Chapter 18 #2
That dress. Sweet Jesus, that dress wasn’t fair.
He shouldn’t be expected to stand in the same room as Ivy when she was in that dress, when all that soft, smooth skin was reflecting the warm candlelight around them.
When he couldn’t ghost his fingers from the nape of her neck all the way down her spine the way he desperately wanted to.
It wasn’t fair to make him circulate around this party, making polite small talk with everyone who mattered in the New York ballet scene, when all he wanted to do was press Ivy up against the nearest wall and get her out of that dress.
She broke his gaze and turned back to the bar, almost as if she’d heard his thoughts.
He wouldn’t be surprised if she had; surely his desire for her, his need to be near her, was written all over his face.
The thought made him move from where he was standing, rooted to the spot near the entrance to the party—if he stayed there much longer just staring, he’d start attracting attention.
He accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and tried to keep his eyes on Ivy even as party guests stopped him to introduce themselves and congratulate him on the run.
For fifteen minutes that felt like an hour, he nodded and smiled graciously.
As much as he wanted to grab Ivy’s hand and drag her out of here, he was still on the clock.
This was a fancy party, but it was work, and Peter wouldn’t be pleased if Justin neglected his professional obligation to chat and charm these people, so that next time the company came back it would be to an even better reception.
Finally, there was a break in conversation, and he excused himself to get another drink.
Instead of heading for the bar, though, he made a beeline for Ivy, who was standing with Alice and Izzy, and Carly Montgomery, who’d been Heather’s maid of honor and had taken class with the company a few times when she visited Sydney.
“Justin!” Carly called over Ivy’s head, and he saw Ivy’s back stiffen.
That dress didn’t hide a damn thing. Carly waved him over, and he joined their little circle, standing next to Ivy but avoiding her eyes.
Was he imagining it, or could he feel the heat radiating from her body?
From all that exposed skin? He willed himself to keep a professional distance between them, even though it was taking all his self-control not to stand close enough to smell her perfume.
Carly gave him a quick hug, then released him. “How’s it going, Rocky?”
“You saw that, did you?” he muttered.
“Everyone saw it,” Carly said with a rueful smile. “But I think you danced well enough tonight to make them all forget what they saw.”
“I reckon the surprise finale had something to do with that, too. Congratulations again,” he said, nodding at the happy couple. If Izzy smiled any wider she’d hurt herself.
“Alice and Izzy just told us the best part of this whole plot—even I didn’t know,” Carly said.
Justin looked questioningly at Alice, who rubbed her hands together gleefully. “We’re not flying back with you all tomorrow.”
“You’re staying here for a bit?” Justin asked.
“Better! We’re going to Vegas! We’re getting hitched at the Little White Chapel, with a fake Elvis and everything!”
“That sounds…” Well, it didn’t sound like how he’d want to get married, not that he’d spent much time imagining his own wedding. But it sounded very Alice. “That sounds perfect. Nicely done, Izzy.”
“Well thank you,” Izzy said, in a low, rumbly voice. “Thank you very much.”
Justin laughed as Alice put one hand on her hip, raised the other hand, and swiveled her body in her best Elvis impression.
“To Vegas, baby!” Izzy said in her normal voice, raising her glass and a long drag of champagne, and Carly whooped as she and Ivy lifted their own glasses and clinked them against Izzy’s.
A minute later, Alice and Izzy were deep in conversation with Carly about their plans for Vegas, which led to Alice was explaining her parents would insist on throwing them a “proper” wedding when they got home, and then to Carly commiserating about parents who had strong ideas about how daughters ought to comport themselves.
All the while, Justin stood next to Ivy, that foot-and-a-half of professional distance between them.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was happy for Alice and Izzy, and he was proud of the company, but could not stand here another second next to Ivy Page in her torture dress without putting his hands on her.
He faked a wide yawn. “I think I need to call it a night soon,” he said to her, professional as could be.
She looked up at him, and he didn’t miss the way her eyes swept up and down his body, lingering at his throat, where he hadn’t bothered to put on a tie. Effortlessly chic, Matty had called the look down in the dressing room. One less thing for Ivy to take off chic, Justin had thought.
“It’s a little early to leave still,” Ivy said, glancing around at the other women, and at the gathered ballet luminaries. “You’re really that tired?”
Justin yawned again, wider this time, but still fake. He closed his eyes and really hammed it up. Then he opened them and met Ivy’s gaze.
“No,” he said pointedly.
She bit her lip, understanding dawning, and he smothered a grin.
“Well, if you’re tired, we should get you back to the hotel,” she said briskly. Professionally. “It’s been a long week, and we’ve got a big travel day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Justin agreed, not taking his eyes off her face. “Best if we get an early night.”
“I’ll get our coats and meet you at the exit,” Ivy nodded. She gave Carly a wave, congratulated Alice and Izzy again, and hurried away.
Keeping his face impassive, as if he didn’t want to sprint after her and hurl himself into a cab, he tapped Alice on the shoulder. “I’m heading out,” he said.
“You too?” She and Izzy looked surprised. Carly raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
“Yeah, I’m knackered. But have a great shotgun wedding, say hi to Elvis for me, and I’ll see you both when you get back to Sydney.”
Alice threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly. “Really proud of you, friend. There’s no one else I’d want to take New York by storm with.”
Touched, Justin squeezed her back. He and Alice had always been friendly, but never close.
He’d always kept his circle of friends small, in the company and in life—he had his people, and he didn’t need anyone else.
But between their shared nerves and her worries about Izzy, and their thrilling triumph on stage, something had shifted on this trip.
“I’m proud of you, too,” he said to the crown of her head.
Alice disentangled herself, and her hand found Izzy’s again. Justin turned to Carly.
“Good seeing you again,” he said, and she gave him a knowing smile.
“But you’ve got somewhere more exciting to be.” It wasn’t a question. She looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the coat check, then looked back at him, her smile wider now. “And someone more exciting to be there with.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied.
Carly snorted. “I know a woman who’s head over heels when I see one, but okay.”
“She’s—we’re—” Justin shot a furtive glance at Alice and Izzy.
“Justin, it’s fine. I won’t say anything you don’t want me to say. And if anyone asks, I’ll tell them you went home because you’re very, very tired.” She winked, and he gave her a grateful smile.
“Thanks, I appreciate your discretion.” He wanted to say more. Head over heels? How could she be so sure of that? And if Carly had seen that on Ivy’s face, what had she seen on his? He decided to leave before he could blurt any of that out. Ivy was waiting for him.