“I’m Susan,” one of the dancers called.
Susan’s mouth dropped open momentarily before she snapped it shut. The blast of camera flashes made white light dance in front of her eyes.
Another dancer stepped forward. “I’m Susan.”
Susan kept dancing until the next quiet point in the music. “I’m Susan.”
This time the crowd roared and the photographers went crazy. By the time the dance ended, each one of the dancers had confessed they were Susan.
They ran off stage and into the privacy of the changing room, giggling like a group of schoolgirls.
Julia and Christina appeared and silence fell in the changing room.
“I’m going to call that routineThe Dance of the Susansfrom now on.” Julia grinned and everyone relaxed. “That was brilliant. I’m going to kick out the photographers now and let our genuine customers into the club. Great job, ladies.”
“Let’s wear our masks for the entire night,” one of the dancers said. “I want to be Susan tonight.”
“Yeah, during the audience mingle I’m going to tell everyone my name is Susan,” another dancer said.
“Whatever floats your boat,” Susan said. “Bear in mind, they’ll kid you about flashing your ass on public television.”
“Don’t forget Mr. Blue,” another dancer said with a giggle.
Will the real Susan step forward?Tyler grinned as he read the story headline in the paper on Thursday morning. Despite the underlying pain that bit like an electrical shock every time he thought about her—which was often—he couldn’t help liking her friends for standing up to the press. No wonder she wanted to stay in the city. A sense of longing crept into his mind—the idea of continuing his studies in art. Even part time.
He sighed.
Not possible, so he shouldn’t even think about the unattainable.
“You’re up early,” Josie said.
Tyler shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Susan?”
“Yeah,” he admitted finally.
Eric shambled into the kitchen, looking as if he needed another hour of sleep. “Why is everyone up so early? Is there tea?”
“You should go to Auckland,” Josie said.
“I can’t stay in Auckland,” Tyler replied. “I have responsibilities here.” And even though his conscience told him he wasn’t being fair, a tiny voice in his head declared Susan didn’t love him enough to give up her life in Auckland.
“Eric and I were talking,” Josie said.
“Which is why I look like something the cat dragged in from down at the creek,” Eric muttered. “Please, woman. Let me have some tea before we start this conversation.”
“Have you changed your mind?” Josie asked, her sharp tone making Tyler stare.
“Not on your life,” Eric said. “But I need caffeine in some form to make my brain cells fire.”
Tyler walked to the cupboard and pulled out two clean mugs. He poured tea for both Eric and Josie and handed the mugs over after adding milk and sugar. Curiosity nudged aside his continuous loop of Susan memories.
“Ah,” Eric said with a satisfied groan. “Good brew.”
“Can we tell him now?” Josie demanded.
Tyler stared at his mother-in-law. Excitement tinged her cheeks, and she danced from foot to foot, looking as if she might have itching powder in her slippers.
