Valentines for Cinderella

Ray glanced at Jill and Jenn. They paced on the other side of the car, and from their expressions he guessed that they already knew he would take care of everything, but he had to get past Mel to do it. "You never know." Ray said. "It could be something simple that won't cost at all. Let's find out."

*****

"Why did you buy so many groceries?" Mel asked, as she counted the plastic bags arrayed beside Ray's car. Their date was a bust; the four of them ate at a diner and then went shopping for groceries.

"Most everything in the fridge expired while I was in Baton Rouge," Ray said, "And I hoped I was buying for two. And I might not get to the market again until your car is fixed."

Mel lifted her hand and let Ray's car keys dangle from her finger and asked, "You're still sure about this?" Ray didn't need his car to get to work, so he loaned it to Mel.

"I'm sure," Ray answered, "And you're sure you won't come in?"

Mel draped her arms around Ray's neck and pulled herself close. She sniffed at the warm air that rose from inside his jacket, then looked up and said, "Have I told you that we're touring another show next month?"

Ray wasn't sure what that had to do with his invitation, but he shook his head and said, "The program says your next show here is repertoire, but it doesn't say anything about touring. Are you taking that show on tour before you do it here, like you did in October? And then you're doing Cinderella around Valentine's Day?"

"Yes and yes," Mel answered, "But Cinderella is too far off to think about. We start rehearsals for the tour tomorrow then leave for Atlanta just after New Years. With those rehearsals and five more Nutcracker shows to do in the next week, I should go home and rest. Besides, I think I would disappoint you tonight."

Ray couldn't imagine how Mel would disappoint him, but he let that drop. "The holidays are starting to sound bleak," he said. "I'm working. You're going home for Christmas, and then you're leaving again right away."

Mel pushed herself back and looked away. "I warned you about how hard it is almost as soon as we met. You can't count on me to make you happy. I need to go."

Ray watched Mel leave and didn't see her again until Thursday when they got her car. He made an arrangement with the garage. They wrote one invoice that Mel would see and one she wouldn't see. The one she would see was for the fuel filter replacement. The one she wouldn't see was for the diagnostics, the fuel pump, injectors, and seals.

Ray looked over Mel's shoulder while the manager explained the cost, and then had to back up when Mel suddenly stood. "I can actually afford that!" she said, and lifted her check book from her purse.

"Let me take it." Ray said. "It will be my Christmas present."

"I can do this, Ray." Mel insisted, then smiled and added, "You can get me something else for Christmas." She paid the small bill, then rushed to the community center.

Ray sat down once Mel was gone and they went through the large invoice. Ray pointed out a line near the bottom of the page and read aloud, "Fluids and filters, no charge. What's that about?"

"That was a problem," the manager said. He pushed his chair back and produced a filmy bit of fabric—a leotard—from a drawer. He said, "Your girlfriend must be a dancer." No-one had referred to Mel as his girlfriend before, and Ray liked the sound of it.

The manager went on, "There were a lot of old ballet shoes, this and a few other personal items in the car. That's probably why the car smelled so ripe. One of our trainee techs stole this and left it in the men's room."

Ray wrinkled his nose and said, "She might not want that back then."

The manager nodded and dropped the leotard in a waste basket. "I don't know what those things cost," he said, "But we had him do the regular maintenance to balance things out, then we let him go."

"That's too bad," Ray said, "But now I know what to get her for Christmas."

Mel's Christmas present—a leotard that Ray picked out mostly because he wanted to take it off from her—was wrapped and in Ray's pocket while he watched Mel and Julio close out Nutcracker as the Sugarplum Fairy and her cavalier.

The crowd was still shuffling out of the theater when Mel appeared from back stage and tried to get to the lobby. Ray had to hurry to catch her.

"I'm going to make this really quick," Mel said. "I just want to get it over. Go wait for me in the dressing room. Paul is busy buttering up Sofia, so he won't get in your way."

Ray knew by now how to get from the theater to the dressing room. He dodged little girls in costumes as he ran down the stairs, then knocked on the door. "It's Ray" he called, "Mel sent me down."

There was a pause, then Jenn—still in the fairy costume she wore for Waltz of the Flowers—unlatched the door to let Ray in. He dropped onto the sofa and groaned to himself. There were three suitcases lined up beside him. "You guys are all leaving for Christmas right away?" He asked.

"Jenn and I are," Jill said. She turned her back to Jenn, who unfastened the hooks that held Jill's costume together. "Julio is taking us to the airport as soon as we can get ready. We have to hurry to catch my flight then Jenn's is a couple hours later."

"What about Mel?" Ray asked, and waited while Jenn turned her back so that Jill could unhook her bodice. There was a thump on the wall, then a chorus of giggles from the next room.

"I think those girls are tearing the place up," Jenn said, then went on, "You'll have to ask Mel about her plans. I'm not sure what they are." She turned to Jill with her hand holding up the front of her bodice and asked, "Do you know?"

"Mel's plans? No. She hasn't said," Jill answered. She looked at Ray and added, "Would you turn around for a bit?"

Ray turned to the wall and listened to the rustle of tulle and satin until there was a knock on the door, then Mel's voice called, "Let me in guys!"

He opened the door for Mel as a group of laughing girls with dance bags over their shoulders ran up the stairs behind her. She pushed her wide tutu down to fit through the opening then he latched it behind her again. Mel looked at Jenn—now peeling her tights off—and at Jill who was bent over in front of the costume rack. She laughed. "I guess there's no time for modesty."

Jill straightened up and smiled at Ray in the mirror. She told Mel, "Ray has been very polite."

Ray complained, "They made me turn my back."

Mel gave Ray an exaggerated scowl. She pushed him back to sit on the sofa and turned around to block his view of Jenn and Jill. Mel's ruffled butt was in front of Ray, just under the tutu's frill. He touched the inside of her knee then ran his finger tips up until Mel rose on her toes and laughed. She said, "Ray, stop that," then pushed the back of her tutu down and shoved his hand away.

"I never thought ballet costumes were very sexy," Ray said, "Until now."

Ray glanced down at Mel's bag and remembered to ask, "Are you leaving right away, too?" He didn't understand why Mel would have hidden that plan from him. "If you are, then I need to give you your Christmas present now."

Mel waited until Jen and Jill were decent, then she turned around to look at Ray. "Christmas present?" she asked. Ray took the package from inside his jacket and presented it to her.

"Thanks," Mel said. She tore into the wrapping and laughed, "I'm missing one of my leotards, so this is perfect." She knelt with one foot on the sofa next to Ray and bent over him to kiss his forehead.

Ray felt overwhelmed by his bejeweled and slightly sweaty-smelling fairy queen in her cloud of tulle. Her lips traveled from his forehead to his ear, and she whispered as if Jenn and Jill shouldn't hear, "I'm not leaving until Wednesday afternoon. What I do 'till then is up to you."

"That's yours, right?" Ray asked and pointed to her bag. "Why are you packed now?"

Mel's lips brushed his ear while she answered,"I'm packed now so I can stay with you until I leave—if that's alright with you."

Ray felt like he could burst. He struggled to free his hands from Mel's frills and pulled Sugarplum's mouth to his. When he broke their kiss he told her, "That's almost my dream come true! I have to work days, but we'll have the rest of the time."

"If I can sleep in," Mel said. "Then that's almost my dream come true, too." She went soft against Ray's chest and giggled while he nibbled her ear and kissed the salty film off her throat.

"God, guys!" Jenn groaned, "Mel, you know the rule. No sex in the company's costumes. Now we gotta go find Julio."

Mel struggled a little to climb off from Ray. She composed herself and traded kisses with Jill and Jenn to say goodbye, and then she latched the door behind them and turned her back to Ray. "Unhook me please?" she asked.

Ray stood and studied the back of Mel's costume, then started unhooking the row of fasteners down its back. Each that he unhooked loosened the bodice a little more until he got to the waist, then he watched Mel in the mirror as he pushed the straps from her shoulder and let the bodice fall away.

The noise and confusion outside the dressing room had waned and was replaced with muffled conversation and with distant sounds from the stage above them. The excitement backstage calmed but Ray's excitement grew. Mel lifted her breasts for Ray, then while he licked his lips she told him, "You can't get the tutu off me until you finish unhooking it."

Ray looked down again and spread the opening at the back of the tulle frill. The row of hooks continued below the frill and disappeared from sight beneath the curve of Mel's butt. He unfastened all the hooks, then let the costume fall down around her ankles. Ray wrapped one arm around Mel's waist and she laid her head back against his shoulder. He cupped her breast and pinched her nipple in his other hand. He felt her breath quicken while he bent his head to kiss her shoulder and her neck.

A woman pounded on the door and yelled, "Mel! I need your costumes!"

Mel yelled back, "Give me a minute!" then she looked at Ray's reflection in the mirror. "That's Laura, the costume mistress." Mel stepped out of the costume and turned around, "I've got to finish up here. Why don't you stay and watch?"

*****

A Christmas special on TV lit the room and the bedside table was strewn with the remains of their Chinese takeout dinner. Neither of them was quite dressed. Mel had pushed Ray's jacket and shirt off his shoulders and opened his pants, and Ray had tossed her top aside and slipped the shoes off her feet. It was while he peeled her pants and panties down that he saw the bruise on the top of her foot and asked, "What happened?"

"Overworked it." Mel said, and moved her foot to study the injury; it was discolored, a little swollen, and the veins stood out over it. "We're not a union shop, but according to the employee's manual we're supposed to follow union rules anyway. Paul doubled up performances and rehearsals all week, and that was way more than the union rules allow. Most of us have some kind of stress injury now. Some are worse than this."

Ray studied Mel's lithe body by the flickering light then he picked up her foot and asked "Would a little massage help?"

Mel pulled her foot back, "It's sore, Ray. No massage now."

"Then I'll kiss it and make it better," he said. Ray lifted Mel's foot and brushed the bruise with his lips. He kissed her toes, one at a time, then her sole and her ankle, the inside of her knee, and her thigh. He didn't hide his intent, but still Mel caught her breath when Ray pushed his lips to her feminine center. He dragged her hood between his teeth and slipped his tongue about her hardening button. Mel laid back among the pillows and lifted her knees apart to invite Ray's attention.

Mel's scent, her taste, and the way she writhed in his arms when she climaxed all thrilled Ray. The tension flowed out of Mel's body after her orgasm, and Ray climbed over her with excited intent. He fed on her breasts, her throat, and her mouth, and then he thrust himself deep between her legs.

They pleased each other that Sunday night until Mel was exhausted. She slept through Ray's alarm on Monday morning, then again on Tuesday morning. Mel didn't open her eyes until ten then blinked at the light, clutched his pillow under her nose, and drifted to sleep again. She stretched each afternoon then spent the rest of her time reading whatever she found around.

Ray's chest and arms were still pumped from lifting when he got home Tuesday night. He flicked on the kitchen lights then found Mel sitting on a stool in the darkened bedroom, staring out the window at the city lights. She didn't even turn to notice him and his pumped muscles.

"Something's wrong," Ray said. He stepped up behind Mel, laid his hands on her shoulders and watched her reflection in the window. She was dressed in one of his unwashed dress shirts and a pair of boxer shorts that she pinned at the waist so they would stay on.

Mel flinched when he bent to kiss her neck, and it was then he noticed the paper she held on her lap. "Do you want to tell me about this?" she asked, and held the paper up where he could read the heading in the dim light from the kitchen. It was the second invoice from her car repair.

Ray felt a sudden rush of anger. His voice was tense when he asked, "Where did you find that?" He didn't like the idea that Mel went through his papers, but his anger was quickly replaced by regret when he remembered where he left the invoice.

"It fell out of a book I was reading," Mel said. "Ray, this is ten times what I thought the car cost. Why did you trick me?"

"Because I didn't want you to get upset and I didn't want you to take on that bill," Ray answered. He put his hands on Mel's hips and turned her around to look at him. "That afternoon after you left, the guy at the garage called you my girlfriend. I liked how that sounded. That's what I want, Mel. I want you to be my girlfriend, and I want to be able to give you gifts without you getting mad or suspicious."

"I was mad at first because you tricked me," Mel said, "But not for very long. Then I was mad because you stole my independence, and that lasted a little longer.

"I've been sitting here and thinking. Look at me, Ray. I sleep on your pillow when you leave. I'm wearing your shirt and even your underwear."

Mel let the invoice slip to the floor and waved her hands in the air. "I was smug and selfish," she said. "Hell, when I asked to stay with you 'till I leave it wasn't so much for us, it was for me. I told myself that it would be a good way to rest and relax for a few days at your expense, and that's all it was.

"I lied to myself, Ray. First you made me interested in you then you made me comfortable with you then you made me trust you and depend on you, and now I don't want to be without you."

Mel's eyes searched Ray's face before she went on, "Ray, I am your girlfriend, and that scares me."

Ray didn't let Mel go on. He caught her arms and put them around his neck, and then he covered her mouth with his. Mel caught her breath and lifted her legs around Ray's waist. He picked her up off the stool and held her. Were her lips softer? Was her tongue more exciting? Ray wasn't sure, but he knew that her perfect body wrapped his and that her breath on his cheek burned with excitement.

Mel broke their kiss. She touched Ray's arms, looked down at his chest, and said, "God Ray, you're huge!" She lifted her eyes to his and smiled in the dark. She whispered, "Lay me right now, and we can worry about dinner later."

6.

"Your ballerina must really be something," Angela said. She looked Ray up and down. Her office door closed behind him with a solid click then she stepped close and squeezed his bicep. "Yep, you had ten years to do that for me. It was never going to happen. But you didn't come here to show off, did you? Where have you been?"

Ray sniffed at Angela's perfumed scent while he guided her across the small office to her chair. He answered, "Since the last time I saw you I've spent too much time in Baton Rouge, and I just got back from Austin." Ray dropped into the guest chair in front of Angela's desk and crossed his legs while she moved some papers into a drawer. He said, "I didn't come here to show off. I need an introduction."

Angela wasn't very good at sitting still. With the papers put away, she stood and leaned over a credenza and looked out the window at the snowy mid-January street scene below. "Baton Rouge and Austin are both nice places. I probably wouldn't complain." She turned back to Ray and was nearly silhouetted against the window when she went on, "Tell me about the introduction. Personal or professional?"

"More personal," Ray said. "I think your firm represents the Community Foundation. At least, that's what it says on their website and on yours."

"The Community Foundation?" Angela looked briefly puzzled. "Oh, that's Pamela Hardy. Yeah, she's a pro bono client. She's one of the most giving people I know, and that isn't always a great trait for a foundation director. She fights with her Board a lot.

"That's a small fund. What do you need from her?"

"This is about Franklin Ballet," Ray said. He straightened his back and moved to sit up more comfortably straight. "The fund's grants are too small to be much interest to the ballet company. Franklin Ballet's budget is in the range of two or three million a year. but even a little from the Community Foundation could have a huge cascading effect. The company exec has been working on a big grant from the Hillson Endowment, and that grant hinges on having a record of community service and support. At least recently, they don't have that record.

"Mel—my ballerina—does volunteer work at a couple community centers without any support from Franklin Ballet. I still need to work out details with the company's exec, but if I can get a small grant from the Community Foundation to Franklin Ballet to support Mel's work and maybe expand it..."

Angela interrupted, "I see where you're going. Maybe a thousand from Pamela now could mean a million for the ballet company. How do you want to do it? The introduction, I mean."

"It could eventually be more than three million a year," Ray said. "Can you arrange a time when I can take you and Pamela to lunch?"

Angela walked around the desk to stand in front of Ray and sat casually on the edge. She said, "I could ask, 'what's in it for me?'" Angela had curves where Mel had lines, but she wore her business suit well. Her blond hair curved under at her collar, her breasts filled her jacket, and her legs—sheathed in smooth nylon—stretched below the hem of the skirt. Ray couldn't help but remember that sex with Angela could be very good.

"As good as you look right now, I'm still only offering lunch and asking for a favor," Ray said. He studied Angela's expression and like usual he couldn't read her. "Our normal trade isn't going to work. Mel warns me all the time about how hard it'll be to keep our relationship up. Maybe a distraction would be too much."

"I think I need to meet her," Angela said. "Does she know about us?"

Ray laughed and said, "She found one of your romance novels under the bed—you know, with your name in it. She knows about you and about us. You'll meet her—you have to."

"It's great that you found someone—and a reader, too—but I'm disappointed," Angela said. She stood up from the edge of the desk and squeezed Ray's shoulder. "I'd like to find out what I'm missing, but maybe I never will. It looks like you finally grew up enough to care about someone besides yourself.

"I'll make an arrangement with Pamela. What's a good time for you?"

"As soon as possible," Ray said. He put both feet on the floor and sat forward with his elbows on his knees to check his calendar. "I can fit my schedule around lunch any day this week but Thursday. Next week I'm socked in."