Day 128: Not the subtlest way to approach a lady

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 128: Not the subtlest way to approach a lady

Where it comes to love, every living being has a different approach to getting themselves noticed. Some people have a bold and confident approach while others prefer something more discreet.

In the animal world, it’s not much different. Some birds will sing their little hearts out to get the feathered apple of their eye to glance their way, mammals will strut their stuff in the hope that the love of their life will agree to a date, while fishes will even change color to make themselves more attractive.

As for cats … they have their own mating ritual. Many, many years ago we had a cat called Mona. When the time came for her to choose a mate (this was before spaying became necessary) several handsome male cats would come strolling into our yard. Mona would give them the cold shoulder or worse, hiss at them.

That is until one particular cat made an appearance and then Mona would go all gaga over him. She would visibly perk up at the sight of this cat, walk up to him with her tail held high, followed by lots of rolling around on the patio.

Nowadays, responsible pet owners have their pets spayed or neutered, and even though that controls the pet population, it would seem that female cats can still fall in love.

Take Halley for instance. When she was adopted from a Toronto Cat Rescue foster mother in January of this year, she instantly bonded with Charlotte, one of our resident cats. They would sleep together, eat together, and play together whether Charlotte was in the mood or not. Where you saw Charlotte, you saw Halley; where you saw Halley, you saw Charlotte.

The months passed and while Halley is still rather fond of Charlotte it seems that she transferred some of her affections to Gabriel. The reason is rather obvious. When Halley joined our family, she was a three-month-old baby and she was looking for a mama figure in our household. Now that she’s grown into a young lady, she’s developed an interest in boys and has fallen head over heels in love with the only boy in our house ... Gabriel. Of course, the path to true love is never easy and while Halley is a pretty young thing, a big strapping young lad as Gabriel is, he’s playing hard to get.

When Halley follows him around, making soft purring noises, he acts like he doesn’t hear or see her. When she wants to curl up with him, he moves. When she wants to rub noses, he will indulge her for a few seconds and then hiss or walk away. Halley is not easily discouraged though, I can tell by her attitude and persistence that she’s going to get her man, no matter how many times he gives her the cold shoulder or sends her the message that he's not interested.

However, in all fairness to Gabriel, and before you feel sorry for Halley, he did approach her once or twice to sniff her rear end and she was having none of it. As I told Gabriel afterward … not the subtlest way to approach a lady.

Where this love affair is going remains a mystery though, Gabriel being neutered and Halley being spayed. If it's not lust, it must be love, true love.

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Day 86: How to survive Valentine’s Day

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 86: How to survive Valentine’s Day

Tomorrow is Valentine’s day and whether you just broke up with someone, or you haven’t met that special someone yet, Valentine’s Day can have the same effect on you as a red flag has on a bull.  February 14^th is like a flashing beacon on your calendar, mocking you, reminding you that you will spend the most romantic day of the year alone.

In case you’re feeling a little gloomy, it is time for action.  Sitting alone in your apartment, playing ‘Crying’ by Roy Orbison or ‘I Will Remember You’ by Sarah McLachlan, is not going to cheer you up, you need to go out and spoil yourself a bit.

First stop, the florist. Buy yourself the prettiest bunch of flowers you can find, to be arranged later in a nice vase. If cut flowers do not appeal to you, how about a posy? Something with yellow daisies is just the thing to cheer you up.

Next stop, the bookstore. Whether you like romance novels or a good murder mystery, take your time browsing the shelves and get that book you are looking forward to reading.

Final stop, the chocolatier. Forget your diet for a day and pick up some pralines. Select whatever you fancy, chocolates are great to chase to blues away.

Back home take a relaxing bath or shower and put on something comfortable and order take-outs. Whether it is pizza, Chinese or Greek, it is bound to be delicious.

After dinner make yourself a cup of coffee or tea, curl up on the sofa with your new book and keep those chocolates within reach.

In case being alone does not appeal to you, call a friend or two and have a night in.  Nothing is more fun than time with your friends.

If you do not want to stay at home, you can go to your favorite restaurant (alone or with a friend) and afterward go to the cinema, the theatre or even a sporting event.

How to survive Valentine’s Day alone is all up to you.  Don’t sit around waiting for some guy or gal to make you happy with a gift, give yourself a little something.  Today you are celebrating your independence.

Do you need more convincing … just listen to your married friends. They complain about their partner, their children and how they miss their freedom. They envy you. You can do anything, anytime, anywhere. So what are you waiting for? Go for it!

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Day 50: Why shacking up before you get married is a good idea

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 50: Why shacking up before you get married is a good idea

Couples are more reluctant than ever about getting married.  Whether they are crazy in love or just seem right for each other, saying those wedding vows that will bind them to each other for life is a risk fewer couples are willing to take.  Couples offer the following reasons for why shacking up before you get married is a good idea.

You don’t really know someone until you live with them

Dating someone a few times a week with an occasional sleep-over may give you an idea of their personality, but it doesn’t show you what they are like on a day to day basis.  

Little things make a difference

When you live with someone 24/7, you get to experience firsthand how the person handles stress, disappointment, anger, and life in general.  For some those little flaws might be endearing, while for others they could become major obstacles.

Avoid taking each other for granted

Others prefer shacking up before marriage because it keeps both partners on their toes.  Once married a lot of men and women feel they have it made and overnight develop a careless attitude. They relax to the point that their partner no longer recognizes the person they dated. They may quit their job, put on weight, or generally no longer take care of themselves. By living together, especially in the early stages, there is always the chance of the other calling it quits. That percentage of danger keeps the relationship fresher.

Children and family in the mix

If one or both partners have children, shacking up before you get married is a good idea. The adults may love each other, but can they tolerate each other’s offspring? It worked for the Brady bunch, but it may not work for you if the kids don’t get along which, in turn, puts stress on your relationship.

The same could apply to extended family members.  You and your partner may get along perfectly, but inconsiderate parents and difficult siblings could sour the deal. 

Sexual compatibility

You might love each other dearly, but are you sexually compatible? While you may have tested the waters already, dating sex and relationship sex are two different things. Your partner’s needs may be different from yours over the long haul or you may discover some unusual requests which you may or may not like. 

Maintaining a healthy and compatible sex life over the long-term becomes a challenge for all couples. Shacking up before you get married can be a good barometer of how your sex life will mature if you remain together.

Financial compatibility

Why shacking up before you get married is a good idea also applies to whether or not the couple is financially compatible. She may love to shop and be addicted to shoe shopping, while he may be hardcore thrifty. When you live with someone it becomes more difficult for them to hide their money habits.

Lower exit costs if the relationship fails

Probably the biggest reason why shaking up before you get married is so popular is because if the relationship doesn’t work out, no divorce is needed. With no lawyers or alimony in the mix, the couple can walk away with a clean slate without spilling as much financial or emotional blood that usually happens during a divorce. 

Most people don’t buy a car without taking it for a test drive first. Before making a legal and spiritual commitment to another person, many couples today are opting to go slow and take that all-important test drive first.

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Day 32: Can a marriage survive an affair?

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 32: Can a Marriage Survive an Affair?

Of all wedding vows, the vow to forsake all others is often the one most married couples have difficulty with.  By the time a couple reaches their silver anniversary, 50 percent of women and 60 percent of men will have had an affair.  Can a marriage survive an affair?  Much will depend on the state of the marriage before and after the occurrence.

Why start an affair?

Contrary to popular belief, the reason men and women start affairs is not sexual but rather emotional.  The majority of men and women cheat on their partners because they feel neglected by their spouse.  Some feel they’ve grown apart and lack an emotional connection, others feel no longer wanted, taken for granted, or misunderstood.

Who is to blame?

Apart from physical abuse, men and women might go looking for love elsewhere because they are no longer willing to put up with the situation at home.

Some husbands, who were attentive to their wives in the early years of marriage might have lost interest in their spouse.  They spend more and more time at work, with their friends, at a sports club or in front of the television.  When they are around, they criticize their wives and lack appreciation for what she does.

Some wives have lost interest in themselves.  At the start of the marriage, they might have made an effort to look beautiful for their husbands, but over the years they let themselves go.  They feel harassed by their job, the amount of housework and the number of children, and don’t have time for their husbands anymore.  When he is around they nag and complain.

Can a marriage survive an affair?

While the spouses might still love each other after an affair, the foundation of their marriage has crumbled.  An affair might be forgiven, but the trust between two people is broken.  If the couple decides to stay together it might take years before that trust http://www.lifescript.com/life/relationships/wreckage/building_trust_in_a_relationship_again.aspx is re-earned. 

  

Life after an affair

After the anger is gone, spouses often suffer from humiliation, poor self-esteem, guilt, and depression.  Most couples split up after an affair, not because they can’t forgive, but because they can’t forget.  The mental image of the one they love with another man or woman haunts them.  They might forever wonder if given the chance if the spouse might stray again.

Does counseling help?

Couples who want to stay together might find counseling helpful.  Not only will they get the guidance to deal with the aftermath of the affair, they will get a chance to dig deep into their history and possibly uncover the reason why the affair started.  Through counseling, the couple will communicate, deal with the past, focus on the present and possibly make plans for the future.

Can a marriage survive an affair?  Some can forgive and forget, for others, the breach of trust is a fatal blow.  What took years to build was destroyed in seconds.

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Day 20: Missed Connections – Looking for love in all the wrong places

Day 20: Missed Connections – Looking for love in all the wrong places

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 20: Missed Connections – Go to Craigslist and click on the ‘Missed Connections’ section

There are an awful lot of lonely people out there and they go looking for love in all the wrong places. One of them, Craigslist.

Not only are there sections for men seeking women, women seeking men, men seeking men, and women seeking women, there is also a category called missed connections for people who met but failed to connect.

It’s mainly men who post there and just about all of them start their message with ‘I know this is a long shot but ...’ Then they go on describing a chance encounter that happened today, a week ago, or in the past. I wonder if any of them ever had any success finding the girl they were looking for.

Of course, not everyone is looking for love, some of them are downright creepy. Take this guy for instance ...

Hi Sweetie,

I do see you every morning waking up and getting ready for work. I love to see you naked before and after a shower. I know you have a boyfriend as I catch you sometimes having sex. I would love to see that blonde body someday. Your pink underwear and the way you look at yourself in the mirror or fixing your bed.

A word of advice to this girl ... close your curtains.

And how about this one ...

Long shot ...

The bus was crowded you were right behind me and your bulge rubbed against my ass a few times. It was so hot. Had a boner the entire morning. Saw you on the subway too. You were wearing light color pants I think linen. 

Yeah, there's a guy you want to meet. (Sarcastic)

I’m so glad I’m no longer on the dating scene. I’m happily divorced and it’s going to stay that way. I wouldn’t hook up with another guy if a knife was held to my throat.

When I mention my dating experiences, I’m invariably sniggered at with the comment ‘In your days, things were different.’ Yes, they were, and in my opinion, they were a lot better.

There were no dating sites, no emails, no chat messages, and no cellphones for that matter. On Saturday and Sunday night we dressed up and went to a disco or a bar. When we saw a guy, we liked, we made it clear with eye contact and if he was interested he would come over. We talked, we danced and we made plans to see each other again.

If things worked out it was the beginning of a short or long-term relationship. If it didn’t, we either stayed friends or never wanted to see each other again.

Yet with all the dating sites and modern technology, people find it harder now than then to connect with someone. 

Almost every week there’s an article in some magazine how to find men, how to find women, how to attract the perfect partner, etc.

I talked to a guy the other day and he too complained that he couldn't find a girlfriend. I wondered how such a thing is possible, women are everywhere. They are at coffee shops and restaurants, gyms, bookstores, there are even women who hang out at DIY stores with the sole purpose of meeting a man. So how could he not find anyone?

Shyness he said. He’s been shot down a few times and now his confidence is damaged. For goodness sake, are women that threatening? If a guy approaches a woman and she’s not interested, she’ll simply say so. She’s not going to bite and devour a man on the spot.

As someone who has been there and done that, I’d say, take a chance and talk to a woman. She might just say yes.

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Day 2: The unrequited love poem

It’s only the second day of this writing project and I’ve hit a snag already. Today's exercise being:
The unrequited love poem. How do you feel when you love someone who does not love you back.

Writing a poem about unrequited love … that’s not gonna work. Not that I can’t write a poem, I can rhyme with the best of them, but writing about love … no, that doesn’t suit me at all. I don’t believe in love.

People may love each other when they first meet, and love each other again when they’re in their golden years, but the years in-between can be hell on wheels. Why else would the divorce rate stand at over 50%?

I’m probably so cynical because I was married. We had a wonderful wedding and a romantic honeymoon, but 18 years later we had an even more wonderful divorce.

I sometimes wonder if men and women really suit each other. I mean, think about it. When two people meet and fall in love, they want to spend all their time together. No sooner are they married or everything changes. Maybe not in the first year, maybe not in the second, but eventually.

Men will start to pull on the reigns and want to spend time with their friends. They’ll want to go to sports events with their buddies, they want to go drinking with them, or do something else that takes him away from home. Maybe they’ll get lucky and meet someone who is after some casual adult fun. All too often I hear men refer to their wives as ‘The old ball and chain.’

Women are no better. They want to go shopping with their girlfriends, have lunches here and there, go to spas, go clubbing, and generally have a good time. Going shopping with a man is no fun, they just don’t have the interest to admire shoes, rifle through lipsticks, or try different perfumes. And yes, of course, there are those ladies who wouldn’t mind a bit of casual adult fun too.

So why get married in the first place? What drives people to bind themselves to others? Do they really think that a ceremony will make the other person stay ‘until death do them part’? Of course not. If the relationship is good, a man or a woman will stay, if the relationship goes south, they will leave. A marriage certificate isn’t going to change that.

Sometimes I wonder why people are so keen to get married anyway. I can understand why a man wants to get married, once he has a wife he no longer has to go looking for sex or pay for it, but it’s quite a bit different for a woman. Unless the couple can afford outside help, once married a whole heap of responsibilities land onto a woman’s shoulders: cleaning the house, doing the shopping, cooking the meals, washing and pressing clothes, and 101 other things. Then when the kids come along, her responsibilities double or even triple.

No, I don’t understand this keenness on finding a man and entering into marriage. I’ve been there and done that and I can say one thing for very, very sure … NEVER AGAIN!!! So if you’re waiting for an unrequited love poem … you’ll wait a long, long time.

Love the Bright Foreigner - Book Review

 The story starts off alright. Ann Grange is suddenly widowed and her whole world falls apart.

After a year of grieving, and with the help of a friend, she returns to the land of the living and does so with determination. She opts for a new hairdo, new makeup and new clothes.

Thanks to her new look comes a new found confidence. A confidence that makes her an independent woman, rather than the pathetic sidekick she was when her husband was alive.

In a museum she meets Alex, a Greek, who sweeps her off her feet.

If Burgh wanted to sketch Alex as appealing, she failed horribly. Right from that first meeting, it’s clear that Alex is an asshole. It’s his way or the highway. Still, Ann (who he insists on calling Anna) falls for his charms hook, line and sinker.

A whirlwind romance follows, during which Alex reveals himself as not only an asshole, but an asshole with a temper.

At this point I started to wonder what Ann sees in him. He’s self-centered, super arrogant, flies off the handle when he encounters resistance, and unreasonably possessive.

To be fair to him, he knows that he’s an asshole, that he’s self-centered, arrogant, and possessive. And while he’s insanely jealous, he admits that she doesn’t have to expect fidelity from him. He will continue to sleep around if it suits him.

Once again I started to wonder just how tolerant Ann is. What woman would agree to have her man on the loose like a dog in heat, while he practically has her on a leash?

I also wondered if his money had anything to do with it. She states that money is not important, but Ann went from being rich to being VERY rich. Would she have felt the same if her beloved was a bank teller, an accountant or an insurance salesman with an average salary?

The story went horribly wrong about halfway in the book where Burch makes a colossal mistake. 

When Ann complains to her 27-year-old daughter Fay that Alex is too dominating, Fay boldly states that all women secretly want to be dominated.

Really? All women want to be dominated? This certainly was news to me. I for one most certainly do not want to be dominated and I know quite a few women who feel the same.

Very strange for Fay to make such a statement, as she is a successful business woman herself. Makes you wonder if a dominating male had to say to her “Quit your career and stay home to clean my house, cook my meals and polish my shoes” how such an order would have been greeted.

Next big surprise, after the wedding, Ann finds herself pregnant. This was really the straw that broke the camel’s back. This woman is in her 40s, her twin children are 27 and now she’s expecting a baby! Has the woman ever heard of birth control? At her age it’s just plain stupid to get knocked up.

All in all, a disappointing book. It made me wonder where the Anita Burgh was who defended women’s rights and gay rights in “The Broken Gate” and “The Heart’s Citadel”. Since her book “Lottery” was also a disappointment, I’ll think twice before buying another book from Burgh.

Eat, Pray, Shove

After seeing the movie “Eat, Pray, Love” (a few times), I got curious about the book.

Some told me it was good, but not as good as the movie, some said the book was a disappointment, while others still loved the movie but downright hated the book.

With so many different opinions, I wanted to compare for myself.

The first thing I noticed was that Liz’s four months in Italy seemed weak. Having a thorough knowledge of Italy, in particular of Rome and Naples, I found the writer’s description of the cities amateurish. Almost as if she had researched the cities online, rather than actually spending time there.

Her description of the ashram and her spiritual journey in India I found fascinating, although it bothered me that she continuously grieved over her failed marriage. 

As a happily divorced woman myself, I can understand that she mourned lost love when she first separated from her husband, but she divorced the guy for heaven sake. If she loved him that much, she should have stayed with him. 

Still, I continued reading. That is until I got to the deep meditation part. I found it a little hard to swallow that Liz’s one and a half hour of pray singing every morning at the crack of dawn helped her nephew, who was thousands of miles away, sleep better. But okay, I could get past that.

What I couldn’t get past, and what I thought was complete baloney was her statement that she had seen God, been with God, even been inside God. That did it for me. I had enough of this and abandoned the book.

Now it so happened that a few days later I met Amid, a young Indian man from Kolkata, formerly known as Calcutta. 

Ever curious about other countries, their customs and their people, we got to talking and I asked Amid if India  was as poor and desolate as some stories led on.

“Not at all,” he chuckled. “India is a thriving country with beautiful architecture, many businesses and young entrepreneurs, luxury homes and exotic cars such as Lamborghini, Ferrari, Bugatti and of course Porsche.”

One topic led to another and I asked if he had ever been to an ashram. Amid shook his head, an ashram was not his cup of tea. He knew about them of course, but he wasn’t keen on them.

“They’re for people who want to get closer to God, right?” I asked him.

“Ashrams are for rich people who want to get closer to God,” he corrected me.

“And the poor people?” I asked.

Amid shrugged. “They have to find God elsewhere on their own.”

He was familiar with Elizabeth Gilbert’s story, “Eat, Pray, Love” and had nothing good to say about it. He loved the movie and he loved Julia Roberts’ performance, but the book he classified as absolute rubbish. 

According to Amed, Gilbert romanticized the ashram experience and exaggerated shamelessly. He classified her as an attention seeker who had but one goal … to have her story published and would have gone to any lengths to do so.

I tend to agree with him. Some parts of the book were good, but Gilbert went a little too far, thus turning an educational story into a bunch of nonsense.

What bothered me about this author is that nobody can reach her. Plenty of bestselling authors have a “contact me” button on their website and a page on Facebook. They encourage their readers to get in touch with them and are happy to hear from them. 

Not Gilbert. She can’t be reached through her website and neither can anyone send her a message via Facebook. 

What is Gilbert so afraid of? 

After reading a few reviews on Amazon, I found a lengthy one of Lynne701 that hit the nail on the head. Rather than copying the whole review, I’ll limit myself to merely mentioning Lynne’s second last paragraph which states:

My biggest problem with this tome is that this 30-something woman basically is looking for applause for running off for a year, ostensibly supported by a $200K book advance, to "find God." I'm sure millions of women would love to leave their everyday lives and travel the world to do nothing but self-analyze. If she had done volunteer work, I may have felt differently. If she went through some real hardship, I could sympathize. But she was in an incompatible marriage, then dumped by the guy she left her husband for. She should perhaps speak to those battling life-threatening diseases, or raising children alone, or taking care of an elderly parent, or worried about where their next meal is coming from.

Lynne's review was appropriately titled "Eat, Pray, Shove".

Waiting for Silverbird

Chapter 1 


The audience rose to their feet in a standing ovation as Danielle Hamilton gracefully dropped to the floor, ending a three-hour show. Panting with exhaustion she listened to the crowd, the sound of hands clapping and voices cheering. The show was a success, no doubt about that, and for a moment she enjoyed the satisfaction of it. As the lights went to black and the stage was covered in near darkness she got up, ready to take her bow when the spotlights were turned on again. Noticing the chorus in the wings of the stage, seeing they were applauding her too, she signaled for them to join her on stage for yet another bow, and another and another. Danielle looked at the audience, hundreds of faces, glowing with enthusiasm and admiration. In the heat of the spotlights she felt beads of perspiration rolling down her face and neck. She didn’t mind, this was what made it all worthwhile. The getting up early in the morning, the grueling practice sessions, the endless rehearsals, the pain and frustration, this heat they all had to endure. Yes, this made it more than worth it.

Looking up into her partner’s eyes she saw him smiling down on her, slowly nodding, his face beaming with pride.

In the side wings Steve Savage looked at Danielle equally proud and listened to the applause. The audience loved the show, they loved Danielle, but then … they always had. Ever since her first show Broadway had fallen in love with this little lady, and ever since her first performance, every performance resulted in something like this. A standing ovation, applause that went on and on, whistles, voices cheering, and masses of flowers for Danielle. His Danielle. He was the one who found her, who took her under his wing, gave her the chance to do what she so desperately wanted … to dance on Broadway. He had to wonder though if he had done the right thing by giving her this chance. If it wasn’t for him she probably would have left New York, gone back to her family in Los Angeles and gone to work in her father’s firm. Because of him she got the chance to make her dream come true, but looking back, Danielle’s life had been like a nightmare.

Ten years ago Steve Savage had been to the theater and did not feel like going home after the performance. Home was just a luxury house with a lot of expensive furniture, but where nobody waited for him. Once, when he was considered the top manager of everybody who was anybody on Broadway, he had a beautiful wife and lots of friends. But ever since the car accident his life had changed. His wife left him, so had his friends, and his agency lost one client after another. People were horrified by his facial scars, thinking that someone who looked like this was not capable of handling their careers. One day Steve Savage could not take it anymore and decided he would leave them before another one could leave him. He closed down his agency and lived quietly at his secluded home in Connecticut. He had enough money to secure him a life of luxury and although it took some getting used to he learned to enjoy life again. But every now and then he got lonely and restless, longing for the bright lights of Broadway. At such times he would put on a dark suit and hat, and hide his identity and scars behind the high collar of his black cloak. In the theater, in the privacy of his box he was safe, nobody could see him and he could enjoy the music and the dancing.

“I feel like a walk, Oscar,” he told the driver of his limousine. “You go on, when I’m ready to come home I’ll take a cab.”

The old Mexican was more than just a driver and gardener to his employer, he had proven himself a friend. In the months following the accident it was Oscar who kept away curious reporters and always kept an eye open for photographers eager to capture and expose the mutilated face of Broadway’s most famous manager.

Steve walked for a long time, his hands deep in his pockets, his hat pulled down against the cold October wind, his thoughts going back to the day of the accident. April 1st it had been, three years ago, somewhere in Los Angeles. The crash was his fault. He had skipped a red traffic light and smashed into a car. Both had slammed on brakes but it was too late. The last thing he remembered was hitting the windscreen. When he woke up he found himself in a hospital room, and the leaves on the tree outside the window told him it was autumn. There had been no police investigation and no insurance claim.

Over the years he had often wondered why. The accident had clearly been his fault. Suffering from guilt, he had never driven a car again.

Steve slowed his pace at a local dance studio, hearing music and the sound of feet on a wooden floor. He went inside and listened wondering whom those feet belonged to. As the dancing stopped he could hear a girl sobbing, crying with anger “Why? Why? Why?”

He was about to go inside when he heard footsteps and another voice, comforting. “Don’t cry, Danny. You will get your chance, I know you will.”

“How can you say that?” the dancer disagreed. “I’ve been from one audition to another, nobody notices me.”

For a while it was silent, then the voice he recognized as the dancers’ spoke again. “I’m good, I know I’m good. Why doesn’t anybody give me a chance to prove that? Why?”

“You have to give it time, Danny,” the other voice said. “Someone will notice you.”

“Someone just did,” Steve made his presence known. “You’re good all right.”

Both girls looked in his direction, seeing no more than a figure dressed in a black cloak and hat, standing outside the door in the dimly lit corridor.

“Who are you?” the girl who sat kneeled by the dancer asked. “What do you want?”

“To help,” Steve said before he could stop himself. “That is, if you want my help.”

The dancer slowly straightened up. “How can you help me? How do you know I’m good? Have you been watching me?”

“I have recognized talent whenever I saw it,” Steve explained. “In your case I recognized it as soon as I heard it. You were dancing with anger and that is something I’ve always looked for in a performer, emotion. Whether it’s a dancer, a singer or an actor, a performer has to be able to put feeling in his or her work. You didn’t just dance with your feet, you danced with your heart.

That’s how I know you’re good.”

“And how can you help me?”

Steve hesitated. If he were to help this girl it would mean giving up his privacy, coming out of anonymity. Right now it meant stepping out of the darkness into the light. How would they react to him? The way he looked, the scars on his face. Would they be afraid of him? Scream and back away. Would they be disgusted, distrust him, and want nothing to do with him? He watched them looking at him, waiting. Hesitantly he took two steps, moving from the corridor into the studio and removed his hat. Both of them were staring at him, holding their breath. They had frowns on their faces and questions in their eyes. He suddenly became painfully aware of his disfigurement, of the scars that lined his face. One ran across his forehead, a second formed half a circle around his left eye, a third cut him across the right cheek.

“My name is Savage, Steve Savage,” he said to break the silence. “And you are?”

“Danielle Hamilton,” the dancer stepped forward to shake his hand. “And this is my sister Laura.”

Steve noticed the firm grip of her hand, the broad white smile that lit up her face, and the sparkle in her eyes. She was hot and perspiring, her hair was pulled away in a bun and slightly damp at the edges, but he could see that she was beautiful.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Put your trust in me,” he said. “If I am to help you, the one thing I want is your absolute and unconditional trust. I will take your life in my hands and control it. You are not to make a move without consulting me about it first. You are to do as I say with no questions asked. Think you can do that?”

She looked away for a few seconds, then looked back at him again. She looked straight into his eyes, holding his gaze without blinking, then nodded.

“If you’re willing to give me a chance, I won’t let you down.”

“Come on,” Steve said, “it’s late, let’s go home.”

“Oh that’s all right,” Laura joined them. “We live nearby.”

“No you don’t,” Steve raised an eyebrow, “not anymore. I’m taking you two to my home and I hope you will make it your home too. You can return in the morning for your personal things, but you won’t be living there anymore.”

Laura looked from Steve to her sister and back again. “I would like a word with my sister, alone please.”

As the applause went on more and more flowers were brought on stage. Bunches of roses and carnations, and baskets of lilies and orchids. Standing next to Steve, Laura glanced up to him, he looked so proud. But then he always did where Danielle was concerned. With a vague smile she remembered the night Steve had come into their lives.

“Are you out of your mind?” She had flown off the handle just as soon as Steve had left the studio, after suggesting she and Danielle come and live with him. “You can’t go with this man, you don’t know anything about him.”

“He is Steve Savage,” Danielle had emphasized the name as if he was Santa Claus. “Haven’t you ever heard of Steve Savage?” She hadn’t, but Danielle obviously had.

“Until a few years ago he was the hottest manager on Broadway. He handled everybody who was anybody. Then he was involved in a car crash and disappeared off the scene. Laura, do you know what this man can do for me?”

Laura had to admit she had no idea what Steve Savage could do for her sister. But then she had never been as interested in the happenings on Broadway as Danielle had.

“Do you think we can trust him?”

“Absolutely,” Danielle bobbed her head. “I would trust him with my life.” “Good, because that’s exactly what you’re about to do,” Laura stated. “The question is, what’s in it for him?”

Steve had taken them to his house, a place he described as his little hideaway, but what actually was a huge double-story luxury cottage. Even in the dark Laura noticed the beauty and charm of the place, something straight out of a fairy tale book. Whitewashed walls, a brown thatch roof, light brown oak windows with shutters, hundreds of red geraniums on the sills, and an enormous oak front door. Inside everything was cottage style as well. Warm colored carpets and rugs scattered over terra cotta floor tiles, robust oak furniture, cream woven curtains, tasteful ornaments, lampshades, and plants.

“My housekeeper has a flair for interior decorating,” Steve explained, seeing Laura’s inquisitive gaze. “She likes the place … cozy.”

He had taken them upstairs where they each had their own bedroom with on suite bathroom.

For Laura it felt wonderful to be in a house again. She was used to the space of the Hamilton mansion and although she had never complained to Danielle, she had hated living in a tiny apartment. If Mom and Dad had known about their living conditions, they would have insisted they return home immediately. Which was exactly why she had told them lies in her letters. She could not let her parents know that money was tight and Danielle did not have any luck landing a part in a show. After watching her sister dance she knew it was only a matter of time before someone recognized that talent, and with Steve’s arrival someone had.

However, for Danielle the hard times were far from over, in a way they had just begun. On Steve’s orders she would rise at 6:00 a.m. for a grueling day of training. Running, aerobics, and of course, dancing. Making her remember combinations, commanding her to do dance routines over and over again, not allowing for a single mistake.

Where personal appearance was concerned Steve sent Danielle to a beautician to learn the art of on stage make-up.

“And my hair?” Danielle asked, when she noticed Steve looking at her long tresses.

“You can have it trimmed now and then, but no more than that,” Steve said, holding up a warning finger. “No drastic cutting, no coloring, no perming. You’re beautiful as you are.”

“Doesn’t it bother you to be told what to do and what not to do?” Laura asked her sister when they were alone.

Danielle merely shrugged her shoulders. “No. He knows best.”

In one thing however Steve did not get his way. When he suggested a name change Danielle categorically shook her head.

“I was born Danielle Hamilton and I will remain Danielle Hamilton,” she claimed, and for the first time Steve came to know there was a limit to what he could expect of his pupil. She had a mind of her own and when she said no she meant it.

“All right then,” Steve gave in, “Danielle Hamilton it is.”

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