Honeymoon in High Heels Read Online Free PDF

skittered down the hallway.
    As I’d remembered from the previous night, the ladies’ room was on the right, the door to the outside on the left.  I passed by both this time, continuing down the long hallway.  I heard voices from the end, both men and women, all raised in excitement.  At the end of the hallway sat another doorway, this one open, leading to a room filled with make-up tables and wardrobe racks.  Two girls sat at tables, while the three guys I’d just seen perform were in various stages of re-dressing in street clothes. 
    I paused a moment outside the room, feeling like an intruder and grasping for any plausible reason I could have for entering the dressing room to speak with Temoe.  Luckily, I was saved coming up with one, as the guy with the soul patch, now clad in sweat pants and a plain white T-shirt, hoisted a gym bag onto his shoulder and headed right toward me.
    I jumped back so as not to seem like I was spying.  As he passed by me, I took a chance on my fifty-fifty odds.  “Temoe?” I asked.
    He paused halfway down the hall, then turned to me with a frown.  “Who’s asking?”
    For once, luck was on my side.
    “Uh, hi.  I’m Maddie Springer.  I left a message on your phone earlier today?”
    The frown didn’t disappear.  “I haven’t checked my messages.”
    “Oh.  Well, um, I was wondering if I could talk with you about some possible dance lessons?”
    He shook his head.  “Sorry. I don’t give lessons,” he said, then turned back around and continued walking.
    Crap.  My heels clacked along the floor as I ran to catch up with him.  “Uh, wow, you dance so well.  Are you sure?  I mean, we’d be willing to pay you,” I grasped.
    “No thanks,” he grumbled, not breaking his stride. 
    I nearly tripped as I caught up to him at the door to the alleyway, warm air rushing at me as he stepped through.  “Well, maybe you could recommend-”
    But he didn’t let me finish.  Instead, he turned around so abruptly that we were suddenly nose to nose.  “I’m off the clock now, got it, lady?” he growled.
    I swallowed hard.  While he’d had an impressive physique on stage, he was even more imposing up close.  The veins in his thick neck bulged, his shoulders were broad enough to block out any escape on my part, and his height towered menacingly over my own 5' 1 1/2" frame.  Suddenly it felt all too plausible that this guy could throttle a woman to death with whatever he had on hand.  Instinctively I took one giant step backward.
    “Right.  Sure.  I get that,” I managed to squeak out.
    He grunted my way, but the veins evened out some.  Which I took as a good enough sign to plow ahead.
    “It’s just that, well, Ahlia said you were the best dancer at the resort,” I lied.
    His eyes narrowed instantly.  “How did you know Ahlia?”
    “Oh, you know, from around,” I said, waving my hand in a purposely vague manner.  “You knew her, too, right?”
    His jaw clenched.  “Yeah.  So?”
    “I mean, you knew her well,” I pushed.  “Rumor has it you were even dating her.”
    There went those veins again, pulsating like angry beacons.  “Who told you that?” he demanded.
    I swallowed hard, taking another step backward.  “Oh, no one.  You know.  I heard it around,” I said, using the same vague phrase again.     
    “Well it’s none of your damned business how well I knew her, got it?” he asked.
    I nodded.  “Got it,” I squeaked again.
    "And leave me the hell alone."  He punctuated that last command with another grunt, then spun around and stalked toward the parking lot.
    I let out a breath of air I didn’t realize I’d been holding as he put distance between us.  So much for my fantastic interrogation skills.
    But I had lea r ned at l e ast one useful thing this evening.  Ahlia’s husband wasn’t the only man at the resort with a temper!
     
    *  *  *
     
    I went back to the table and tried to enjoy the rest of my dinner, all the