She saw the pride in his eyes, and her heart melted just a little bit. “What a wonderful profession. I’m sure she loves it.”
“She does. Though she was disappointed to have two sons who would rather be outside playing football and baseball than becoming the next Baryshnikov.”
“How sad for her.”
“She made up for it by having our little sister, who was forced to endure all the dance lessons.”
Tara laughed. “She didn’t want them either?”
“Oh, she put up with them as a kid, but she would have rather been outside being tackled by my brother and me. She’s pretty tough.”
Tara leaned forward and laid her elbows on the table. “Sounds like you have an amazing family.”
“I do. What about yours?”
Now there was a topic she didn’t want to get into. “Oh, nothing at all like yours.”
“Tell me about them.”
Yeah, that would send him running in a hurry. “My family just isn’t hearth and home like yours seems to be.”
He laughed and placed his hand over hers. “Not everyone’s is, honey. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to know about your life.”
Really, he didn’t want to know about her life and the screwed-up mess that was her family. Fortunately, the caterer took that moment to beep in with a problem. She placed her hand at her ear and stood. “I need to go.”
“Some emergency?”
“Yes. Thank you for the dance. It was a lovely break.”
“Come back after you see to whatever crisis you have to deal with.”
“Surely by then you’ll have found some other female to hang out with.”
He leaned back in his chair and picked up a glass of water, the look he gave her sending goose bumps down her arms. “No, I won’t. I’ll wait for you.”
She hurried off, warmed to her toes by Mick Riley. He would be a dangerous man to get to know better. But he intrigued her, and it had been a long time since any man had done that.
Unfortunately, it was hours later before she freed herself again. The caterers had run out of one of the meats, the head bartender had a meltdown about a waitress who decided at the last minute to have a fight with her boyfriend via text message and storm out in tears, and Tara had to make a couple frantic phone calls to get every ruffled feather smoothed. By the time all that had been dealt with, she’d had to make a once-around again to make sure no other brush fires had erupted.
The party had mellowed out by then. Many people had left, and only a few diehards remained. But Mr. Stokes’s personal assistant had stopped her and told her that Mr. Stokes was very pleased with the party, and he would likely use her company again. She resisted the squeal that hovered at the back of her throat, calmly thanked him, and said she’d be happy to provide event services at any time. Hopefully he’d recommend her to others. She needed her business to grow.
Another couple hours, and everyone was out the door. Tara made sure the band packed up, and she thanked them, as well as the bar staff and the caterers, for doing such a great job.
Once everyone left, she looked around the empty ballroom, unable to resist a smile. She’d done it. Her first major event, and she’d pulled it off perfectly.
Her feet were aching. She fell into the nearest chair, kicked off her shoes, and twisted open the top on the mineral water she’d snatched from the bar before they’d closed up. She took a long drink and sighed.
“I thought they’d never leave.”
She jerked upright in her chair, half turning to see Mick walking past the rows of empty tables. “I thought you’d left hours ago.”
He pulled out a chair across from her and sat, surprising the hell out of her by grabbing her legs and propping her feet on his lap. “Me and a couple of the offensive linemen ended up in coach’s room for a couple hours, rehashing the last season.”
“Oh. And how did that go?”
He lifted one of her feet and began rubbing the arch. She bit her lip to keep from moaning at how damn good it felt.
“We ended up blaming the division championship loss on the defense.”
She laughed. “How convenient.”
He shrugged. “The defense was probably in the defensive coordinator’s room blaming it on us, so why not?”
She wanted to tell him she’d missed him, that she’d sort of casually looked for him while she was wandering around the ballroom, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit that out loud. It sounded too desperate. She barely knew him.
Then again, her feet were in his lap and he was giving her a delicious foot rub that made her ni**les tingle and her panties dampen. What did that say about her?
What it said was that California wasn’t the only place that had been in a drought for the past several years. And she was alone in a massive ballroom with one very sexy man with amazing hands. She wondered what else he could do with those amazing hands.
“You don’t have to rub my feet.”
“I saw you wince when you kicked your shoes off. And heard you sigh.”
“It’s been a long night on very high heels,” she said with a laugh. “I freely admit I’m more of a blue jeans and flats kind of girl.”
He cocked his head to the side. “I could definitely see you that way. I’m more of the same way myself.”
“Blue jeans and flats?”
He laughed. “Uh, no. But this tux is killing me.” He loosened the bow tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons, then shrugged out of his jacket. “That’s a little better.”
“If you’re going to start stripping, maybe you should head on home,” she teased.
“Why? Never seen a man naked before?”
She choked out a laugh. “No, that’s not it. But I don’t think this oversized mausoleum of a ballroom is going to offer you the privacy to take off everything you want to take off.”
“And how do you know how much I want to take off?”
She dropped her chin to her chest and shook her head. “I’m digging the hole deeper and deeper, aren’t I?”
“Is there someplace you have to be right now?”
Her head shot up, her gaze meeting his. “No. Why?”
“Come with me.” He laid her feet on the ground, bent over and retrieved her shoes, then grabbed his coat and slung it over his arm.