closer. I opened my eyes, and needed a moment to adjust to the bright sunlight. It was much more crowded than before, and the sunlight was making it a bit warmer. I took my wrap off my shoulders. I must have finally fallen asleep.

  “That’s a good idea,” a male voice said. It was a voice I recognized but couldn’t immediately place. Then it hit me. Jett. “This is the quintessential tourist trap after all,” he said. “You don’t know how many thieves are about out here.”

  I sat up and looked away, back toward the birds. It appeared I wouldn’t finish my morning in peace.

  “I…must have fallen asleep. I didn’t sleep well.” I was immediately annoyed at myself for feeling defensive enough to have to explain my choices to him. “What about you? Isn’t it early for you to be up? I mean, aren’t you Mr. Late Night Partier?” I added before he had the chance to make any commentary about my sleeping habits.

  “Okay!” He laughed. “I guess that’s maybe about one fiftieth of who I am.”

  What was I saying? I didn’t know him at all. That was a total assumption. I would have apologized if he wasn’t such a pompous ass. But when I looked at him, he wore a wide grin, not seeming offended in the least. His blonde hair was mussed about and he had a five o’clock shadow, having obviously not yet shaven. I had to admit he looked quite attractive. He wore jeans and a denim jacket over a white tank top, through which I could see very well defined pecs. He smelled like fresh beach air, even though we were nowhere near the ocean. I found myself breathing him in.

  His dark sunglasses had covered his deep brown eyes, but when he took them off and I looked into them, the dream / nightmare from last night came back. I flinched in my seat. His grin grew more lopsided and cocky, like he thought his eyes had sent a chill down my spine. Ha, hardly! I thought.

  But then I heard a motorcycle engine gunning. Maybe my dream hadn’t entirely been a dream. At any rate, my right hand—the one clutching my bag—began shaking. Oh jeez. I pulled it away, and placed it behind the bag, so he couldn’t see.

  But his eyes followed the path of my hand. He’d seen it. It began trembling more, and I had to actually sit on it a bit to get it to stop, the blasted thing. His eyes became very serious, his smile gone. Great. I didn’t want to have to explain it to him, especially since I didn’t even really know what it was about.

  “I love watching the birds. They relax me,” I said instead. “But that was earlier. Now it’s getting crowded.” I scanned the crowd of people leaning on the bars, children throwing breadcrumbs and squealing. My thoughts momentarily went to the children Willem and I would never have. I really needed to stop going here every time I heard the sound of children. I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

  “Yeah, it is.” Jett followed my gaze.

  I felt my hand relax. I used it to push myself up. “So…it was nice running into you,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Yeah.” He rose along with me, putting his sunglasses back on. “So, tonight’s dark in the theater. I have the whole day off. If you want someone to show you around Vegas, I’m your man.” That cocksure laugh again. He held his arms out to his sides as if presenting his spectacular body. This guy was the embodiment of cocky! And was he for real wanting to spend part of his day off with me? I felt something catch in my chest, as if my heart skipped a literal beat. I felt a slight bit faint. What did this man want? Didn’t he have, like, several dozen women to lay? At least.

  “Um, I’m supposed to meet Lucia in the Venetian.”

  “Okay. Why don’t I walk you over there?”

  Would I ever be rid of this guy? I shrugged. “Sure.”

  It had become unbelievably crowded in the couple hours since I’d dozed off. I had to admit, I was glad he woke me up. As he led me through the throng, I took out my cell phone. No text yet from Lucia on where we were meeting. It still wasn’t for a while, anyway.

  Where are you? I texted her.

  I stared at my screen waiting for her response. Wham! A serious bump almost sent the cell phone flying out of my hand. I looked up. So many people, I had no idea who just ran into me.

  “Dude! Seriously! Watch where you’re going!” Jett yelled behind me.

  “Fuck off,” came the disembodied response.

  “Typical tourist asshole.” Jett gently touched my shoulder. It felt nice—both the shoulder touch, and him standing up for me.

  “I guess it’s not the best idea to be staring at my cell phone while walking through a crowd.” I managed a little laugh. He chuckled with me.

  After Lucia didn’t respond for several minutes, I put the phone away so I could focus on wending my way through the people. Crowds had never bothered me before. I hoped this wasn’t another new anxiety thing. I seriously didn’t need any more.

  There were already club girls standing around outside, even though it wasn’t even noon. We passed a trio of young women wearing nothing up top but strategically placed body paint. It seemed cold for that, even in Vegas. I half expected one of them to call out Jett’s name, but not only did he apparently not know any of them, he passed them right by without so much as a glance.

  We made our way up to the escalator of the Venetian. We had to go single file since it was so narrow. He extended his arm toward me, indicating I should go first. I gave him a slight smile and passed in front. I felt self-conscious with him right in back of me.

  “You really don’t have to escort me all the way,” I said over my shoulder. Though, I had to admit, he wasn’t really bothering me.

  “I’m here now, so I might as well,” he said.

  I turned back, trying to take in all the surroundings. Vegas was just so huge. Everything about it was extra sized. Not like L.A. at all, which was, despite everyone thinking it was all phony, was more real to me.

  Jett held the huge glass door open for me and politely nodded. As I passed under his arm, he shot me an ever-so-slight devilish grin that sent a little bolt of electricity down my spine that I immediately tried to kill. Ug
h. I was not going to be attracted to Mr. Womanizer.

  Once inside, he removed his sunglasses again and ran his hand over his hair as if trying to smooth out his unruly waves. If he wasn’t so pompous, he really would be quite attractive.

  I looked around. The inside was vast. I needed to find a quiet spot to text Lucia and find out where we were meeting.

  “Okay, thanks for—”

  “Oh, come on. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly.” His smile was punctuated by two dimples that caused his whole face to ooze boyish charm. Again, I felt that tingle flitter down my back. Wow. These were like my first pangs of attraction for Willem. I was just a teenager then. “Come on, let’s go find Lucia.” He held his hand toward me as he walked. Weirdly, he seemed to have direction, like he knew where I was meeting her.

  I stopped. “Where are we going?”

  “You said you were meeting your friend. I’m just…helping you get there. Since you’re new here and all.”

  “But how do you know where I’m supposed to meet her? There are a bazillion restaurants here.”

  His loopy smile and cocked eyebrow were at odds with his shrug. Lucia had wanted me to come on this trip with her. She’d been insisting ad nauseam for the past six months or so that I needed to get on with the task of living. That’s what Willem would have wanted me to do. Now I was beginning to sense this was a set up. But I’d agreed to go on a short vacation with her, not to be set up with anyone, let alone Mr. Cocky.

  I looked at my reflection in the water. We were right by one of the canal passages. I’d been to Vegas before with Willem. I’d been in this same hotel. But it was years ago. He’d had a student who wanted to compete in a competition held at the Rio. The studio was paying, so we went as well, and took the opportunity to compete ourselves. We’d done Blackpool so many times it was almost too simple for us. But we did it anyway. We won easily. I’d found the canal kind of cheesy, but also kind of nice. We’d actually taken a gondolier ride.

  Just then two happy tourists canoed past.

  “You want to take a ride in the gondolier?” Jett asked, his voice piercing my memory and taking me out of my sweet reverie. He looked at his watch. “We have time. I mean, I have all day.” He even knew what time I was supposed to meet Lucia.

  My annoyance flared. How dare she set me up with someone behind my back? And how dare he ask me to do something I’d only ever done before with the only man I’d loved? Not that he knew that.

  I found myself backing away from him. He frowned and cocked his head even more, looking thoroughly confused. This man was not used to rejection. But before he could react, high-pitched squealing female voices from behind me interrupted.

  “Oh my God, are you Tarzan?” said one. Jett smiled. Of course he did.

  “It is him. I told you!” chirped another.

  “We saw you two nights ago. You were so awesome!”

  I turned toward them. They were both young, maybe just a little older than I was, and pretty. Both were heavily made up and dressed in sandals and sundresses despite the still-cool air.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate that,” Jett said, politely but surprisingly not flirtatiously.

  “Can we get a picture with you?” They giggled.

  And then a completely bizarre thing happened. Jett actually looked at me as if for permission. They now looked pleadingly at me as well. I suddenly felt very bitchy. They were sweet. Whatever issues I had with this man, they deserved a photo with him. His performance was impressive, if you’re into that hyper-risky overly theatrical kind of stuff.

  I smiled at the one closest to me. “I can take it.”

  “Oh, awesome! Thank you!”

  The two girls flanked Jett, and he placed one arm around each of them. They both smiled as if posing with Brad Pitt. When I looked through the cell phone’s camera window, that boyish dimpled grin returned. Again, it sent flashes of heat straight to my nether regions. Shit, why was he having this effect? I felt my hand waver a bit.

  “Let me just take one more,” I said, placing my left hand atop the right—the one with the tremor—to steady it. I concentrated on the women this time, not him, and clicked again. This one was good. No shakes. “Okay, I think that one’s good.” I handed the phone back.

  “It’s awesome! Thank you again!” As they walked away, I overheard their whispers.

  “At first I thought his girlfriend was bitchy, but she was really nice.”

  “It figures he’d be with such a pretty girl.”

  “They’re a cute couple.”

  When I returned my eyes to Jett, it was clear he’d heard their conversation too. His entire face was covered in his cockiest grin yet.

  “Are you in line?” asked a man behind us. He held the hand of a woman. They were a nice middle-aged couple who looked excited about the ride.

  “Come on. It’s going to get busy and the line’s soon going to be snaking all around the hotel. Carpe diem?” Jett extended his arm to me. “I saw the way you were looking at the water. I know you want to. Don’t worry, I promise to let you have your peace.” He smiled, this time sans cockiness. He seemed to have the ability to be genuine.

  “Yes, we are,” Jett said to the man behind us, before I had a chance to respond.

  “Hey, Jett,” the gondolier called out, pulling up. “How’s it going, man?” I should have known they knew each other. Jett probably brought girls here all the time. It was too late to turn back now. The gondolier held his hand out to me. “Miss,” he said with a polite nod. When I saw him from afar I’d thought he was an older Italian man, but now that I saw him up close I realized he was just made up to look that way. Under his fake moustache and greyed hair, the skin of his face was actually quite smooth, like a young man’s. He was probably not past twenty-five.

  Jett wasn’t lying about letting me have my peace. He didn’t encroach on my space and rested his hand on the bench beside me, rather than touching me. We floated through the waterways, passing tourists. The canal-side restaurants were filling up. I looked up at the buildings, made up to look like rustic houses aligning the banks of the canals in the actual Venice. They really had put a lot of work in to making this hotel look authentic.

  There was a man dressed as a clown doing a pantomime performance for a group of onlookers. It reminded me of George Balanchine’s “Harlequinade,” which I’d had a supporting role in before leaving the world of ballet. My thoughts returned to my life with Willem, as they often did. I’d landed an apprenticeship with my dream company, New York City Ballet. Willem was an apprentice too. Things were going well for me. I was getting lots of small roles. But then my mom got cancer. After she passed I had a hard time regaining my ability to focus. Willem helped me get myself back together. The company gave me a reprieve, offering me boarding so long as my aunt in upstate New York acted as my guardian. I improved. But the company didn’t like Willem as well and ended up letting him go. He got a job at a small ballet company in Connecticut. I followed him, and got a job there too. But the way my beloved New York company treated the love of my life made me lose my passion for ballet.

  I saw an advertisement for a ballroom competition. I was curious and talked Willem into going with me. We had a blast. Ballroom dancing was fun and you could make far better money as a teacher than as a ballet dancer in Willem’s company. I was really smitten with the showdance performances. They were a perfect mix of ballet and ballroom. Willem and I trained together and soon we were competing on the open circuit.

  I looked at the children, mesmerized by the performers. Willem and I competed at several international competitions, but we’d never gone to Italy. I wondered what the real Venice was like. I felt tears well in my eyes, but I breathed deeply and blinked the sadness away.

  “Hey, birthday girl!” a female voice called out, making me aware how lost in my thoughts I’d been. My leg twitched and my knee hit Jett’s thigh. He shifted his weight, but still kept his hand next to me on the bench.

  “Ove
r there.” He pointed to his left. I turned to see Lucia and Mandi hanging over the side of one of the balconies waving. “We got a great table for four! Come up when you’re done!” Table for four? Yep, I was right. This had been planned.

  Chapter 4

  Jett

  When Mandi called me late last night and invited me to Arabelle’s birthday party, I really didn’t want to go. It was clear this girl wasn’t into me and was, in fact, annoyed by me. And, as intriguing as I found her, I just wasn’t in to forcing myself on someone who didn’t want me. Again, not to sound obnoxious, but I had a lot of women who did want me. Why would I need that crap? But Mandi begged, insisting it would make Arabelle happy even if she didn’t want to admit it. Mandi said she was trying to recover from something, but wouldn’t tell me what. She really needed companionship. Fine, I thought. I’ll do it for Mandi. Not good to have your main dance partner pissed off at you.

  So it was funny when I actually ran into her this morning without trying. I often walk around the Flamingo early in the morning. It’s so peaceful there, and one of the only times it’s quiet anywhere around the Strip. I was a little surprised when I saw Arabelle asleep. Early as it was, thieves abounded here. With all the unsuspecting tourists, it was a pickpocket’s paradise. And I did spot a guy kind of looking at her quizzically, a greedy look in his eye. I walked over and sat down next to her. I gave him the eye and he sauntered away. Asshole. As soon as he was gone, I got my coffee at the kiosk while watching her, sat back down next to her, and watched the birds. That girl really needed sleep. She snoozed all the way through the initial rush of tourists.

  When she was all lost in her thoughts during the gondola ride, I knew she had a heck of a lot going on inside that pretty head. I knew she needed to think, so I was true to my word and let her have her peace.

  Truth though, even if she came off as a superior ballerina princess up front, I knew there was more to her. Especially when I saw that tremor in her hand. Something serious was going on, and that drew me to her, made me want to know more. Maybe even help her. If she’d let me. So, yeah, even though I knew Arabelle wasn’t that into me, I was happy when Mandi invited me to her birthday lunch.