Brinley looked at Charlotte, who assumed her face had turned pink.
“Ladies and gentlemen, meet Miss Charlotte Page, principal dancer of the Chicago City Ballet.”
Charlotte took a step forward as a smattering of applause filled the room.
She smiled. She’d spoken in front of groups before, usually at charity events. She’d taught plenty of masterclasses and workshops. She knew how to carry herself in a crowd.
But somehow, this was different. These were Julianna’s people. And Charlotte desperately wanted them to like her.
“Thanks, Brinley,” she said. “I came here a couple weeks ago because Julianna spoke so highly of Harbor Pointe and of all of you. When I realized her students didn’t have the recital she’d planned, I wanted to see if we could remedy that. A dance recital is a really big deal to a lot of these dancers—and to Jules.
“We want to use this as an opportunity to honor Julianna. A tribute, I suppose.”
“A celebration of her life,” Brinley added.
“Right,” Charlotte said. “So, it won’t be just a dance recital, it’ll be a little more meaningful this year.”
“And it should be,” the older woman Quinn had been talking to said. “I’m Martha Trembley, and I’ve been helping Julianna since the beginning. My granddaughters are teenagers now, and they’ve grown so much because of dance. So, I mend costumes and help plan and organize where I can. I’m at your disposal.”
Charlotte smiled, bolstered by the support. “I appreciate that. One idea we had was to invite people who loved her to get up on stage and be a part of this event.”
“Charlotte would choreograph numbers for local couples or groups—just to add a little something special this year,” Brinley said.
“There was always something different about Julianna’s recitals,” a middle-aged woman said. “They always had a more theatrical element. And it was always a family affair.”
“She even got her husband involved,” another woman said. “He’d do a dance with their daughter every single year since she could walk.”
“Who’s going to do that this year?” another woman asked.
All eyes returned to Charlotte. She stuttered, then finally said, “I’ll talk to him, but if he doesn’t want to participate, then we’ll do other things to celebrate Jules. Like I said, it’ll look a little different this year.”
“We really should try to keep them involved,” the first woman said. “People look forward to it every season.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand if Connor isn’t up for it this time,” Lucy said. She looked at Charlotte. “I think I can get a group of Julianna’s friends to participate.” She looked at Quinn. “Right?”
Quinn frowned. “You want me to dance? I thought we were here to help with the set.”
Lucy shrugged. “You can pull double duty.”
The group began to chatter for a few minutes, throwing around ideas of people who might want to join them in this tribute. So far, the list consisted mostly of people Charlotte didn’t know. In fact, the only names she’d recognized were Steve and Hildy from Haven House.
“What about asking the football team to do something?” one of the women suggested. “I’m Patricia Dunbar,” she said with a pointed look at Charlotte. “My son plays on the team, and they were state champions last year.”
Charlotte froze. They were a single degree away from discussing the one person whose name she didn’t want brought up at this meeting. The last thing she needed was for Cole or his team to show up in the dance studio.
“Maybe?” Charlotte’s voice sounded unsure. Already it was happening—she was losing her nerve just thinking about—
“What about Cole Turner?” The traitorous suggestion had come from Lucy.
Lucy caught her eye and winked. What was she up to? Cole would kill her if he knew she’d thrown his name in the mix.
“I don’t see that happening,” Charlotte said.
“You don’t think he’d do it for his sister?” Lucy asked, scanning the circle with her eyes. “I know the point isn’t to fill the seats, but if we could tell people Coach Turner was going to dance, it would definitely draw a crowd.”
“Lucy’s right,” Patricia said. “State-winning football coach, big, strong man. Julianna’s brother. It’s a brilliant idea.” She glanced at Brinley. “You should write it down.”
“Coach Turner isn’t going to go for that,” Brinley said.
Lucy grinned. “Let’s have Charlotte ask him.”
“Me?” Charlotte knew her eyes showed her surprise, but did they also show the sheer panic she felt at that suggestion?
“You’re Julianna’s friend,” Lucy said. “And a dancer. You did say you’d do whatever you could to help.” Her innocent smile was anything but.
“I think you’re forgetting that Cole doesn’t actually like me,” Charlotte mumbled.
Lucy shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen? He says no. No big deal. We should at least extend the invitation.”
She made it sound so easy.
“It’s a great idea,” Patricia said, as if it were settled. As if she were in charge. “Charlotte will talk to Coach Turner about his involvement as well as the team’s. Maybe you could also connect with Steve and Hildy? And you said you’ll talk to Connor?”
“I mentioned it to him already.”
All eyes were on her.
“I’ll follow up.”
“Perfect.” Patricia smiled, oblivious to the fireworks going off inside Charlotte’s head.
“And of course, you’ll perform too, Charlotte,” Mrs. Trembley said—less of a suggestion, more of a question.
“Of course she will,” Lucy said with a grin.
Charlotte started to respond but realized the rest of the room had moved on to a new topic—the set design.
Quinn pulled a sheet of paper from her planner. “Jules and I worked up a great plan for the recital a few months back.”
Charlotte half listened as the group carried on, bouncing from topic to topic. They covered everything from refreshments to hair and makeup to publicity. Everyone already knew their place and had their job. And now, Charlotte did too.
She’d proposed the idea of holding the recital, and she was all for it, but including community members as a way to honor Julianna could prove to be more than she’d bargained for.
After all, the thought of reaching out to the couple who ran Haven House was slightly uncomfortable.
The thought of convincing Cole Turner to be a part of this event?
That was downright terrifying.
15
The next day, after practice, Cole got a text from his high school buddy turned tech mogul, Josh Dixon.
Meet us at Hazel’s? I had to get Connor out of that house.
On my way.
Dread twisted in his belly. He didn’t want to go to the diner, where the morning crowd would consist of a mix of tourists and locals who made it their daily stop before heading off to the beach for an afternoon of carefree fun.