Page 9 of Flirty Dancing

9

Tea for Three

Archer couldn’t find Caleb anywhere. He was not on the path ahead of him back to their dorm, and he wasn’t in their room or the bathroom. So Archer shrugged and got ready for bed, figuring Caleb would show up when he was done pouting. He fell asleep quickly, the exhausting week and promise of a Sunday morning sleep-in pulling him down into a deep slumber.

When he woke to the sound of Beau and Ben stumbling off to breakfast in the morning, Archer allowed himself the luxury of rolling over and burrowing back under the blankets. The second time he blinked into consciousness, the room was empty. He soaked in the silence, stretching out each finger and toe, enjoying the shiver in his muscles. When he felt ready to face the world, he grabbed his phone and saw a message from Lynn: How’s things?

Great! he replied. We made it once through all the shows. Pretty smooth.

Her reply popped up right away. And Caleb?

Yeah, we’re still… hanging out.

Just hanging? No other “ing” verbs?

Not yet… I don’t know… He’s hot but it doesn’t feel quite right?

In the words of the divine Ms. Natasha Lyonne, it’s sex, not a space shuttle launch.

Archer laughed at the American Pie reference. I know… but I could very well be heading back to Ohio in the fall, so no point in getting heavily involved with someone. Or what if we break up before that and still have to dance together every night?

True, true… or do you have your eye on Mateo still?

Archer’s cheeks reddened, remembering the heat of Mateo’s body pressed to his on the couch last night. Definitely not. So, any new proposal ideas?

Ugh, we are absolutely swamped at work right now. We’re in court in two weeks for a huge case. Proposal might have to wait a while.

Okay, I’ll keep thinking.

Me too. Thanks, Arch. Talk soon.

It turned out he had slept right through breakfast and was in danger of missing the lunch window, too. He had a quick shower, threw on some sweats, and jogged up the path to the dining hall. Most employees had already cleared out, but he saw Caleb sitting alone at one of the long tables. Archer gripped his tray and went to sit next to him.

“Hey,” he said, prepared for some frost, or at least some remnants of the sulk from last night.

But there was nothing. “Hey, you,” Caleb chirped, leaning over to give Archer a kiss on his cheek. “Man, you were out cold when I got up this morning. Have a good sleep?”

“Yes, great sleep. Where did you go last night? I left right after you did but I couldn’t catch up to you.”

“Oh…” Caleb waved an airy hand. “You know, took a walk, cleared my head.”

“Look, I’m sorry about the Monopoly, I—”

“It’s fine,” Caleb interrupted. “It’s only a silly game. I think I was overtired.”

“It was a crazy week, that’s for sure.”

Archer was glad Caleb wasn’t mad, but he felt a little unsettled as they chatted over their sandwiches. They had to hurry, though, because after lunch, the dancers gathered at the theater.

“Well, my darlings,” Stewart said, leaning on his cane, Judy wagging her tail at his feet. “You have no need of me anymore. Judy and I are off to other adventures, but we’ll be back in a few weeks to check in on you. Now, Mateo…” He rested a hand on Mateo’s broad shoulder. “You’re in charge. I trust you to keep these whippersnappers in shape.”

Mateo nodded and hugged him.

“Dominik, listen to Mateo. I know you think all of your ideas are good but…” He studied Dominik’s mohawk. “… they are not.”

Dominik sighed and hugged him. “Thanks, Stewart.”

Stewart went down the line, imparting final words of wisdom for each dancer, until he reached Archer at the end. “And Archer, my boy. Remember, sex on the dance floor, yes?”

Archer’s cheeks heated. “Right.”

Stewart hugged him, scooped Judy up with a flourish and, with a final wave, tromped out the door.

The troupe looked at one another in silence for a minute.

“Swim and suntan?” Dominik suggested.

Swim and suntan.

Archer and Caleb were heading back to the dorm to change into their suits when a voice called to them. “Excuse me! Young man!”

Archer looked back and saw Ms. Eileen Lamb waving at him. She was wearing pink this time, another flowery dress with a matching hat.

She came puffing up to them. “Hello, loves. My goodness.” She put her hand on her hips and leaned back to catch her breath for a moment. “It’s already so hot, and it’s not even June yet.” A few silver curls had escaped from her cap.

“Ms. Lamb,” Archer said, smiling.

She didn’t seem surprised that he knew her name. “Yes, and you are…?”

“Archer Read,” he said as she shook his hand. “And you may already know Caleb?”

“Hi there,” Caleb said with his seasoned performance smile.

“Hello, Caleb. I do remember you from years previous.” But Eileen barely glanced at him. “I had to talk to you, Mr. Read, and let you know that the ballet duet you did with Mr. Dixon was breathtaking.”

“Oh, thank you. And please, call me Archer.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Caleb muttered to him.

“Okay,” Archer replied, but Caleb was already several steps away.

“Well, Archer, it was just stunning,” Eileen continued. “You two literally took my breath away. Those grand jetés at the end? Superb.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. Lamb.” Archer had never had anyone approach him in public about his dancing before, and he had to admit it was rather thrilling.

“You know, I used to be something of a dancer in my day,” she informed him, patting a curl back into place.

“Oh? What kind of dancing?”

“Ballroom—the waltz was my favorite. But I was almost a Rockette, you know.” She sighed. “That was another time, of course. Perhaps I could have you and Mr. Dixon for tea sometime and tell you all about it? We could talk dance?”

“That sounds great.”

“That last cabin”—she turned to point along the east side of the lake, to the very last one perched by the shore with its own small dock—“is where I stay every summer. Been here for years.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. You must really love it here.”

“I sure do. What about Wednesday?”

“Wednesday?”

“Would you and Mr. Dixon like to come to tea on Wednesday afternoon?”

“Oh, um…” Archer’s brain whirred. “Let me ask Mateo.”

“Thank you, Archer. I’d love to talk more.”

“Me too. I’d better get going now, Ms. Lamb, but it was lovely to meet you.”

“You too, Archer. I’ll look forward to seeing that piece every week.”

“Thank you. I look forward to dancing it.”

On Monday, they were waiting offstage for Francisco’s welcoming announcement for Club Retro when Archer heard the murmur of two voices arguing but trying to be quiet about it. He turned to see Ben and Beau facing off, arms crossed and glaring, anger in stark juxtaposition to their shimmering white costumes. The other dancers were turning to watch them, too.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ben hissed at his boyfriend. “You’re going to pull this shit on me now ? We go on in two minutes!”

“Oh, I’m sorry if my feelings are inconvenient for you,” Beau snipped.

Ben threw his hands up. “For fuck’s sake. I am not crushing on Gage!”

Gage’s eyes widened. They tried not to stare at him.

“I’m so sorry, Gage,” Ben continued, his voice growing louder. “But my insane boyfriend is jealous of you because, apparently, I happened to look at you one time.”

“‘Happened’ to look at him, please .” Beau rolled his eyes. “You were literally drooling over him on the dock yesterday.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT LITERALLY MEANS.”

“Hey!” Mateo stormed over, brows bunched. “Get it the fuck together. They’ll be able to hear you out there.” He pointed through the masking draperies to where the audience waited.

Ben pressed his lips together, chagrined. “Sorry, Mateo. It’s just… I don’t know what else to say.”

The room fell into awkward silence.

“Maybe this is a good time to tell you all,” Gage interjected in a stage whisper, “that River and I are together.”

All heads swiveled over to River, who froze, eyes wide, then offered an awkward grin. “Ummm,” they said. River usually didn’t say much.

The group turned back to Beau and Ben.

“Fine.” Beau sniffed. “I believe you.”

Ben shook his head. “You are—” But he noticed Mateo still glaring at them and took a calming breath. “Fine.”

Mateo nodded. “Fine?” he asked Beau.

“Fine,” Beau said, arms still crossed.

Mateo sighed, but it was drowned out by Francisco’s announcement.

He caught Archer’s eye and Archer shrugged. Hopefully that would be the last of the Bs drama… but somehow, he doubted it.

“Oh, hey,” Archer said to Mateo after the first show. “I meant to ask you…”

It was hard to focus as Mateo peeled the top half of his jumpsuit down and began toweling off his glistening torso. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Um. So. Uh, yesterday I ran into Eileen Lamb, you know that resident guest who comes to every show? She’s always wearing flowered dresses?”

“I think so?” Mateo said, now tipping his head back to chug from his water bottle.

“Well, she is a big fan of ours, I guess. She used to be a dancer. She stopped me to tell me how much she loved the pas de deux, and she invited us—like, you and me—to tea on Wednesday.”

Mateo paused to cock an eyebrow. “Tea? In her cabin?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s a little odd, but she seems really sweet and just looking to make friends. Relive her glory days.”

Mateo shrugged. “Sure, I guess so.”

“Great, I’ll find her and let her know.”

“Ready to go?” Mateo appeared at Archer’s bedroom door Wednesday afternoon.

“Yup.” Archer scrambled to his feet. Shit . Mateo was early. Archer had planned to meet him outside the dorm. Mateo looked amazing though—breezy white linen shorts and a matching shirt that made his tawny skin pop. His black hair was tousled perfectly over his forehead. Archer wondered if he looked nice enough in his faded raspberry T-shirt and khaki shorts.

“Ready to go?” Caleb looked up and frowned. “Go where?”

“Um, Ms. Lamb invited Mateo and me to have tea in her cabin.”

“What?” Caleb scrunched his face. “That’s weird.”

“I guess, but… can’t hurt, right?” Archer reached under his bed for his flip-flops, but then noticed Mateo had slate blue canvas loafers on and changed his mind, digging for his white slip-on sneakers.

Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “So the two of you are just… going to have tea… with an old lady.”

Archer nodded, eyes flicking to Mateo, who looked completely unbothered by Caleb’s skepticism. A real talent of his.

“Whatever,” Caleb shrugged, attention going back to his phone. “Have fun.”

“Thanks. We’ll be back for dinner.”

Caleb nodded without looking up again.

Archer slipped his shoes on while Mateo hovered in the doorway, then they headed out into another beautiful day at Shady Queens. They walked in silence along the path toward the guest cabins and onto the grassy flat by the main beach. Archer smiled at a pigtailed toddler chasing after a ball, her moms following her, popsicles melting in their hands.

“Are you having a good time here?” Mateo asked as they took the next path toward Eileen’s cabin.

“What? Oh, yeah. Definitely. I mean, a paying gig for almost four months, not having to pound the pavement in the city, getting rejected every couple days.”

“Yeah…” Mateo nodded. “It’s not really the same, though, is it? Performing at Shady Queens versus a stage in Manhattan?”

Archer stiffened. “Not all of us can land roles on Broadway.”

Mateo studied the lake and the ripples kicked up by a warm breeze. “That’s not what I meant. I—”

“Helloooo!” They were interrupted by a distant trill.

Archer looked down the path, and there was Eileen, on her little front porch waving a scarf at them. Yellow, this time.

“Hello!” she called again, her smile growing the closer they got. “Thank you so much for coming!” she cried as they reached the path up to her door. She hopped down the steps and wrapped Archer in a hug.

“Hi, Ms. Lamb,” Archer said, surprised at her wiry strength. Once he had his limbs back, he turned to Mateo. “Mateo, may I introduce you to Ms. Eileen Lamb?”

“Hello, Ms. Lamb,” Mateo said smoothly, shaking her hand. “Thank you so much for having us. That’s very kind of you.”

“You’re so welcome, and it is such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dixon. Please, please, come in.” She ushered them up the steps and herded them into her cabin. It was one of the smallest guest cabins available, one bedroom and a combined seating area and kitchen, but other than that it bore absolutely no resemblance to the rest of the cabins. Almost every surface was covered with flowers or floral prints—curtains, throws, cushions, rugs—plus actual vases containing flowers, and pictures of flowers, and figurines of flowers. A lot of flowers.

Archer and Mateo stood in the doorway gaping as Eileen hurried over to the kitchen to grab the whistling kettle off the stove.

“Wow!” Archer exclaimed, eyes still jumping around, unable to focus on one particular bloom. “How did you… pack all this in here?”

“Oh!” Eileen laughed. “My flowers? Yes, I have a storage unit nearby and my assistant arranges it all for me before I arrive. I like to feel at home when I’m here. And really, it is my home for the summer.”

“I like the…” Mateo’s eyes drifted, too. “The bouquet of violets.”

Eileen beamed as she poured the water into the teapot covered in pink roses. “I picked those myself on a walk this morning. Now…” She put the kettle down and waved at the couch draped with lavender throws and cushions. “Please, won’t you have a seat?”

“Can I help with anything?” Archer asked, noting the rather massive three-tiered serving stand of tiny triangle sandwiches and mini scones on the counter.

“Not at all!” Eileen sang, staggering over with the thing and setting it on the coffee table. “I made these scones this morning myself, for you two.”

“I can’t believe you went to all this trouble!” Archer said, eyeing the piles of treats.

“Hmm…” She scooted back to the kitchen. “I have to admit, I do have a bit of an ulterior motive.”

“You do?” Archer asked, sharing a glance with Mateo.

Eileen paused to pick up the heavily laden serving tray.

“Um…” Archer hopped up and took the shaking tray from her. “Please, let me.”

“Thank you, dear.” Eileen watched Archer fondly as he set it down next to the stand. “I’ll pour, shall I? Please, help yourselves to the food.”

Archer passed a dainty plate to Mateo and took one for himself before choosing two egg salad sandwich triangles and a blueberry scone. Mateo took the same for his plate.

“How do you two take your tea?” she asked.

“A bit of cream and sugar for me, please,” Archer asked.

“Same for me,” Mateo said.

Eileen poured and stirred and handed out their matching cups and saucers.

The first bite of the egg salad was mouthwatering, and Archer was about to devour the rest of it in one bite when Eileen set her saucer down.

“I have to tell you,” she said, folding her hands together. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you on stage, Mr. Dixon.”

“Oh?” Mateo said, scone halfway to his mouth. “And please, call me Mateo.”

“Certainly, Mateo.”

“You recognized me, you mean?”

She beamed, reaching for the shelf under the coffee table, and pulled up a Playbill. “I saw Robin’s Egg twelve times. You were an absolute marvel.”

Archer froze. Oh God. What had he walked Mateo into?

Mateo looked frozen too, and then he set his scone down. “Thank you.”

“Would it be too much to ask if you signed my Playbill, please?” She held it out to him with a fancy pen.

“Sure,” he said with a tight smile, reaching across the table. “How did this get here?”

“My assistant brought it for me when I saw you that first night.”

“Ah.”

Don’t ask, don’t ask, do not ask what happened, Archer chanted in his head at Eileen as Mateo scrawled his signature next to his face on the front and handed it back to her.

Eileen clutched it to her chest, eyes bright. “Thank you so much, Mateo. I will treasure this.”

Mateo shifted. “You’re welcome.” He picked up his plate again. “This scone looks delicious.”

“I certainly hope so! The oven here is so fussy…”

Archer let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He hoped they could make it through the rest of the tea without Eileen bringing up Robin’s Egg again, and they did. She asked about Archer’s life, was shocked that he hadn’t had any luck on the audition circuit, and complimented their dancing again.

Archer asked about her background, and she regaled them with stories from her youth about ballroom dance competitions and the time she made it to the final round of auditions for the Rockettes.

Archer kept a nervous eye on Mateo, worried that he would be furious, but he seemed relaxed, eating at least three mini scones and having a refill of tea.

When it was time for them to head back and get ready for that evening’s performance, Eileen waved goodbye from the front porch with the promise to have them back soon.

“I’m so sorry ,” Archer said the moment they were back on the path toward the main beach and out of view of her cabin. “I had no idea she knew who you were. I never thought about her wanting your autograph and shit.”

Mateo shrugged. “It’s okay. She’s sweet. And I had a good time, actually. She’s got great stories.”

Relief swept over Archer at Mateo’s reassurance. “That’s good. I did, too. I’m still really sorry, though.” They crossed the grassy flat, watching the families squeezing out the last of their day at the beach before it was time to get ready for dinner. “So… can I have your autograph?” Archer hedged as the dorm came into view.

Mateo laughed, eyes crinkled against the dipping sun. “No.”