Love's Last Chance by Jean C. Joachim

by the dry sand in what passed for a front
yard.
    Because they rarely ate before nine, Mary
had whipped up a huge bowl of her famous spaghetti. Handsome guys
and pretty ladies were sitting on chairs, the sofa, and even
cross-legged on the floor, consuming bowl after bowl of the tasty
pasta.
    Empty cardboard holders for four cases of
beer were already stacked up by the garbage. Dorrie helped herself
to a plate then got one for Johnny, too. He nabbed the last two
beers from case number five. They met on the front steps.
    “Too hot, too many people in there,” she
said, offering him food then plopping down next to him. He twisted
the tops off both bottles then handed one to her. They ate in
silence. Dorrie stared up at the stars twinkling for all they were
worth in the clear sky.
    “No stars in L.A. Too much smog. New York
either. No stars. Beautiful.” She smiled and took a deep breath.
“Damn. Fresh air, too. My lungs aren’t used to this.”
    “So what really happened after you left
here?”
    “Huh?”
    “I mean to your engagement, your life.”
Johnny twirled some spaghetti on his fork.
    “I told you.” The moonlight cast shadows on
his face, highlighting his strong jaw and sensuous lips, lips she
wanted to taste again.
    “Details.”
    “Gunther was a producer on the movie I was
going to dance in. We met, started going out. He swept me off my
feet. He’s rich, and the lifestyle was…awesome, to say the least.
Limos, expensive restaurants, house on the beach, weekends in
Mexico.” Her gaze searched his face, half hidden in darkness. Could he really be interested in this? Still, he was
listening intently, appearing to hang on every word.
    “You fell for him or the lifestyle?”
    “Him first. He was the most charming,
attentive man. Smart. Knows everything about the movie business…and
everyone in it. We were going to be an unbeatable team. Make movies
together, him producing, me starring, dancing… conquer the world.”
She gestured with her free hand. “I was his new find .”
    “And?” He sucked on his beer.
    “I fell down the back stairs at his beach
house. Broke my ankle.”
    “No more dancing?”
    She shook her head. “Couldn’t do the movie,
and my career was finished.” Johnny licked some beer off his bottom
lip. The gesture made her stomach go weak.
    “What did he say?”
    “Nothing. He nursed me for a short time. Let
me stay in the house for a couple of weeks. When I got well enough,
I moved out and began teaching yoga and dance. He coughed up
six-months rent for a studio.”
    She stopped. The memory of the pain,
physical and emotional, when she had had to give up dance tore
through her chest again. She blinked back tears.
    “That must’ve been tough.” Johnny took her
hand.
    “Dance was all I ever wanted to do. And the
movies… my ultimate dream.”
    “So what happened to this Gunther guy?” He
ran his thumb over the back of her hand.
    “He waited until I was set up…had some
clients and was earning enough to rent a small apartment. Then he
dumped me. Explained how his plans didn’t include a yoga
instructor. Only a star. He let me keep the ring, which I sold to
pay for groceries when I moved out.”
    “That was harsh. I’d never do that.” He put
the last forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.
    She cocked an eyebrow at him. “No? No, you’d
dump me before I even broke my ankle.”
    “Wait a minute! I never dumped you. You
dumped me!”
    “What? That’s the craziest thing…” Her
eyebrows shot up. She turned to face him.
    “It’s the truth. Admit it, Dorrie.”
    The screen door was pushed open, and Mary
came out. “Here you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,
Johnny! Dorrie hogging you again? Figures.” She made a sour face
then smiled at him.
    Dorrie turned her gaze to her food and
twirled some pasta onto her fork. She downed the last of her beer
and stood up. “Great spaghetti, Mary, as always. Thanks.” She shot
a glance at Johnny then pulled open the door