Danielle Hamilton wants nothing more than to be a Broadway dancer. At age 21 she moves to New York, accompanied by her sister Laura. But life in New York is nothing like Danielle imagined, and after countless auditions, she is still as unemployed as the day she arrived in the city. Then she meets Steve Savage. Steve is an ex-Broadway manager who disappeared off the scene after a car accident. He agrees to work with Danielle and to introduce her to the right people on Broadway. Danielle is thrilled that she finally is going to live her dream, but Laura suspects that he has a hidden agenda. And he does.
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Prologue
Laura Hamilton gazed at the woman in the painting. Her captured features
were so true to life it was almost frightening. The glow of her peachy skin, big
brown eyes with long thick lashes under shapely brows, a fine straight nose,
sensual moist red lips, and a mass of lustrous wavy blond hair. Resting her
chin in the palm of her hand she had a far away look in her eyes and a trace
of a smile around her mouth. She was intriguing, charming and of exceptional
beauty. Laura found herself fascinated by the painting, just as she had been
the first time she laid eyes on it. Catching a glimpse of herself in a gold framed
photograph on one of the side tables in the living room she found it hard to
believe this woman was her sister, she had none of her fine features. With her
olive tan, chestnut hair and green eyes she had inherited her mother’s looks.
Not something to be unhappy about, but she didn’t have that carefree girlish
look Danielle had. Danielle had it all. Beauty, brains, charm, confidence, a
sense of humor, and to top it all, an exceptional dance talent. A dance talent
that might not have surfaced if it had not been for an accident.
At age 8 Danielle had been knocked down by a car and sustained a back
injury. In the attending specialist’s opinion she would have to exercise for
years to come if her spine was to develop correctly. In order to make the
exercises more fun he had advised ballet training. The strenuous program
would not only ensure a straight back and good posture but would stretch her
muscles. Danielle had taken to ballet like a fish to water. While other children
watched cartoons and Walt Disney movies, she was in her room practicing
the steps she had learned that day. She wasn’t even 9 years old when she first
claimed that when she grew up she was going to be a dancer.
Blake and Veronica Hamilton had smiled tenderly at their little daughter,
oblivious to her dance talent, just thankful that she was able to walk.
But ballet was not really what Danielle had in mind for her future. At age
twelve she put her ballet shoes on her bedroom wall claiming she wanted to dance
to something with a bit more rhythm, more spunk, something with which she
could express her innermost feelings. Expressing herself in dance had
become second nature to Danielle, whether she was happy or sad, excited or
depressed; she would go to the ballroom of her parents’ mansion, put on some
music to suit her mood and start to move. Laura remembered how she used to
watch her younger sister through a peephole in one of the walls, fascinated
how a few arm and hip movements gradually resulted in a graceful or wild
passionate dance. Eventually she was able to tell what mood Danielle was in
just by listening to the sound of her feet on the black and white marble floor.
Even though she had bid ballet school goodbye, Danielle still kept up the
exercises. She joined a local contemporary dance school and studied every
dance under the sun. She had a hunger to learn and would practice until she
reached perfection. Her teachers soon noticed her talent and dedication, and
at junior championships she walked away with one winning trophy after
another.
By then, Blake and Veronica Hamilton’s smiles had turned into frowns.
They did not like Danielle’s obsession with dancing and made it quite clear
that studying towards a degree was far more important. When Danielle
disagreed she was put on a plane to Switzerland, where the nuns of the
convent St. Helena were to see to her high school education and proper
ladylike manners.
Academically Danielle was genius, finishing every year top of her class,
helping others with whatever she could. But turning her into a lady proved to
be somewhat of a problem, if not a nightmare. Danny, as she was referred to,
was too wild, too outspoken, and too hardheaded, landing her constantly in
hot water. Still they loved her, Mother Superior along with all the other nuns.
It was hard not to love this doll-like beauty with her sparkling personality, and
she was an absolute favorite with her peers.
Danielle has a brilliant mind, is very well spoken, shows great confidence
and a strong sense of leadership, Mother Superior wrote in her monthly letter
to Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton in her final year of high school. A career in law or
politics would be perfect for this little terrorist.
Blake and Veronica Hamilton were delighted with Mother Superior’s
review and took her words to heart when later on she was sent to Paris,
France, where she was to study law at the Sorbonne. For the duration of her
stay in Paris her father had arranged for a fully furnished penthouse in the
center of town and a generous monthly allowance.
In the letters Danielle sent she sounded happy and content, telling her
family about her classes, newfound friendships and visits to various Parisian
landmarks. Laura had merely smiled when she heard of those cultural visits,
knowing those were not the only places of interest to her sister. To Laura,
Danielle told of a different kind of life in Paris. The various parties she
attended, the nights on the town with her girlfriends, and visits to famous
nightclubs. Laura often wondered when her sister got time to study.
And then Alain Bertrand came into Danielle’s life. She met him at a New
Year’s Eve party and was charmed by this dashing young Frenchman, five
years her senior. When they kissed at midnight she found herself in love for
the first time. Back home nobody but Laura knew about this meeting and the
developing relationship. Throughout the first couple of letters it was Alain
this and Alain that, raving about how handsome and wonderful he was. Alain
had taken her to lunch at Café Paris, to dinner at Maxim’s, for coffee on the
top of the Eiffel Tower, and to a fashion parade at the house of Dior. This first
love swept Danielle off her feet and let her walk with her head in the clouds.
By Easter, adventurous outings had made way for romantic dinners in his or
her apartment, evenings by the fireplace and passionate nights. Passionate
nights … that was one Laura had to get used to. Her sister was sleeping with
this man! With the arrival of summer Danielle told Laura that Alain had
moved in with her. Skeptical as Laura had been at first about this
arrangement, after a while she had to admit that Alain seemed to be a blessing
for her sister. Her letters seemed happier than ever and with Alain for a tutor
she studied with a so far unknown discipline. In just three years she graduated
from law school, with honors.
But then Danielle’s happy little world collapsed. At 21 and finished with
her education, there was no reason for her to stay in Europe. All throughout
high school and university she had never given up her dream to pursue a
dancing career and now she was finally free to do so. When she asked Alain
to come with her to the United States, he refused. She pleaded with him,
begged him, but he would not even consider leaving France. He claimed his
future was with his father’s firm and in turn begged Danielle to stay with him.
Heartbroken and with tears streaming down their faces they said goodbye,
both too stubborn to change their minds.
Meanwhile in Los Angeles, at the Hamilton mansion, a party was being
organized. Danielle was coming home and the whole household was in a
festive mood.
“Do Mom and Dad know about Alain?” Danielle asked her sister, just as
soon as she had her alone.
“No, you told me not to tell them anything. Did he come with you?”
When Laura heard that the romance was over, because her sister wanted
to try her luck on Broadway and Alain did not want to join her there, she was
shocked.
“Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that dream,” she said. “Danny, what
do you know about dancing? I know you fancied dancing as a child, but
you’re grown up now, with a future in law.”
“Only because I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Danielle threw back.
“In my heart I always wanted to be a dancer. You know that.”
Yes, Laura knew that. She also knew that there were thousands of girls
with the same dream, girls who had been working towards a dance career
their whole lives. How was her sister going to compete with them? In her
opinion Danielle might well have a brilliant mind in academics, but she sure
was naive in life.
When Blake and Veronica heard about Danielle’s plan to go to New York
all hell broke loose at the Hamilton mansion. One sermon followed another,
but Danielle was determined, she was going. Eventually a mutual agreement
was reached, she could go to New York but she had to take Laura with her.
And, as her father put it, if the dancing business didn’t work out within six
months she was to return home.
“Are you out of your mind?” Veronica Hamilton cried when she heard of
this arrangement. “Letting a 21-year-old girl go to New York!” Her blood
was boiling and although she rarely lost her temper, this time her
temperament got the better of her. “All this silliness about dancing on
Broadway. Her place is in the family business, not on some stage.”
“Relax, Vicky,” Blake Hamilton tried to calm his wife. “I know what I’m
doing. Let Danielle go to New York, let her chase her fantasy, believe me
that’s all it is, a fantasy. She’s not going to make it in dancing, with her
background she doesn’t stand a chance. After a while she will realize her
mistake, come back home and settle down.”
“But New York, Blake,” Veronica sighed. “It’s such a dangerous place.”
“I know,” Blake agreed. “That’s why I have arranged for Laura to go with
Danielle. She can keep and eye on her sister, keep us informed about what we
need to know, and in due time bring Danielle back home.”
“Now promise me,” Blake Hamilton said, as he kissed both his daughters
goodbye, “that if this dancing business doesn’t work out …”
“I know, I know,” Danielle cut her father off. “If the dancing business
doesn’t work out I am to come home. Don’t worry, Dad, it will work out, it has
to. Now promise me something … that you and Mom will come and watch
when I’m dancing my first show.”
Trying hard not to laugh, Blake and Veronica Hamilton nodded,
convinced this was one promise they would never have to keep.
Laura turned away from the painting, checked her gold diamond-set
wristwatch and got up from the cream velvet sofa.
“Danny, it’s almost 7:00,” she announced after a rap on her sister’s
bathroom door. “You better get moving or you will be late. Danny?”
“Mmm I’m coming, Laura,” came the sleepy reply. “Just give me a
minute.”
“A minute,” Laura cried irritated. “You’ve been in there for over half an
hour. Come on now, get ready.”
When she heard no movement Laura knocked again and stepped inside
the steamy room.
“Danielle! Have you forgotten that you have a 7:00 appointment with
Richard Benson? He’s the reporter from Rolling Stone, I told you about him.
He’s going to be here any minute.”
When Danielle finally made her way into the bedroom of her spacious
penthouse she found her sister looking at her in total horror.
“What?”
“You’re not seeing Mr. Benson dressed like that, are you?” Laura gasped,
looking at Danielle’s faded jeans, oversized white t-shirt, and white sneakers.
Danielle looked down at herself, not understanding why her sister was so
shocked. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Put on something nice,” Laura pleaded. “You have a dressing room full
of designer outfits. You could pick any of them and look stunning.”
Danielle shook her head. “No way. Here I’m at home and here I want to be
comfortable. If you think I’m going to get all dressed up for some stuffy
reporter coming to ask me a bunch of stupid questions, you’re wrong.”
She meant it. Laura could see that she did by the way she lit up a cigarette
and threw down the lighter.
“Alright,” Laura calmly stated. “It was only a suggestion.”
“I’m tired, Laura,” Danielle sighed. “I am so tired. I’ve been up since 6:00
this morning, I’m hungry, my back hurts, and my feet are killing me. But do
I get to rest or something to eat, no. I get rushed in and out of the bath because
of yet another interview.”
Precisely at 7:00 p.m. the telephone rang. Before even answering it Laura
knew it was the concierge announcing Richard Benson’s arrival.
“Do you want me to postpone the interview?”
“No let him come up,” Danielle said with another sigh. “I’ll be right
there.”
“Good evening, I’m Cliff Walters with Rolling Stone. Richard Benson
called earlier this week to confirm an interview with Miss Hamilton.”
Looking at the man in front of her, Laura remembered her sister’s words,
If you think I’m going to get all dressed up for some stuffy reporter, coming
to ask me a bunch of stupid questions, you’re wrong. This was one reporter
who was anything but stuffy and she doubted it if a stupid question ever
passed his lips. Formally dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit, white shirt
and red silk tie he looked like a lawyer, sharp and confident. Not a young man
anymore, maybe 50-something, but definitely still very attractive.
“What happened to Richard Benson?” Laura asked.
“He had a little accident down at the office,” Cliff Walters said. “I’ve been
asked to cover his assignment.” With this he produced identification, which
Laura carefully inspected.
“Come on in,” she smiled. “I’m Laura Hamilton. I’ll let Danielle know
that you’re here. Have a seat.”
Unbuttoning his jacked Cliff Walters made himself comfortable in one of
the big lounge chairs, took out his tape recorder and looked around the room.
Nice place, he thought, and let his eyes sweep over the interior. Peach colored
wall to wall carpets and curtains; a cream colored velvet lounge suit; pale oak
cabinets and dining room; various lampshades spreading a warm glow over
flower arrangements in crystal vases; three huge oil paintings, the scene on
the canvas enhanced by spotlights strategically positioned from the ceiling.
Miss Hamilton had expensive taste and obviously enough money to surround
herself with exclusive pieces of art. Curiosity made him turn in his seat to
view what lay behind him, and was struck by her portrait in an alcove. Gazing
at the painting Cliff Walters wondered if Danielle Hamilton was really this
beautiful, or if the artist was just extraordinary talented. Heaving a sigh he
wondered why he agreed to do this interview. He dealt with serious artists,
not show business brats. To Cliff Walters, Danielle Hamilton was the worst.
A rich kid whose life was and always had been one big bed of roses. Whose
career on Broadway was a joke. Daddy probably arranged that she was the
lead dancer of the Fame Dance Company. Daddy being Blake Hamilton,
Managing Director and Chairman of the Board of Hamilton Enterprises, a
construction company with numerous buildings all over the United States. He
checked his wristwatch. She was keeping him waiting. He had been sitting
here for at least 15 minutes and if she didn’t show up within the next 5 he was
leaving. Big Broadway star or not. Tired of sitting he got up and walked over
to one of the windows overlooking Central Park.
“Why did you have to break your leg, Richard?” he murmured. “And why
of all people did I have to get stuck with your assignment?”
His colleague had been looking forward to this interview. Even since the
arrangements were made he had been raving about Danielle Hamilton, whom
he adored and was now finally going to meet face to face. In his excitement
he had not seen the waste paper basket next to his desk, an obstacle that made
him land on the floor, breaking his leg and so ruining his big chance. Cliff
shook his head, as he watched the traffic far below him, life was not fair.
Richard would have given anything to do this interview, he would have given
anything not to.
“Mr. Walters. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
A soft melodic voice made him turn around. Taking one deep breath after
another Cliff Walters found himself staring at a young woman so lovely she
left him speechless. This was not the Danielle Hamilton he had seen on
posters and in magazines. This was not the glamorous Broadway star. This
was an ordinary woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but still
an ordinary woman. She looked so sweet, so fragile. And he sure as hell had
never seen anyone look this good in jeans and T-shirt.
“Miss Hamilton,” he said, clearing his throat. “I was just admiring the
view.”
She looked in the direction of the window. “It is quite breathtaking, isn’t
it?”
Not as breathtaking as you are, he thought, but didn’t say anything.
“Please, sit down,” Danielle said, gesturing towards the lounge suite. “Can
I fix you a drink?”
“Scotch, please.”
He watched her every move as she seemed to float to the bar, take two
glasses, put some ice in them, then fill one glass with golden scotch out of a
crystal decanter, and the other with orange juice. She was controlled in
everything she did, gracious and sensual. She walked as straight as a candle,
proud and conscious, with slight waving hips.
After she had given him his glass she seated herself on the sofa, pulled her
legs under her, threw her hair back and awaited his first question.
“Miss Hamilton …”
“Danielle,” she interrupted him. “Please, call me Danielle.”
Cliff Walters nodded indulgently. “All right, Danielle, do you mind if I
use a tape recorder? I’m no good at shorthand.”
A gesture of her hand told him it made no difference to her.
“Rumor has it that you are leaving Broadway. Any truth to that?”
“Yes and no,” Danielle said. “I’m going on a tour through Europe with my
dance company, but after the tour it’s back to New York. I love Broadway too
much, and I’ve worked too hard to get where I am today to just leave.”
“Excuse me for saying so,” Cliff Walters hesitated, “you say you worked
hard to get where you are, but didn’t your father play a major role in your
acceptance to the theatre?”
“You know my father?”
“Who doesn’t? The name Blake Hamilton is known all over the States.”
“And so you think that just because I’m Blake Hamilton’s daughter I was
presented my career on a silver platter. Mmm, I suppose I can’t blame you for
thinking that. My father’s name does open a lot of doors for a lot of people,
but that was not the case where my career was concerned. As a matter of fact,
my father was very much opposed to my plans. He didn’t think a dancing
career was respectable enough.”
“But you went for it anyway.”
“Yes, I did. Dancing professionally was always my ambition and nothing
and nobody was going to stop me.”
“So you really made in on your own?”
Danielle turned pensive. “I had a lot of help, from a lot of people.”
“Like?”
“My sister, my manager, my friends.”
Leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees, Cliff Walters rested his
chin on his entwined fingers. “Tell me about those early years.”
Danielle lit up a cigarette, took a slow drag and thoughtfully blew the
smoke in the air. “What’s to tell? I was like every other dancer who ever came
to New York. I didn’t expect to be hired right away, but neither did I expect
to go from one audition to another ending up with nothing but frustration. I
was just a dancer amongst dancers, another face in the crowd. It was tough,
believe me, and we faced some tough times.”
“We?”
“My sister came with me to New York and I can honestly say that, if it
hadn’t been for Laura, I never would have made it. When we ran out of
money, she got a job. I wanted to get a job too, but she said it wouldn’t be
practical for me to work. It would interfere with my dance classes and
auditions.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Guilty, moody, depressed, and more than once, ready to give up.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Laura wouldn’t let me. She told me over and over again to be patient, to
give it time, that something would come up.”
“And it did.”
With a smile around her mouth Danielle nodded.
As Danielle’s story unfolded in the living room, Laura listened from her
sister’s bedroom, having some reflections of her own.
Negative as she had been at first about her sister’s future as a dancer, after
accompanying Danielle to the dance studio a couple of times and seeing her
in action she was convinced that it was only a matter of time before someone
noticed that talent. Even with limited dance training Danielle was amazing.
Maybe it was because she did not have years of formal training that she was
so unique. She was the proverbial diamond in the rough.
But being noticed took longer than expected and when Danielle’s savings
ran out, Laura had taken a job. They had to make do with very little money,
but strapped for cash as they were, come Saturday night they would go to the
theatre. It was heartbreaking to see Danielle watching the dancers on stage.
She so much longed to be one of them. She did not just watch a show, she got
absorbed by it. Laura had to admit, such performances were fascinating and
exciting. The music, the lights, costumes and décor, and of course, the
dancers themselves. Beautiful people with lean bodies, light on their feet,
creating magic. She could well imagine her sister wanting to be part of that
magic.
The day before the six-month time limit expired they sat at the kitchen
table, Danielle staring into her coffee mug. “Tomorrow is November 1st,” she
suddenly said. “I suppose you’re relieved that we’re going home. You were
right, I couldn’t make it.”
“And since then I have told you how many times that you can make it,”
Laura retorted. “Forget what I said back home. Even though you’ve had
limited training you are one hell of a dancer, Danny. And as I told you before,
all you need is time.”
Danielle let out a deep sigh. “Time’s up and I’ve given up.”
She had looked so depressed. Coffee mug in hand she had moved to the
broad windowsill and in the moonlight Laura had noticed tears rolling down
her face.
“Don’t cry,” she comforted. “We don’t have to go home right away. We
can stay another week, or even a month.”
“Why?” Danielle sobbed. “So I can go to yet another audition and get
turned down? No thanks I’ve had enough. And I can’t let you go on
supporting me. You’re working, I’m doing nothing; it’s not fair on you.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Laura smiled. “I’m having a ball.”
Seeing the look of confusion on her sister’s face Laura explained.
“Danny, I’m 25 years old, but it wasn’t until I came to New York with you that
I started living. We might not have much money, but look at us, we have our
own apartment, we have friends, and we are free. Maybe it’s different for you
Danny, having lived in Switzerland and France, but I sure don’t regret leaving
home and I’m in no hurry to go back there.”
Laura suddenly realized that the mention of France might stir memories of
Alain Bertrand for her sister. Was she thinking of him now? Was she thinking
that she had left him for nothing? She wished she could think of something to
say, something to make her sister feel better.
“Let’s get out of here,” she suggested. “Let’s go for a drink or see a
movie.”
Danielle slowly and despondently shook her head.
Laura tried again. “I know you don’t feel like doing anything honey, but
what are you going to do? Sit there all night, feeling sorry for yourself?”
“You go,” Danielle whispered. “I’m going to the studio, one last time.”
It was heartbreaking. Laura realized that her sister was not only about to
say goodbye to the studio manager, but to her hopes and dreams. She couldn’t
let her go alone.
For her last dance she expected her sister to choose some slow music at the
studio, something to suit her depressed mood, but instead Danielle put on
Giving Up, Giving In, a dynamic number by The Three Degrees. The dance
left little or nothing to the imagination. Danielle was angry, frustrated and
rebellious and her whole body but especially her feet spoke an aggressive
language. It was a dance that was to change her future.
“That must have been one hell of a dance,” Cliff Walters nodded, as
Danielle told him her version of the story.
She nodded with a smile. “Yes, it was.”
“Then what happened?”
“That’s a long story.”
Cliff Walters settled back in his chair. “I’ve got the time if you do.”
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 beats 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 theatre 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 theatre, 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,space for lots of flower pots 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.”
Chapter 2
“Are you nervous?” Steve asked, placing a comforting hand on Danielle’s
shoulder. “You probably feel a few butterflies in your stomach, right?”
“Butterflies,” Danielle said, eyebrows shooting up, “try giant moths!”
They laughed out loud, relieving some of the tension that had been
building up for hours.
“It’s quite normal to be nervous,” Steve calmly stated. “This being your
first audition.”
“You mean my first private audition,” Danielle corrected. “I’ve been to
plenty of auditions over the past few months, but this is the first time I’m
going to dance by invitation.” Smiling gratefully she added “Thanks Steve,
thank you for arranging this for me.”
The little kiss she planted on his cheek made him smile. “It was nothing,
and this does not guarantee anything. It is up to you to convince the
choreographer out there to hire you.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Steve shrugged his shoulders. “There are plenty of theatres on Broadway,
and you know the saying . If at first we don’t succeed, we try and try again.
Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Do they know what music to play?”
“Everything is arranged,” Steve assured her. “Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry, yeah right, as if she could manage that. Ever since Steve had
told Danielle about this audition she had been a bundle of nerves. Last night
she had not been able to sleep, and this morning it had been impossible to eat
breakfast.
“What are you so worried about?” Laura had asked. “It’s not like you’ve
never done this before.”
That was true, she had been to auditions before, but there was one hell of
a difference between a public audition and a private one. Instead of being a
dancer amongst dancers, she would be alone on stage now. Alone … on that
big empty stage … the thought of it made her stomach turn and her blood run
cold.
“I know I’m good, and you agreed with me,” she turned to Steve, “but am
I good enough?”
Before he could answer a voice called her name.
Seeing Danielle walk away Steve hoped this audition would work out for
her. She was under the impression that he had done so much for her, but he
hadn’t done anything really. All he had done was make a phone call.
Knowing, of course, that a request from him would immediately be granted.
But Danielle seemed to have no idea what she had done for him. Two months
ago she had come into his life and changed it. With her optimism,
cheerfulness, clear voice and funny giggles she had brought warmth and
happiness into his house and his heart. Working with her had given him a
reason to get up in the morning, along with a feeling of being useful again.
Tired and annoyed, Victor Campbell turned a page on his clipboard, ready
to see the next dancer. Having seen 15 dancers that morning he had seen
enough. They had been good, but that was just the problem, they were only
good but nothing special. The next one was Danielle Hamilton, 21 years old,
and protégé of Steve Savage. It had been a shock to hear from Steve again.
After his accident he had disappeared and it was everyone’s opinion that he
had retired. Now after 3 years of silence Steve’s call came … if he would do
him a favor and look at a promising young dancer he found. Lighting a
cigarette Victor thought it was more likely that the young dancer had found
Steve Savage.
Sure he would do him the favor of auditioning his so-called protégé, that
did not mean he would hire her. As a matter of fact, he had no intention of
hiring her. He hated girls who used influential men as their ticket to the stage.
He would rather take someone off the street than work with one of those
manipulating bitches who would do anything to get into a show.
When Danielle heard her name being called she took a deep breath and
stepped out of the side wing onto the stage. The lump in her throat suddenly
grew bigger, her knees seemed to turn to jelly, and she started shaking
uncontrollably. Her heart was pounding as she reached center stage, unable
to see anything beyond the footlights.
“Are you ready?” A man’s voice asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
In the few seconds of deadly silence that followed, Danielle lowered her
head, closed her eyes, and let everything around her disappear. When the
music started she let her mind drift away, listening with her heart, uniting
with the rhythm.
From the side wing of the stage Steve watched as Danielle started to move,
following his instructions to the letter. She had practiced this routine over and
over again, perfecting every step and every arm movement. He expected
Danielle to make some mistakes, considering her nervousness, but she
surprised him with a perfect performance. He remembered her question …
Am I good enough? Heavens, she was more than good enough, she exceeded
his expectations.
It wasn’t long before Victor Campbell rose from his relaxed position in his
chair to sit up straight. Fascinated by what he saw he leaned his arms on the
seat in front of him, not noticing that his clipboard fell to the floor. This girl
had it all: style, grace, speed and endurance. In 15 years as a choreographer
he had seen a lot of talented dancers, but this one was something new.
Something about this girl gave him shivers. He had to have her, whatever her
involvement with Steve Savage. She had come to him for work, and he would
be a fool not to hire her.
“Thank you,” he said as Danielle finished. In a slow pace he walked up to
the stage. “Danielle Hamilton, right?”
“Right.”
“That was quite a performance.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you liked it.”
He looked at her, thinking how beautiful she was. Even without make-up,
except for some pale lipstick, and with beads of perspiration on her forehead
she still looked exquisite.
“Who represents you, Miss Hamilton?”
“I do.”
Victor Campbell turned to see a man coming towards him, recognizing
him as Steve Savage. “Steve,” he said, trying hard not to stare at his facial
scars. “It’s really you. How have you been?”
“I’m well, thanks,” Steve smiled.” How about you?”
“Can’t complain. God I can’t believe it’s really you. I haven’t seen you in
what … 3 years?”
“I had a rather bad accident.”
“Yes, yes,” Victor nodded. “I read about it in the paper. Happened in Los
Angeles didn’t it? A very unfortunate thing.” Clapping his hands together he
smiled. “So, did you teach this young lady to dance?”
With a tender smile Steve looked up to Danielle who was still on the stage.
“I wish I could take credit for that, but I can’t. We have been working together
yes, but as far as her dancing is concerned … she’s a natural. Go and get
changed,” he instructed her, “I’ll see you in the car.”
Victor looked from one to the other. Strange pair they were. Talk about
your beauty and the beast.
Danielle smiled, excused herself and walked away.
Back in the car Danielle anxiously awaited Steve’s return.
“How did it go, Miss Danielle?” Oscar turned to the back of the limousine.
“I don’t know, Oscar,” she sighed. “I think I could have done better.”
They waited in silence. Minutes seemed like hours. When Steve was
finally seen leaving the theatre Oscar got out of the driver’s seat, walked
around the car and held open the back door.
Once he sat next to her, Danielle expected him to say something, but he
didn’t. She glanced at him, he did not smile, but then he rarely did.
“And?” she asked, unable to control herself any longer.
He turned to her, giving her a long examining look.
She had not been successful, she could see it. He was looking for the right
words to break the news. Why had she thought this audition would be any
different from the others? Why had she hoped? Why had she been so foolish
to think that she could compete with professional dancers? Devastated she
lowered her head as tears sprang to her eyes.
“You can forget about your dream of dancing on Broadway,” she heard
Steve say, then after a short pause “and start concentrating on reality.
Rehearsals for the new show start on February 1st, 9:00 sharp. Don’t be late.”
Danielle looked up to him, not understanding. Then her eyes grew bigger
and a smile more radiant than Steve had ever seen lit up her face.
“He hired me? You’re serious? Oh Steve, that’s wonderful.”
In a spontaneous reaction she threw her arms around his neck and kissed
him on the cheek. “Thank you so very, very, very much!”
“No need to thank me,” Steve said. “You did all the work.”
Danielle looked at him at arms length. “That might be so, but I couldn’t
have done it without you.”
Hugging him lovingly she kissed him again.
“Congratulations, Miss Danielle,” Oscar beamed, as he once again turned
in his seat. “I knew you had nothing to worry about.”
“Let’s go home, Oscar,” Steve instructed, then turned to Danielle
“Tonight we are going to celebrate.”
Steve was not quite sure why, but ever since Danielle and Laura had come
to live with him, his facial scars did not worry him as much as they used to.
Sure he had noticed how shocked Victor Campbell had been when he first
saw him, but it did not bother him. His scars had never seemed to bother
Danielle and Laura. He never caught them staring at him, he never caught a
whisper about him, and they certainly did not seem horrified by him. Why,
Danielle had kissed him on his bad cheek, twice. If she and Laura could
accept him as he was, then maybe so could the rest of the world. Going in
public again would be a big step for him, but he would do it, for Danielle.
At the house Laura had been on the look out for the car, and when she
noticed it pulling up the driveway she ran outside.
“And?” she asked the moment the car stood still.
“I’m hired,” Danielle cried for the whole neighborhood to hear. “Can you
believe it? They hired me. I’m going to dance in the Lincoln Center.
The Lincoln Center, Laura, the best theatre on Broadway! My dream has
come true!”
Steve and Oscar watched in amusement as the two girls, clearly beside
themselves, fell in each other’s arms and jumped with joy.
“And tonight we’re going out celebrating,” Danielle announced. “Steve is
taking us out.”
“Us? You mean me too?”
Danielle looked at her sister in amazement. “Of course you too. If it wasn’t
for you and your support I wouldn’t be here.”
“Girls,” Hanna, the housekeeper, warned as Danielle and Laura ran into
the house and flew up the stairs. “Be careful, you’ll hurt yourselves.”
“Oh Hanna,” Danielle laughed, rushing back down. “You’ll never guess
what happened.”
“But I do, dear,” the plump elderly lady smiled. “I heard the good news
when you told your sister. You are going to dance on Broadway.”
“I am, I am,” Danielle sang as she took Hanna’s hands and danced with her
across the hall.
“All the more reason to be careful, dear,” Hanna said, pressing a hand
against her ample bosom when they had stopped twirling. “You don’t want
anything to happen now.”
But Danielle didn’t listen. After kissing the gray-haired lady on the cheek
she raced up the stairs again, where she and Laura giggling disappeared into
her bedroom.
Smiling Hanna shook her head. There was no talking sense to those two.
They were like little children.
“Would you like me to prepare something special for tonight, Mr.
Savage?” She turned to her employer.
“That’s a nice thought, Hanna,” Steve smiled, “but that won’t be
necessary. I’m taking the girls out.”
“You’re going out?” Hanna asked in disbelief. “But you never go out.”
“I am tonight.”
Finally, Hanna thought, her smile broadening. It’s about time Mr. Savage
started living again. Thank you, Danielle.
Hanna had seen a lot of changes in her employer in the last couple of
weeks. He came down to breakfast every morning clean-shaven, wearing
matching clothes, and on occasion she had even heard him whistling. The
house and its owner had come alive since the girls had moved in, and she
loved them for it. For the past 3 years Mr. Savage had lived like a hermit.
Except for an occasional theatre visit he never went anywhere, and never
received anyone. She knew he was embarrassed about his scars, and often
wished she had the courage to tell him they didn’t look so bad. If one could
look past the scars one could even call him attractive. At 34, standing six feet
five inches, Steve Savage was an impressive man with a muscular build,
expressive dark brown eyes, and luxurious black hair. He was kind,
considerate, attentive, charming, and extremely polite. He was an Italian
through and through and Hanna loved him like a son. She had never
understood how Mrs. Savage could have been so horrible to Mr. Savage.
Moving out of their bedroom the night Mr. Savage came home from the
hospital after his accident, avoiding him at meal times, refusing their friends
to come to the house. What a horrible woman she had been. The news that she
was moving out had not upset Hanna at all, if anything, she had packed for her
mistress at the speed of lightning. It had broken her heart though to see how
Mr. Savage mourned her departure. That, together with the loss of his friends
and his business had almost destroyed him. Finding himself alone he had,
except for her and Oscar, dismissed the servants, abandoned his beautiful
estate, and moved into this cottage. Smiling she remembered the arrival of
Danielle and Laura, and how surprised she had been to see the girls coming
down the stairs one morning. All these years Mr. Savage had shown no
interest in a female companion, and now there were two of them! The reason
for their stay however had become obvious from day one. Danielle was an
aspiring dancer, and Mr. Savage was going to work with her. Laura’s part in
all this was not clear at first, but Hanna did not doubt that Mr. Savage had
plans with her too.
Later that evening, when Hanna saw Danielle and Laura coming down the
stairs in their evening gowns, she clasped her hands together in admiration.
“How do we look, Hanna?” Danielle pirouetted in front of her.
“Child,” she smiled, “if I were 30 years younger, and 60 pounds lighter, I
would ask if I could borrow those dresses one night. You two look fabulous!”
Admiring Laura’s flared green velvet, and Danielle’s tight-fitting black
silk gown she wondered out loud “Where did you find these?”
“On our beds,” Danielle explained, and then turned to Steve with a frown.
“How did you know there would be something to celebrate? And how did you
know our sizes?”
She saw him glancing at Laura. “Confidence, my dear, sheer confidence.”
“You’re looking mighty nice too, Mr. Savage,” Hanna turned to her
employer. Danielle and Laura nodded in agreement. Steve looked absolutely
dashing in his tuxedo.
Embarrassed but pleased with the compliment and the looks he got, Steve
proffered Danielle and Laura an arm and asked, “Are you girls ready?”
“After hours of preparation I would say so,” Danielle said, checking her
look in the hall mirror. “Where are you taking us anyway?”
“To the only place suitable for the occasion … Broadway,” Steve smiled.
“Tonight I’m going to show you a glimpse of your future.”
Chapter 3
Highland, home to the Hamiltons and the most impressive mansion in
Beverly Hills. Surrounded by trees and shrubs and thousands of flowers, the
white walls and black slate roof were in sharp contrast with its colorful
surroundings. Highland was as beautiful as it was majestic.
Tourist buses made it their last stop. By they had seen every celebrity
home in the area, but none of them could compare with the elegance of
Highland. The exited chatter turned silent at first sight of it. They stared,
exclaimed whispered admirations, photographed and fell in love with this
magnificent estate.
On this particular day the tourists were in luck. The black wrought-iron
gates opened for a sleek black limousine, gliding along the rose-bordered
driveway, coming to a stop in front of the moon-shaped, pillar-supported
entrance. Two young women got out of the limousine and rushed, after
greeting the butler, up the steps that led to the white painted front door.
“Anyone we know?” one of the tourist asked as they all peered through
their binoculars and zoom lenses.
But nobody knew Danielle and Laura Hamilton. Not yet.
If Danielle thought her parents were going to congratulate her,she was sadly
mistaken. The news of the audition and her subsequently being hired in the
chorus of a Broadway show made her father’s eye twitch and her mother
nearly faint.
“Danielle, in my study,” her father commanded. “There is no need to upset
your mother any further.”
Inside the oak panelled room, 50-year-old Blake Hamilton, president and
C.E.O. of Hamilton Enterprises, sat down behind his solid oak desk and
indicated his daughter to take a seat in one of the leather chairs opposite him.
“You realize, of course, that this dancing business is out of the question.”
He came straight to the point.
“Why?” Danielle demanded.
“Why? I’ll tell you why,” Blake said, raising his voice. “No daughter of
mine is going to turn herself into a showgirl.”
“I am not going to perform in some sleazy bar, Dad,” Danielle defended.
“I’m going to be a respectable dancer in a respectable theatre. You’ve been to
Broadway shows, you know what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, I do,” Blake Hamilton nodded. “And such a career might be right for
other girls, but not for you. You were educated in Switzerland and you
obtained a law degree for heaven’s sake. Do you really think I will let you
throw all that away on some … some … dancing thing.”
“I didn’t ask to be sent to Switzerland, Dad,” Danielle threw back. “And
I certainly didn’t want to become a lawyer. Ever since I was little I dreamed
about being a dancer, you know that, and now I have to chance to make that
dream come true.”
“We can’t always have what we want,” Blake Hamilton said. “Now,
you’ve had your fun and now I want you to come and join Hamilton
Enterprises like your brothers. You have the knowledge, all you need is some
experience and in a few years you might be head of the legal department. Are
we in agreement?”
Danielle could not have been more disappointed. When Steve had
surprised her and Laura with tickets to go to Los Angeles she had jumped
with joy. The trip would only be for a week, but Steve had said she deserved
a vacation before joining the dance company. She had been so happy about
going home, about the fact that she would be able to tell her parents
personally about her good fortune rather than on the phone. Now she felt
sorry she even came here. Her parents were far from thrilled with her news.
“Are we in agreement?”She heard her father ask again.
Danielle took a deep breath. “No, Dad, we are not. All my life I have tried
to please you. Now it’s time I did something for myself. I have a chance to
dance on Broadway and I am not going to turn my back on it. No way.”
“And I’m telling you I won’t allow it.” Blake Hamilton smacked his fist
on his desk. “I won’t have you making a fool of yourself.”
“I am not going to make a fool of myself, Dad,” Danielle launched herself
into defense again. “I’m going to be a respectable dancer.”
“A respectable dancer,” Blake honed. To him there was no such thing.
“If you’re so much against a career in dancing, why did you let me take
dance lessons in the first place?” Danielle asked.
“You had an accident, darling,” Blake explained. “Do you remember
that? A car hit you. You were in therapy for a while and then the specialist
recommended dancing. The exercise would do you good. Heaven knows we
never expected you would take it all so seriously.”
Danielle did remember. She had taken ballet lessons and later switched to
contemporary dancing. She had done very well and won a number of junior
dance competitions.
“Then why did you let me go to New York?” she asked her father. “If you
were so dead set against a dancing career, why did you let me go?”
Why indeed, Blake Hamilton heaved a sigh. That was where he had made
his first mistake. He never should have allowed her going off. If he had put his
foot down from the beginning, none of this would be happening.
When her father didn’t answer, Danielle made a guess. “You never
expected me to make it, did you?”
“That’s right,” Blake Hamilton admitted. “I didn’t think you would make
it. I thought you were chasing a silly dream. I let you go because I knew that,
if I stopped you, you would forever wonder about what might have been for
the rest of your life. The way I saw it, you would quickly realize that dreaming
and reality were two different things. Then you would come back here and
settle down. Who the hell knew you would actually get hired!”
Looking at her father Danielle didn’t know whether to feel flattered or
hurt. “But I did get hired, Dad,” she said. “And now all my dreams are going
to come true. I’m going to dance, on a stage. Can you imagine, the excitement,
the lights, the music, the applause?”
As her voice trailed off Blake Hamilton couldn’t help but notice the
sparkle in her eyes. “I admit that being in an office and a courtroom is not
quite the same as being on a stage,” he said, “but don’t you think that winning
a legal case can be just as exciting?”
“It’s not what I want, Dad,” Danielle pleaded. “I want to be a dancer.”
Blake Hamilton realized there was no reasoning with his youngest. She
had her heart set on a dancing career and nothing or nobody was going to
change her mind. She was a Hamilton all right, stubborn through and through.
“And the family name,” Blake Hamilton said. “Does the fact that you
could disgrace the family name mean nothing to you?”
“Disgrace it! I’m not going to disgrace the Hamilton name,” Danielle
defended with pride. “If anything I’m going to make our name more famous
than it already is. Put it in lights.”
“In lights! Sweetheart, chorus girls don’t get their name in lights,” Blake
laughed. “What are you thinking?”
Danielle didn’t think it was funny at all. “I’m not planning on being a
chorus girl all my life, Dad. I want to make it big, become a lead dancer.”
“A lead dancer!” In desperation Blake threw his hands up in the air. Now
he’d heard it all. His girl had her head stuck in the clouds and had lost all touch
with reality. He looked at her, she was such a dreamer. She hadn’t even
started with the chorus yet and already she had visions of being the star of the
show. She had such high hopes, such unreal expectations.
“All right then,” Blake waived a hand. “If it means that much to you, go
for it.”
Danielle jumped to her feet and hugged her father. As important as
dancing was to her, she would never be able to fully enjoy it without her
father’s approval.
Watching her walk away Blake Hamilton sighed and wondered about the
future of his youngest. A lead dancer … oh well, stranger things had
happened. Just a few months ago he had thought she would never make it into
a chorus, and look how that turned out. In a way Danielle reminded him of
himself at an early age. His father who had worked as an accountant in a bank
all his life and had wanted for his only son to follow in his footsteps, but Blake
had other plans. He didn’t want to work for a bank, he wanted to design a
bank, a hotel, a high-rise office block. His father had merely shaken his head
and declared him crazy for having such ambitions. Today, 30 years later,
Blake Hamilton was a multimillionaire and Hamilton Enterprises was
recognized all over the United States as the name in architecture.
Moments after Veronica Hamilton saw her daughter leave her husband’s
study she knocked on the door and stepped inside. “Did you talk to Danielle?
Is she changing her mind?
“No, she’s not,” Blake replied. “Our daughter is going to be a Broadway
dancer.”
The tall, elegantly dressed woman’s eyes filled with horror. “She’s going
back to New York! She’s not joining the family business?”
“No, she’s going to dance for a living.”
“Blake, how could you let this happen?” she demanded.
“Darling, there’s nothing I could do,” Blake put up his hands in defence.
“Danielle is over 21, she’s a grown woman who makes her own decisions.”
“Well, if you ask me it’s the wrong decision,” Veronica said, setting
herself down. “Imagine, our daughter a dancer!”
“Vicky, I’m not thrilled with the idea either,” Blake admitted. “But you
know Danielle, once she sets her mind on something she’s like a bulldog, she
doesn’t let go.”
Veronica Hamilton shook her head. “You disappoint me, Blake. I don’t
understand you. As president of the company you manage hundreds of people
and millions of dollars, but you can’t manage a 21-year-old girl.”
“If memory serves me correctly you couldn’t be managed either at her
age,” Blake recalled. “Remember how your parents were opposed to you
marrying a junior draftsman with nothing to offer but dreams and schemes.
But you married me anyway.”
“That’s not the same, Blake,” Veronica said, getting up and pacing the
room. “Maybe it’s time I had a little talk with our daughter.”
Blake rubbed his chin. “Maybe it is, but don’t get your hopes up.”
After his wife had left Blake sat and gazed at the gold-framed family
picture he kept on his desk. Veronica and their five children — Harry, Carl,
Laura and the twins Tony and Danielle. His eyes lingered on Danielle, his
little princess. He had to hand it to her … she had guts. Standing up to him,
leaving a life a luxury to go and live in New York, pursuing a dream. She was
different from the others.
“Are you coming, Dad?” Laura stuck her head around the door. “Lunch is
about to be served.”
“In a moment, Laura,” Blake nodded. “Come in and have a seat, I want to
talk to you.”
Laura had a pretty good idea what here father wanted to talk about. She
softly closed the door behind her and perched on the edge of a chair.
“How are things going in New York?”
“Very well, Dad, nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about, huh. From the letters we received from you,
your mother and I were under the impression that things weren’t going all that
well.”
Seeing the look on Laura’s face he added, “It wasn’t what you wrote, it
was what you didn’t write. You never mentioned a successful audition.”
“It was a last minute thing, Dad.”
“I see,” Blake Hamilton said, raising his eyebrows. “But I’d like to know
what exactly is going on?”
“Nothing is going on, Dad,” Laura assured her father. “It’s true, at first
Danielle didn’t have any luck, and we went through a rough time, but then her
luck changed.”
“Her luck changed?”
“Yes, she went to this audition and got hired.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that.”
Blake didn’t ask anything further although the issue presented some
questions. He knew Laura, she couldn’t look him in the eye and that could
only mean she was hiding something. She was perhaps hiding more than one
thing, like the address changes he had noticed over the past few months.
Unknown to Laura he knew New York well enough to recognize their first
address as one being in the center of Manhattan. After only a few weeks they
had moved to Brooklyn. He suspected they found New York to be more
expensive than expected and awaited their request for more funds. But the
weeks turned into months and they were obviously getting by without his
financial support. After yet another address change there was another, this
time in the most exclusive area in Connecticut. Something was not right, with
the audition and the address changes and he was going to get to the bottom of
it.
Laura watched her father. She could see that he was not satisfied with her
answers. She hated secrets but she had promised Danielle she would not
mention Steve Savage.
“Mom and Dad will never understand about Steve,” Danielle had said.
“How are we going to explain living in his house? They will think something
is going on.”
Laura had to admit Danielle was right, Mom and Dad would not approve
of their living arrangements, more, they wouldn’t allow it. Steve had been
nothing but a perfect gentleman with her and Danielle, but would they believe
that?
“Come on,” she said in an attempt to distract her father’s thoughts. “Lunch
is waiting.”
The next morning Blake and Veronica Hamilton were waiting in the
breakfast room.
“Help yourselves to some coffee and eggs,” Blake suggested as the girls
came in.
“We were actually on our way out, Dad,” Danielle tried to avoid the
confrontation.
“Danielle, sit,” Veronica joined in. “Your father and I want to talk to you.”
“It’s about your life in New York,” Blake said setting his coffee cup down.
“Your mother and I have been discussing your future career and we want you
to know that we support you in your decision. However, there are one or two
things that we would like cleared up. First of all, I allowed you six months to
pursue a dancing career, but you come home after eight. You two are not the
kind to dishonour a commitment. I would like to know why you added two
months to the time limit?”
“Because the night before the time limit expired everything changed,”
Danielle explained.
“Yes,” Blake nodded. “Laura told me something like that, your luck
apparently changed.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Don’t give me that Danielle,” Blake closed his eyes and shook his head.
“If you were hired for the chorus two months ago why do we only get to hear
about it now? Surely you would have wanted to share such exciting news, but
there was no phone call and Laura mentioned nothing in her letters. Now
what is going on?”
Danielle glanced at her sister then turned to her parents.
“I didn’t exactly get hired two months ago, I got hired two days ago. But
the reason I didn’t come home two months ago is because around that time I
met someone, someone influential, and I got a chance to prove myself.”
“Danielle,” Blake sighed with annoyance, “you’re speaking but you’re
not saying anything.”
“All right then,” Danielle nodded, knowing that her story sounded weak.
“I met a man. I was in the dance studio one night, the last night of the six
months actually, he came in, promised to help me and did. He took us into his
home, trained me and when I was ready he arranged an audition for me.”
“He took you into his home!” Blake bellowed in shock, rising to his feet.
“Are you telling me you two are living with this man? That you went to a
stranger’s house on the night that you met him!”
Knowing that it sounded like a stupid thing to do Danielle nodded timidly.
“Are you crazy!” Blake burst out in anger. “Are you really out of your
mind! Moving in with a stranger, a man you know nothing about.” Wild eyed
he looked over at his wife who sat shaking her head in disbelief.
Knowing that she had put the cat amongst the pigeons Danielle kept her
head down and glanced over at her sister for help.
“Have you taken leave of your senses, girl?” her mother asked a lot calmer
than she felt.
“You don’t understand,” Danielle cried flying out of her seat. “You don’t
know what it was like. Our lives were miserable. We lived in a crummy one
bedroom apartment, we were hungry and we were cold. I couldn’t take it
anymore.” Looking at her sister she added, “I couldn’t do it to Laura
anymore.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Veronica said. “We would have
helped.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Danielle disagreed with violent shake of her head.
“You would have insisted we come home. I wasn’t ready for that.”
“So you went and hooked up with a stranger?”
“I knew I could trust Steve,” Danielle defended. “It was just one of those
things.”
“She’s right, Dad,” Laura said. “Steve can be trusted. I must admit that I
was a bit wary of living with him at first, but Steve has been nothing but a
perfect gentleman.”
“I don’t believe you girls,” Blake slammed a hand on the table, then turned
to his wife. “Can you figure these two out? They meet a man, and because he
promises to help with a dancing career they go home with him. A total
stranger!”
“Blake, think of your blood pressure,” Veronica warned, seeing her
husband red faced and white knuckled.
“Steve wasn’t exactly a total stranger, Dad,” Danielle explained as her
father had calmed down a bit. “As soon as Steve introduced himself I knew
who I was dealing with.”
“Steve. Does this Steve have a surname?”
“Savage,” Danielle said. “His name is Steve Savage.”
Both Danielle and Laura noticed how their parents shot a glance at each
other.
“Do you know Steve Savage?”
Another glance.
“He used to be the manager on Broadway. Then he had a car accident and
retired.”
“Is that what he told you?” Blake asked.
“No, Dad, I’ve known this for some time,” Danielle supplied. “They do
have The New York Times in Paris and Steve’s name was regularly in the
papers in association with all the major Broadway stars. Then one day there
was the announcement that he had been in a car accident.”
“And has Mr. Savage ever mentioned this accident to you?” Blake asked.
Danielle shook her head. “No, he never talks about it.”
Seeing a look of concern in her parent’s eyes, Danielle sat down again.
“There’s really no need to worry. Steve is a very nice man, he helped me a lot
and we are completely safe with him.”
Danielle prepared herself for more questions, but none came. Her father
ate what was left of his breakfast in silence, while her mother suddenly took
a great interest in what was left of her coffee.
When the butler came to announce that there was phone call for Mrs.
Hamilton, Veronica said she would take it in the living room and left the
table.
She had not even reached the door when Blake excused himself too. “I
better get to the office” he smiled. “Have a nice day and I’ll see you tonight.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Danielle said, lighting a cigarette. “Can you
believe those two? First they practically bit my head off and declared me as
insane for moving in with a stranger, then I mention Steve’s name and
suddenly everything is okay.”
Laura nodded. “And did you notice the way they looked at each other
when you mentioned Steve’s name?”
“You saw it, too?” Danielle said with a jerk of her head. “I thought I just
imagined it, but if you noticed it too then there really was something.”
Laura tapped her long nails on the wood of the table. “There’s something
they’re not telling us Danny,” she said. “Do you think they’re …”
“Hiding something?” Danielle said reaching for an ashtray. “Definitely.”
Laura Hamilton gazed at the woman in the painting. Her captured features
were so true to life it was almost frightening. The glow of her peachy skin, big
brown eyes with long thick lashes under shapely brows, a fine straight nose,
sensual moist red lips, and a mass of lustrous wavy blond hair. Resting her
chin in the palm of her hand she had a far away look in her eyes and a trace
of a smile around her mouth. She was intriguing, charming and of exceptional
beauty. Laura found herself fascinated by the painting, just as she had been
the first time she laid eyes on it. Catching a glimpse of herself in a gold framed
photograph on one of the side tables in the living room she found it hard to
believe this woman was her sister, she had none of her fine features. With her
olive tan, chestnut hair and green eyes she had inherited her mother’s looks.
Not something to be unhappy about, but she didn’t have that carefree girlish
look Danielle had. Danielle had it all. Beauty, brains, charm, confidence, a
sense of humor, and to top it all, an exceptional dance talent. A dance talent
that might not have surfaced if it had not been for an accident.
At age 8 Danielle had been knocked down by a car and sustained a back
injury. In the attending specialist’s opinion she would have to exercise for
years to come if her spine was to develop correctly. In order to make the
exercises more fun he had advised ballet training. The strenuous program
would not only ensure a straight back and good posture but would stretch her
muscles. Danielle had taken to ballet like a fish to water. While other children
watched cartoons and Walt Disney movies, she was in her room practicing
the steps she had learned that day. She wasn’t even 9 years old when she first
claimed that when she grew up she was going to be a dancer.
Blake and Veronica Hamilton had smiled tenderly at their little daughter,
oblivious to her dance talent, just thankful that she was able to walk.
But ballet was not really what Danielle had in mind for her future. At age
twelve she put her ballet shoes on her bedroom wall claiming she wanted to dance
to something with a bit more rhythm, more spunk, something with which she
could express her innermost feelings. Expressing herself in dance had
become second nature to Danielle, whether she was happy or sad, excited or
depressed; she would go to the ballroom of her parents’ mansion, put on some
music to suit her mood and start to move. Laura remembered how she used to
watch her younger sister through a peephole in one of the walls, fascinated
how a few arm and hip movements gradually resulted in a graceful or wild
passionate dance. Eventually she was able to tell what mood Danielle was in
just by listening to the sound of her feet on the black and white marble floor.
Even though she had bid ballet school goodbye, Danielle still kept up the
exercises. She joined a local contemporary dance school and studied every
dance under the sun. She had a hunger to learn and would practice until she
reached perfection. Her teachers soon noticed her talent and dedication, and
at junior championships she walked away with one winning trophy after
another.
By then, Blake and Veronica Hamilton’s smiles had turned into frowns.
They did not like Danielle’s obsession with dancing and made it quite clear
that studying towards a degree was far more important. When Danielle
disagreed she was put on a plane to Switzerland, where the nuns of the
convent St. Helena were to see to her high school education and proper
ladylike manners.
Academically Danielle was genius, finishing every year top of her class,
helping others with whatever she could. But turning her into a lady proved to
be somewhat of a problem, if not a nightmare. Danny, as she was referred to,
was too wild, too outspoken, and too hardheaded, landing her constantly in
hot water. Still they loved her, Mother Superior along with all the other nuns.
It was hard not to love this doll-like beauty with her sparkling personality, and
she was an absolute favorite with her peers.
Danielle has a brilliant mind, is very well spoken, shows great confidence
and a strong sense of leadership, Mother Superior wrote in her monthly letter
to Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton in her final year of high school. A career in law or
politics would be perfect for this little terrorist.
Blake and Veronica Hamilton were delighted with Mother Superior’s
review and took her words to heart when later on she was sent to Paris,
France, where she was to study law at the Sorbonne. For the duration of her
stay in Paris her father had arranged for a fully furnished penthouse in the
center of town and a generous monthly allowance.
In the letters Danielle sent she sounded happy and content, telling her
family about her classes, newfound friendships and visits to various Parisian
landmarks. Laura had merely smiled when she heard of those cultural visits,
knowing those were not the only places of interest to her sister. To Laura,
Danielle told of a different kind of life in Paris. The various parties she
attended, the nights on the town with her girlfriends, and visits to famous
nightclubs. Laura often wondered when her sister got time to study.
And then Alain Bertrand came into Danielle’s life. She met him at a New
Year’s Eve party and was charmed by this dashing young Frenchman, five
years her senior. When they kissed at midnight she found herself in love for
the first time. Back home nobody but Laura knew about this meeting and the
developing relationship. Throughout the first couple of letters it was Alain
this and Alain that, raving about how handsome and wonderful he was. Alain
had taken her to lunch at Café Paris, to dinner at Maxim’s, for coffee on the
top of the Eiffel Tower, and to a fashion parade at the house of Dior. This first
love swept Danielle off her feet and let her walk with her head in the clouds.
By Easter, adventurous outings had made way for romantic dinners in his or
her apartment, evenings by the fireplace and passionate nights. Passionate
nights … that was one Laura had to get used to. Her sister was sleeping with
this man! With the arrival of summer Danielle told Laura that Alain had
moved in with her. Skeptical as Laura had been at first about this
arrangement, after a while she had to admit that Alain seemed to be a blessing
for her sister. Her letters seemed happier than ever and with Alain for a tutor
she studied with a so far unknown discipline. In just three years she graduated
from law school, with honors.
But then Danielle’s happy little world collapsed. At 21 and finished with
her education, there was no reason for her to stay in Europe. All throughout
high school and university she had never given up her dream to pursue a
dancing career and now she was finally free to do so. When she asked Alain
to come with her to the United States, he refused. She pleaded with him,
begged him, but he would not even consider leaving France. He claimed his
future was with his father’s firm and in turn begged Danielle to stay with him.
Heartbroken and with tears streaming down their faces they said goodbye,
both too stubborn to change their minds.
Meanwhile in Los Angeles, at the Hamilton mansion, a party was being
organized. Danielle was coming home and the whole household was in a
festive mood.
“Do Mom and Dad know about Alain?” Danielle asked her sister, just as
soon as she had her alone.
“No, you told me not to tell them anything. Did he come with you?”
When Laura heard that the romance was over, because her sister wanted
to try her luck on Broadway and Alain did not want to join her there, she was
shocked.
“Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that dream,” she said. “Danny, what
do you know about dancing? I know you fancied dancing as a child, but
you’re grown up now, with a future in law.”
“Only because I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Danielle threw back.
“In my heart I always wanted to be a dancer. You know that.”
Yes, Laura knew that. She also knew that there were thousands of girls
with the same dream, girls who had been working towards a dance career
their whole lives. How was her sister going to compete with them? In her
opinion Danielle might well have a brilliant mind in academics, but she sure
was naive in life.
When Blake and Veronica heard about Danielle’s plan to go to New York
all hell broke loose at the Hamilton mansion. One sermon followed another,
but Danielle was determined, she was going. Eventually a mutual agreement
was reached, she could go to New York but she had to take Laura with her.
And, as her father put it, if the dancing business didn’t work out within six
months she was to return home.
“Are you out of your mind?” Veronica Hamilton cried when she heard of
this arrangement. “Letting a 21-year-old girl go to New York!” Her blood
was boiling and although she rarely lost her temper, this time her
temperament got the better of her. “All this silliness about dancing on
Broadway. Her place is in the family business, not on some stage.”
“Relax, Vicky,” Blake Hamilton tried to calm his wife. “I know what I’m
doing. Let Danielle go to New York, let her chase her fantasy, believe me
that’s all it is, a fantasy. She’s not going to make it in dancing, with her
background she doesn’t stand a chance. After a while she will realize her
mistake, come back home and settle down.”
“But New York, Blake,” Veronica sighed. “It’s such a dangerous place.”
“I know,” Blake agreed. “That’s why I have arranged for Laura to go with
Danielle. She can keep and eye on her sister, keep us informed about what we
need to know, and in due time bring Danielle back home.”
“Now promise me,” Blake Hamilton said, as he kissed both his daughters
goodbye, “that if this dancing business doesn’t work out …”
“I know, I know,” Danielle cut her father off. “If the dancing business
doesn’t work out I am to come home. Don’t worry, Dad, it will work out, it has
to. Now promise me something … that you and Mom will come and watch
when I’m dancing my first show.”
Trying hard not to laugh, Blake and Veronica Hamilton nodded,
convinced this was one promise they would never have to keep.
Laura turned away from the painting, checked her gold diamond-set
wristwatch and got up from the cream velvet sofa.
“Danny, it’s almost 7:00,” she announced after a rap on her sister’s
bathroom door. “You better get moving or you will be late. Danny?”
“Mmm I’m coming, Laura,” came the sleepy reply. “Just give me a
minute.”
“A minute,” Laura cried irritated. “You’ve been in there for over half an
hour. Come on now, get ready.”
When she heard no movement Laura knocked again and stepped inside
the steamy room.
“Danielle! Have you forgotten that you have a 7:00 appointment with
Richard Benson? He’s the reporter from Rolling Stone, I told you about him.
He’s going to be here any minute.”
When Danielle finally made her way into the bedroom of her spacious
penthouse she found her sister looking at her in total horror.
“What?”
“You’re not seeing Mr. Benson dressed like that, are you?” Laura gasped,
looking at Danielle’s faded jeans, oversized white t-shirt, and white sneakers.
Danielle looked down at herself, not understanding why her sister was so
shocked. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Put on something nice,” Laura pleaded. “You have a dressing room full
of designer outfits. You could pick any of them and look stunning.”
Danielle shook her head. “No way. Here I’m at home and here I want to be
comfortable. If you think I’m going to get all dressed up for some stuffy
reporter coming to ask me a bunch of stupid questions, you’re wrong.”
She meant it. Laura could see that she did by the way she lit up a cigarette
and threw down the lighter.
“Alright,” Laura calmly stated. “It was only a suggestion.”
“I’m tired, Laura,” Danielle sighed. “I am so tired. I’ve been up since 6:00
this morning, I’m hungry, my back hurts, and my feet are killing me. But do
I get to rest or something to eat, no. I get rushed in and out of the bath because
of yet another interview.”
Precisely at 7:00 p.m. the telephone rang. Before even answering it Laura
knew it was the concierge announcing Richard Benson’s arrival.
“Do you want me to postpone the interview?”
“No let him come up,” Danielle said with another sigh. “I’ll be right
there.”
“Good evening, I’m Cliff Walters with Rolling Stone. Richard Benson
called earlier this week to confirm an interview with Miss Hamilton.”
Looking at the man in front of her, Laura remembered her sister’s words,
If you think I’m going to get all dressed up for some stuffy reporter, coming
to ask me a bunch of stupid questions, you’re wrong. This was one reporter
who was anything but stuffy and she doubted it if a stupid question ever
passed his lips. Formally dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit, white shirt
and red silk tie he looked like a lawyer, sharp and confident. Not a young man
anymore, maybe 50-something, but definitely still very attractive.
“What happened to Richard Benson?” Laura asked.
“He had a little accident down at the office,” Cliff Walters said. “I’ve been
asked to cover his assignment.” With this he produced identification, which
Laura carefully inspected.
“Come on in,” she smiled. “I’m Laura Hamilton. I’ll let Danielle know
that you’re here. Have a seat.”
Unbuttoning his jacked Cliff Walters made himself comfortable in one of
the big lounge chairs, took out his tape recorder and looked around the room.
Nice place, he thought, and let his eyes sweep over the interior. Peach colored
wall to wall carpets and curtains; a cream colored velvet lounge suit; pale oak
cabinets and dining room; various lampshades spreading a warm glow over
flower arrangements in crystal vases; three huge oil paintings, the scene on
the canvas enhanced by spotlights strategically positioned from the ceiling.
Miss Hamilton had expensive taste and obviously enough money to surround
herself with exclusive pieces of art. Curiosity made him turn in his seat to
view what lay behind him, and was struck by her portrait in an alcove. Gazing
at the painting Cliff Walters wondered if Danielle Hamilton was really this
beautiful, or if the artist was just extraordinary talented. Heaving a sigh he
wondered why he agreed to do this interview. He dealt with serious artists,
not show business brats. To Cliff Walters, Danielle Hamilton was the worst.
A rich kid whose life was and always had been one big bed of roses. Whose
career on Broadway was a joke. Daddy probably arranged that she was the
lead dancer of the Fame Dance Company. Daddy being Blake Hamilton,
Managing Director and Chairman of the Board of Hamilton Enterprises, a
construction company with numerous buildings all over the United States. He
checked his wristwatch. She was keeping him waiting. He had been sitting
here for at least 15 minutes and if she didn’t show up within the next 5 he was
leaving. Big Broadway star or not. Tired of sitting he got up and walked over
to one of the windows overlooking Central Park.
“Why did you have to break your leg, Richard?” he murmured. “And why
of all people did I have to get stuck with your assignment?”
His colleague had been looking forward to this interview. Even since the
arrangements were made he had been raving about Danielle Hamilton, whom
he adored and was now finally going to meet face to face. In his excitement
he had not seen the waste paper basket next to his desk, an obstacle that made
him land on the floor, breaking his leg and so ruining his big chance. Cliff
shook his head, as he watched the traffic far below him, life was not fair.
Richard would have given anything to do this interview, he would have given
anything not to.
“Mr. Walters. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
A soft melodic voice made him turn around. Taking one deep breath after
another Cliff Walters found himself staring at a young woman so lovely she
left him speechless. This was not the Danielle Hamilton he had seen on
posters and in magazines. This was not the glamorous Broadway star. This
was an ordinary woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but still
an ordinary woman. She looked so sweet, so fragile. And he sure as hell had
never seen anyone look this good in jeans and T-shirt.
“Miss Hamilton,” he said, clearing his throat. “I was just admiring the
view.”
She looked in the direction of the window. “It is quite breathtaking, isn’t
it?”
Not as breathtaking as you are, he thought, but didn’t say anything.
“Please, sit down,” Danielle said, gesturing towards the lounge suite. “Can
I fix you a drink?”
“Scotch, please.”
He watched her every move as she seemed to float to the bar, take two
glasses, put some ice in them, then fill one glass with golden scotch out of a
crystal decanter, and the other with orange juice. She was controlled in
everything she did, gracious and sensual. She walked as straight as a candle,
proud and conscious, with slight waving hips.
After she had given him his glass she seated herself on the sofa, pulled her
legs under her, threw her hair back and awaited his first question.
“Miss Hamilton …”
“Danielle,” she interrupted him. “Please, call me Danielle.”
Cliff Walters nodded indulgently. “All right, Danielle, do you mind if I
use a tape recorder? I’m no good at shorthand.”
A gesture of her hand told him it made no difference to her.
“Rumor has it that you are leaving Broadway. Any truth to that?”
“Yes and no,” Danielle said. “I’m going on a tour through Europe with my
dance company, but after the tour it’s back to New York. I love Broadway too
much, and I’ve worked too hard to get where I am today to just leave.”
“Excuse me for saying so,” Cliff Walters hesitated, “you say you worked
hard to get where you are, but didn’t your father play a major role in your
acceptance to the theatre?”
“You know my father?”
“Who doesn’t? The name Blake Hamilton is known all over the States.”
“And so you think that just because I’m Blake Hamilton’s daughter I was
presented my career on a silver platter. Mmm, I suppose I can’t blame you for
thinking that. My father’s name does open a lot of doors for a lot of people,
but that was not the case where my career was concerned. As a matter of fact,
my father was very much opposed to my plans. He didn’t think a dancing
career was respectable enough.”
“But you went for it anyway.”
“Yes, I did. Dancing professionally was always my ambition and nothing
and nobody was going to stop me.”
“So you really made in on your own?”
Danielle turned pensive. “I had a lot of help, from a lot of people.”
“Like?”
“My sister, my manager, my friends.”
Leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees, Cliff Walters rested his
chin on his entwined fingers. “Tell me about those early years.”
Danielle lit up a cigarette, took a slow drag and thoughtfully blew the
smoke in the air. “What’s to tell? I was like every other dancer who ever came
to New York. I didn’t expect to be hired right away, but neither did I expect
to go from one audition to another ending up with nothing but frustration. I
was just a dancer amongst dancers, another face in the crowd. It was tough,
believe me, and we faced some tough times.”
“We?”
“My sister came with me to New York and I can honestly say that, if it
hadn’t been for Laura, I never would have made it. When we ran out of
money, she got a job. I wanted to get a job too, but she said it wouldn’t be
practical for me to work. It would interfere with my dance classes and
auditions.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Guilty, moody, depressed, and more than once, ready to give up.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Laura wouldn’t let me. She told me over and over again to be patient, to
give it time, that something would come up.”
“And it did.”
With a smile around her mouth Danielle nodded.
As Danielle’s story unfolded in the living room, Laura listened from her
sister’s bedroom, having some reflections of her own.
Negative as she had been at first about her sister’s future as a dancer, after
accompanying Danielle to the dance studio a couple of times and seeing her
in action she was convinced that it was only a matter of time before someone
noticed that talent. Even with limited dance training Danielle was amazing.
Maybe it was because she did not have years of formal training that she was
so unique. She was the proverbial diamond in the rough.
But being noticed took longer than expected and when Danielle’s savings
ran out, Laura had taken a job. They had to make do with very little money,
but strapped for cash as they were, come Saturday night they would go to the
theatre. It was heartbreaking to see Danielle watching the dancers on stage.
She so much longed to be one of them. She did not just watch a show, she got
absorbed by it. Laura had to admit, such performances were fascinating and
exciting. The music, the lights, costumes and décor, and of course, the
dancers themselves. Beautiful people with lean bodies, light on their feet,
creating magic. She could well imagine her sister wanting to be part of that
magic.
The day before the six-month time limit expired they sat at the kitchen
table, Danielle staring into her coffee mug. “Tomorrow is November 1st,” she
suddenly said. “I suppose you’re relieved that we’re going home. You were
right, I couldn’t make it.”
“And since then I have told you how many times that you can make it,”
Laura retorted. “Forget what I said back home. Even though you’ve had
limited training you are one hell of a dancer, Danny. And as I told you before,
all you need is time.”
Danielle let out a deep sigh. “Time’s up and I’ve given up.”
She had looked so depressed. Coffee mug in hand she had moved to the
broad windowsill and in the moonlight Laura had noticed tears rolling down
her face.
“Don’t cry,” she comforted. “We don’t have to go home right away. We
can stay another week, or even a month.”
“Why?” Danielle sobbed. “So I can go to yet another audition and get
turned down? No thanks I’ve had enough. And I can’t let you go on
supporting me. You’re working, I’m doing nothing; it’s not fair on you.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Laura smiled. “I’m having a ball.”
Seeing the look of confusion on her sister’s face Laura explained.
“Danny, I’m 25 years old, but it wasn’t until I came to New York with you that
I started living. We might not have much money, but look at us, we have our
own apartment, we have friends, and we are free. Maybe it’s different for you
Danny, having lived in Switzerland and France, but I sure don’t regret leaving
home and I’m in no hurry to go back there.”
Laura suddenly realized that the mention of France might stir memories of
Alain Bertrand for her sister. Was she thinking of him now? Was she thinking
that she had left him for nothing? She wished she could think of something to
say, something to make her sister feel better.
“Let’s get out of here,” she suggested. “Let’s go for a drink or see a
movie.”
Danielle slowly and despondently shook her head.
Laura tried again. “I know you don’t feel like doing anything honey, but
what are you going to do? Sit there all night, feeling sorry for yourself?”
“You go,” Danielle whispered. “I’m going to the studio, one last time.”
It was heartbreaking. Laura realized that her sister was not only about to
say goodbye to the studio manager, but to her hopes and dreams. She couldn’t
let her go alone.
For her last dance she expected her sister to choose some slow music at the
studio, something to suit her depressed mood, but instead Danielle put on
Giving Up, Giving In, a dynamic number by The Three Degrees. The dance
left little or nothing to the imagination. Danielle was angry, frustrated and
rebellious and her whole body but especially her feet spoke an aggressive
language. It was a dance that was to change her future.
“That must have been one hell of a dance,” Cliff Walters nodded, as
Danielle told him her version of the story.
She nodded with a smile. “Yes, it was.”
“Then what happened?”
“That’s a long story.”
Cliff Walters settled back in his chair. “I’ve got the time if you do.”
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 beats 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 theatre 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 theatre, 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,space for lots of flower pots 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.”
Chapter 2
“Are you nervous?” Steve asked, placing a comforting hand on Danielle’s
shoulder. “You probably feel a few butterflies in your stomach, right?”
“Butterflies,” Danielle said, eyebrows shooting up, “try giant moths!”
They laughed out loud, relieving some of the tension that had been
building up for hours.
“It’s quite normal to be nervous,” Steve calmly stated. “This being your
first audition.”
“You mean my first private audition,” Danielle corrected. “I’ve been to
plenty of auditions over the past few months, but this is the first time I’m
going to dance by invitation.” Smiling gratefully she added “Thanks Steve,
thank you for arranging this for me.”
The little kiss she planted on his cheek made him smile. “It was nothing,
and this does not guarantee anything. It is up to you to convince the
choreographer out there to hire you.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Steve shrugged his shoulders. “There are plenty of theatres on Broadway,
and you know the saying . If at first we don’t succeed, we try and try again.
Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Do they know what music to play?”
“Everything is arranged,” Steve assured her. “Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry, yeah right, as if she could manage that. Ever since Steve had
told Danielle about this audition she had been a bundle of nerves. Last night
she had not been able to sleep, and this morning it had been impossible to eat
breakfast.
“What are you so worried about?” Laura had asked. “It’s not like you’ve
never done this before.”
That was true, she had been to auditions before, but there was one hell of
a difference between a public audition and a private one. Instead of being a
dancer amongst dancers, she would be alone on stage now. Alone … on that
big empty stage … the thought of it made her stomach turn and her blood run
cold.
“I know I’m good, and you agreed with me,” she turned to Steve, “but am
I good enough?”
Before he could answer a voice called her name.
Seeing Danielle walk away Steve hoped this audition would work out for
her. She was under the impression that he had done so much for her, but he
hadn’t done anything really. All he had done was make a phone call.
Knowing, of course, that a request from him would immediately be granted.
But Danielle seemed to have no idea what she had done for him. Two months
ago she had come into his life and changed it. With her optimism,
cheerfulness, clear voice and funny giggles she had brought warmth and
happiness into his house and his heart. Working with her had given him a
reason to get up in the morning, along with a feeling of being useful again.
Tired and annoyed, Victor Campbell turned a page on his clipboard, ready
to see the next dancer. Having seen 15 dancers that morning he had seen
enough. They had been good, but that was just the problem, they were only
good but nothing special. The next one was Danielle Hamilton, 21 years old,
and protégé of Steve Savage. It had been a shock to hear from Steve again.
After his accident he had disappeared and it was everyone’s opinion that he
had retired. Now after 3 years of silence Steve’s call came … if he would do
him a favor and look at a promising young dancer he found. Lighting a
cigarette Victor thought it was more likely that the young dancer had found
Steve Savage.
Sure he would do him the favor of auditioning his so-called protégé, that
did not mean he would hire her. As a matter of fact, he had no intention of
hiring her. He hated girls who used influential men as their ticket to the stage.
He would rather take someone off the street than work with one of those
manipulating bitches who would do anything to get into a show.
When Danielle heard her name being called she took a deep breath and
stepped out of the side wing onto the stage. The lump in her throat suddenly
grew bigger, her knees seemed to turn to jelly, and she started shaking
uncontrollably. Her heart was pounding as she reached center stage, unable
to see anything beyond the footlights.
“Are you ready?” A man’s voice asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
In the few seconds of deadly silence that followed, Danielle lowered her
head, closed her eyes, and let everything around her disappear. When the
music started she let her mind drift away, listening with her heart, uniting
with the rhythm.
From the side wing of the stage Steve watched as Danielle started to move,
following his instructions to the letter. She had practiced this routine over and
over again, perfecting every step and every arm movement. He expected
Danielle to make some mistakes, considering her nervousness, but she
surprised him with a perfect performance. He remembered her question …
Am I good enough? Heavens, she was more than good enough, she exceeded
his expectations.
It wasn’t long before Victor Campbell rose from his relaxed position in his
chair to sit up straight. Fascinated by what he saw he leaned his arms on the
seat in front of him, not noticing that his clipboard fell to the floor. This girl
had it all: style, grace, speed and endurance. In 15 years as a choreographer
he had seen a lot of talented dancers, but this one was something new.
Something about this girl gave him shivers. He had to have her, whatever her
involvement with Steve Savage. She had come to him for work, and he would
be a fool not to hire her.
“Thank you,” he said as Danielle finished. In a slow pace he walked up to
the stage. “Danielle Hamilton, right?”
“Right.”
“That was quite a performance.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you liked it.”
He looked at her, thinking how beautiful she was. Even without make-up,
except for some pale lipstick, and with beads of perspiration on her forehead
she still looked exquisite.
“Who represents you, Miss Hamilton?”
“I do.”
Victor Campbell turned to see a man coming towards him, recognizing
him as Steve Savage. “Steve,” he said, trying hard not to stare at his facial
scars. “It’s really you. How have you been?”
“I’m well, thanks,” Steve smiled.” How about you?”
“Can’t complain. God I can’t believe it’s really you. I haven’t seen you in
what … 3 years?”
“I had a rather bad accident.”
“Yes, yes,” Victor nodded. “I read about it in the paper. Happened in Los
Angeles didn’t it? A very unfortunate thing.” Clapping his hands together he
smiled. “So, did you teach this young lady to dance?”
With a tender smile Steve looked up to Danielle who was still on the stage.
“I wish I could take credit for that, but I can’t. We have been working together
yes, but as far as her dancing is concerned … she’s a natural. Go and get
changed,” he instructed her, “I’ll see you in the car.”
Victor looked from one to the other. Strange pair they were. Talk about
your beauty and the beast.
Danielle smiled, excused herself and walked away.
Back in the car Danielle anxiously awaited Steve’s return.
“How did it go, Miss Danielle?” Oscar turned to the back of the limousine.
“I don’t know, Oscar,” she sighed. “I think I could have done better.”
They waited in silence. Minutes seemed like hours. When Steve was
finally seen leaving the theatre Oscar got out of the driver’s seat, walked
around the car and held open the back door.
Once he sat next to her, Danielle expected him to say something, but he
didn’t. She glanced at him, he did not smile, but then he rarely did.
“And?” she asked, unable to control herself any longer.
He turned to her, giving her a long examining look.
She had not been successful, she could see it. He was looking for the right
words to break the news. Why had she thought this audition would be any
different from the others? Why had she hoped? Why had she been so foolish
to think that she could compete with professional dancers? Devastated she
lowered her head as tears sprang to her eyes.
“You can forget about your dream of dancing on Broadway,” she heard
Steve say, then after a short pause “and start concentrating on reality.
Rehearsals for the new show start on February 1st, 9:00 sharp. Don’t be late.”
Danielle looked up to him, not understanding. Then her eyes grew bigger
and a smile more radiant than Steve had ever seen lit up her face.
“He hired me? You’re serious? Oh Steve, that’s wonderful.”
In a spontaneous reaction she threw her arms around his neck and kissed
him on the cheek. “Thank you so very, very, very much!”
“No need to thank me,” Steve said. “You did all the work.”
Danielle looked at him at arms length. “That might be so, but I couldn’t
have done it without you.”
Hugging him lovingly she kissed him again.
“Congratulations, Miss Danielle,” Oscar beamed, as he once again turned
in his seat. “I knew you had nothing to worry about.”
“Let’s go home, Oscar,” Steve instructed, then turned to Danielle
“Tonight we are going to celebrate.”
Steve was not quite sure why, but ever since Danielle and Laura had come
to live with him, his facial scars did not worry him as much as they used to.
Sure he had noticed how shocked Victor Campbell had been when he first
saw him, but it did not bother him. His scars had never seemed to bother
Danielle and Laura. He never caught them staring at him, he never caught a
whisper about him, and they certainly did not seem horrified by him. Why,
Danielle had kissed him on his bad cheek, twice. If she and Laura could
accept him as he was, then maybe so could the rest of the world. Going in
public again would be a big step for him, but he would do it, for Danielle.
At the house Laura had been on the look out for the car, and when she
noticed it pulling up the driveway she ran outside.
“And?” she asked the moment the car stood still.
“I’m hired,” Danielle cried for the whole neighborhood to hear. “Can you
believe it? They hired me. I’m going to dance in the Lincoln Center.
The Lincoln Center, Laura, the best theatre on Broadway! My dream has
come true!”
Steve and Oscar watched in amusement as the two girls, clearly beside
themselves, fell in each other’s arms and jumped with joy.
“And tonight we’re going out celebrating,” Danielle announced. “Steve is
taking us out.”
“Us? You mean me too?”
Danielle looked at her sister in amazement. “Of course you too. If it wasn’t
for you and your support I wouldn’t be here.”
“Girls,” Hanna, the housekeeper, warned as Danielle and Laura ran into
the house and flew up the stairs. “Be careful, you’ll hurt yourselves.”
“Oh Hanna,” Danielle laughed, rushing back down. “You’ll never guess
what happened.”
“But I do, dear,” the plump elderly lady smiled. “I heard the good news
when you told your sister. You are going to dance on Broadway.”
“I am, I am,” Danielle sang as she took Hanna’s hands and danced with her
across the hall.
“All the more reason to be careful, dear,” Hanna said, pressing a hand
against her ample bosom when they had stopped twirling. “You don’t want
anything to happen now.”
But Danielle didn’t listen. After kissing the gray-haired lady on the cheek
she raced up the stairs again, where she and Laura giggling disappeared into
her bedroom.
Smiling Hanna shook her head. There was no talking sense to those two.
They were like little children.
“Would you like me to prepare something special for tonight, Mr.
Savage?” She turned to her employer.
“That’s a nice thought, Hanna,” Steve smiled, “but that won’t be
necessary. I’m taking the girls out.”
“You’re going out?” Hanna asked in disbelief. “But you never go out.”
“I am tonight.”
Finally, Hanna thought, her smile broadening. It’s about time Mr. Savage
started living again. Thank you, Danielle.
Hanna had seen a lot of changes in her employer in the last couple of
weeks. He came down to breakfast every morning clean-shaven, wearing
matching clothes, and on occasion she had even heard him whistling. The
house and its owner had come alive since the girls had moved in, and she
loved them for it. For the past 3 years Mr. Savage had lived like a hermit.
Except for an occasional theatre visit he never went anywhere, and never
received anyone. She knew he was embarrassed about his scars, and often
wished she had the courage to tell him they didn’t look so bad. If one could
look past the scars one could even call him attractive. At 34, standing six feet
five inches, Steve Savage was an impressive man with a muscular build,
expressive dark brown eyes, and luxurious black hair. He was kind,
considerate, attentive, charming, and extremely polite. He was an Italian
through and through and Hanna loved him like a son. She had never
understood how Mrs. Savage could have been so horrible to Mr. Savage.
Moving out of their bedroom the night Mr. Savage came home from the
hospital after his accident, avoiding him at meal times, refusing their friends
to come to the house. What a horrible woman she had been. The news that she
was moving out had not upset Hanna at all, if anything, she had packed for her
mistress at the speed of lightning. It had broken her heart though to see how
Mr. Savage mourned her departure. That, together with the loss of his friends
and his business had almost destroyed him. Finding himself alone he had,
except for her and Oscar, dismissed the servants, abandoned his beautiful
estate, and moved into this cottage. Smiling she remembered the arrival of
Danielle and Laura, and how surprised she had been to see the girls coming
down the stairs one morning. All these years Mr. Savage had shown no
interest in a female companion, and now there were two of them! The reason
for their stay however had become obvious from day one. Danielle was an
aspiring dancer, and Mr. Savage was going to work with her. Laura’s part in
all this was not clear at first, but Hanna did not doubt that Mr. Savage had
plans with her too.
Later that evening, when Hanna saw Danielle and Laura coming down the
stairs in their evening gowns, she clasped her hands together in admiration.
“How do we look, Hanna?” Danielle pirouetted in front of her.
“Child,” she smiled, “if I were 30 years younger, and 60 pounds lighter, I
would ask if I could borrow those dresses one night. You two look fabulous!”
Admiring Laura’s flared green velvet, and Danielle’s tight-fitting black
silk gown she wondered out loud “Where did you find these?”
“On our beds,” Danielle explained, and then turned to Steve with a frown.
“How did you know there would be something to celebrate? And how did you
know our sizes?”
She saw him glancing at Laura. “Confidence, my dear, sheer confidence.”
“You’re looking mighty nice too, Mr. Savage,” Hanna turned to her
employer. Danielle and Laura nodded in agreement. Steve looked absolutely
dashing in his tuxedo.
Embarrassed but pleased with the compliment and the looks he got, Steve
proffered Danielle and Laura an arm and asked, “Are you girls ready?”
“After hours of preparation I would say so,” Danielle said, checking her
look in the hall mirror. “Where are you taking us anyway?”
“To the only place suitable for the occasion … Broadway,” Steve smiled.
“Tonight I’m going to show you a glimpse of your future.”
Chapter 3
Highland, home to the Hamiltons and the most impressive mansion in
Beverly Hills. Surrounded by trees and shrubs and thousands of flowers, the
white walls and black slate roof were in sharp contrast with its colorful
surroundings. Highland was as beautiful as it was majestic.
Tourist buses made it their last stop. By they had seen every celebrity
home in the area, but none of them could compare with the elegance of
Highland. The exited chatter turned silent at first sight of it. They stared,
exclaimed whispered admirations, photographed and fell in love with this
magnificent estate.
On this particular day the tourists were in luck. The black wrought-iron
gates opened for a sleek black limousine, gliding along the rose-bordered
driveway, coming to a stop in front of the moon-shaped, pillar-supported
entrance. Two young women got out of the limousine and rushed, after
greeting the butler, up the steps that led to the white painted front door.
“Anyone we know?” one of the tourist asked as they all peered through
their binoculars and zoom lenses.
But nobody knew Danielle and Laura Hamilton. Not yet.
If Danielle thought her parents were going to congratulate her,she was sadly
mistaken. The news of the audition and her subsequently being hired in the
chorus of a Broadway show made her father’s eye twitch and her mother
nearly faint.
“Danielle, in my study,” her father commanded. “There is no need to upset
your mother any further.”
Inside the oak panelled room, 50-year-old Blake Hamilton, president and
C.E.O. of Hamilton Enterprises, sat down behind his solid oak desk and
indicated his daughter to take a seat in one of the leather chairs opposite him.
“You realize, of course, that this dancing business is out of the question.”
He came straight to the point.
“Why?” Danielle demanded.
“Why? I’ll tell you why,” Blake said, raising his voice. “No daughter of
mine is going to turn herself into a showgirl.”
“I am not going to perform in some sleazy bar, Dad,” Danielle defended.
“I’m going to be a respectable dancer in a respectable theatre. You’ve been to
Broadway shows, you know what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, I do,” Blake Hamilton nodded. “And such a career might be right for
other girls, but not for you. You were educated in Switzerland and you
obtained a law degree for heaven’s sake. Do you really think I will let you
throw all that away on some … some … dancing thing.”
“I didn’t ask to be sent to Switzerland, Dad,” Danielle threw back. “And
I certainly didn’t want to become a lawyer. Ever since I was little I dreamed
about being a dancer, you know that, and now I have to chance to make that
dream come true.”
“We can’t always have what we want,” Blake Hamilton said. “Now,
you’ve had your fun and now I want you to come and join Hamilton
Enterprises like your brothers. You have the knowledge, all you need is some
experience and in a few years you might be head of the legal department. Are
we in agreement?”
Danielle could not have been more disappointed. When Steve had
surprised her and Laura with tickets to go to Los Angeles she had jumped
with joy. The trip would only be for a week, but Steve had said she deserved
a vacation before joining the dance company. She had been so happy about
going home, about the fact that she would be able to tell her parents
personally about her good fortune rather than on the phone. Now she felt
sorry she even came here. Her parents were far from thrilled with her news.
“Are we in agreement?”She heard her father ask again.
Danielle took a deep breath. “No, Dad, we are not. All my life I have tried
to please you. Now it’s time I did something for myself. I have a chance to
dance on Broadway and I am not going to turn my back on it. No way.”
“And I’m telling you I won’t allow it.” Blake Hamilton smacked his fist
on his desk. “I won’t have you making a fool of yourself.”
“I am not going to make a fool of myself, Dad,” Danielle launched herself
into defense again. “I’m going to be a respectable dancer.”
“A respectable dancer,” Blake honed. To him there was no such thing.
“If you’re so much against a career in dancing, why did you let me take
dance lessons in the first place?” Danielle asked.
“You had an accident, darling,” Blake explained. “Do you remember
that? A car hit you. You were in therapy for a while and then the specialist
recommended dancing. The exercise would do you good. Heaven knows we
never expected you would take it all so seriously.”
Danielle did remember. She had taken ballet lessons and later switched to
contemporary dancing. She had done very well and won a number of junior
dance competitions.
“Then why did you let me go to New York?” she asked her father. “If you
were so dead set against a dancing career, why did you let me go?”
Why indeed, Blake Hamilton heaved a sigh. That was where he had made
his first mistake. He never should have allowed her going off. If he had put his
foot down from the beginning, none of this would be happening.
When her father didn’t answer, Danielle made a guess. “You never
expected me to make it, did you?”
“That’s right,” Blake Hamilton admitted. “I didn’t think you would make
it. I thought you were chasing a silly dream. I let you go because I knew that,
if I stopped you, you would forever wonder about what might have been for
the rest of your life. The way I saw it, you would quickly realize that dreaming
and reality were two different things. Then you would come back here and
settle down. Who the hell knew you would actually get hired!”
Looking at her father Danielle didn’t know whether to feel flattered or
hurt. “But I did get hired, Dad,” she said. “And now all my dreams are going
to come true. I’m going to dance, on a stage. Can you imagine, the excitement,
the lights, the music, the applause?”
As her voice trailed off Blake Hamilton couldn’t help but notice the
sparkle in her eyes. “I admit that being in an office and a courtroom is not
quite the same as being on a stage,” he said, “but don’t you think that winning
a legal case can be just as exciting?”
“It’s not what I want, Dad,” Danielle pleaded. “I want to be a dancer.”
Blake Hamilton realized there was no reasoning with his youngest. She
had her heart set on a dancing career and nothing or nobody was going to
change her mind. She was a Hamilton all right, stubborn through and through.
“And the family name,” Blake Hamilton said. “Does the fact that you
could disgrace the family name mean nothing to you?”
“Disgrace it! I’m not going to disgrace the Hamilton name,” Danielle
defended with pride. “If anything I’m going to make our name more famous
than it already is. Put it in lights.”
“In lights! Sweetheart, chorus girls don’t get their name in lights,” Blake
laughed. “What are you thinking?”
Danielle didn’t think it was funny at all. “I’m not planning on being a
chorus girl all my life, Dad. I want to make it big, become a lead dancer.”
“A lead dancer!” In desperation Blake threw his hands up in the air. Now
he’d heard it all. His girl had her head stuck in the clouds and had lost all touch
with reality. He looked at her, she was such a dreamer. She hadn’t even
started with the chorus yet and already she had visions of being the star of the
show. She had such high hopes, such unreal expectations.
“All right then,” Blake waived a hand. “If it means that much to you, go
for it.”
Danielle jumped to her feet and hugged her father. As important as
dancing was to her, she would never be able to fully enjoy it without her
father’s approval.
Watching her walk away Blake Hamilton sighed and wondered about the
future of his youngest. A lead dancer … oh well, stranger things had
happened. Just a few months ago he had thought she would never make it into
a chorus, and look how that turned out. In a way Danielle reminded him of
himself at an early age. His father who had worked as an accountant in a bank
all his life and had wanted for his only son to follow in his footsteps, but Blake
had other plans. He didn’t want to work for a bank, he wanted to design a
bank, a hotel, a high-rise office block. His father had merely shaken his head
and declared him crazy for having such ambitions. Today, 30 years later,
Blake Hamilton was a multimillionaire and Hamilton Enterprises was
recognized all over the United States as the name in architecture.
Moments after Veronica Hamilton saw her daughter leave her husband’s
study she knocked on the door and stepped inside. “Did you talk to Danielle?
Is she changing her mind?
“No, she’s not,” Blake replied. “Our daughter is going to be a Broadway
dancer.”
The tall, elegantly dressed woman’s eyes filled with horror. “She’s going
back to New York! She’s not joining the family business?”
“No, she’s going to dance for a living.”
“Blake, how could you let this happen?” she demanded.
“Darling, there’s nothing I could do,” Blake put up his hands in defence.
“Danielle is over 21, she’s a grown woman who makes her own decisions.”
“Well, if you ask me it’s the wrong decision,” Veronica said, setting
herself down. “Imagine, our daughter a dancer!”
“Vicky, I’m not thrilled with the idea either,” Blake admitted. “But you
know Danielle, once she sets her mind on something she’s like a bulldog, she
doesn’t let go.”
Veronica Hamilton shook her head. “You disappoint me, Blake. I don’t
understand you. As president of the company you manage hundreds of people
and millions of dollars, but you can’t manage a 21-year-old girl.”
“If memory serves me correctly you couldn’t be managed either at her
age,” Blake recalled. “Remember how your parents were opposed to you
marrying a junior draftsman with nothing to offer but dreams and schemes.
But you married me anyway.”
“That’s not the same, Blake,” Veronica said, getting up and pacing the
room. “Maybe it’s time I had a little talk with our daughter.”
Blake rubbed his chin. “Maybe it is, but don’t get your hopes up.”
After his wife had left Blake sat and gazed at the gold-framed family
picture he kept on his desk. Veronica and their five children — Harry, Carl,
Laura and the twins Tony and Danielle. His eyes lingered on Danielle, his
little princess. He had to hand it to her … she had guts. Standing up to him,
leaving a life a luxury to go and live in New York, pursuing a dream. She was
different from the others.
“Are you coming, Dad?” Laura stuck her head around the door. “Lunch is
about to be served.”
“In a moment, Laura,” Blake nodded. “Come in and have a seat, I want to
talk to you.”
Laura had a pretty good idea what here father wanted to talk about. She
softly closed the door behind her and perched on the edge of a chair.
“How are things going in New York?”
“Very well, Dad, nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about, huh. From the letters we received from you,
your mother and I were under the impression that things weren’t going all that
well.”
Seeing the look on Laura’s face he added, “It wasn’t what you wrote, it
was what you didn’t write. You never mentioned a successful audition.”
“It was a last minute thing, Dad.”
“I see,” Blake Hamilton said, raising his eyebrows. “But I’d like to know
what exactly is going on?”
“Nothing is going on, Dad,” Laura assured her father. “It’s true, at first
Danielle didn’t have any luck, and we went through a rough time, but then her
luck changed.”
“Her luck changed?”
“Yes, she went to this audition and got hired.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that.”
Blake didn’t ask anything further although the issue presented some
questions. He knew Laura, she couldn’t look him in the eye and that could
only mean she was hiding something. She was perhaps hiding more than one
thing, like the address changes he had noticed over the past few months.
Unknown to Laura he knew New York well enough to recognize their first
address as one being in the center of Manhattan. After only a few weeks they
had moved to Brooklyn. He suspected they found New York to be more
expensive than expected and awaited their request for more funds. But the
weeks turned into months and they were obviously getting by without his
financial support. After yet another address change there was another, this
time in the most exclusive area in Connecticut. Something was not right, with
the audition and the address changes and he was going to get to the bottom of
it.
Laura watched her father. She could see that he was not satisfied with her
answers. She hated secrets but she had promised Danielle she would not
mention Steve Savage.
“Mom and Dad will never understand about Steve,” Danielle had said.
“How are we going to explain living in his house? They will think something
is going on.”
Laura had to admit Danielle was right, Mom and Dad would not approve
of their living arrangements, more, they wouldn’t allow it. Steve had been
nothing but a perfect gentleman with her and Danielle, but would they believe
that?
“Come on,” she said in an attempt to distract her father’s thoughts. “Lunch
is waiting.”
The next morning Blake and Veronica Hamilton were waiting in the
breakfast room.
“Help yourselves to some coffee and eggs,” Blake suggested as the girls
came in.
“We were actually on our way out, Dad,” Danielle tried to avoid the
confrontation.
“Danielle, sit,” Veronica joined in. “Your father and I want to talk to you.”
“It’s about your life in New York,” Blake said setting his coffee cup down.
“Your mother and I have been discussing your future career and we want you
to know that we support you in your decision. However, there are one or two
things that we would like cleared up. First of all, I allowed you six months to
pursue a dancing career, but you come home after eight. You two are not the
kind to dishonour a commitment. I would like to know why you added two
months to the time limit?”
“Because the night before the time limit expired everything changed,”
Danielle explained.
“Yes,” Blake nodded. “Laura told me something like that, your luck
apparently changed.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Don’t give me that Danielle,” Blake closed his eyes and shook his head.
“If you were hired for the chorus two months ago why do we only get to hear
about it now? Surely you would have wanted to share such exciting news, but
there was no phone call and Laura mentioned nothing in her letters. Now
what is going on?”
Danielle glanced at her sister then turned to her parents.
“I didn’t exactly get hired two months ago, I got hired two days ago. But
the reason I didn’t come home two months ago is because around that time I
met someone, someone influential, and I got a chance to prove myself.”
“Danielle,” Blake sighed with annoyance, “you’re speaking but you’re
not saying anything.”
“All right then,” Danielle nodded, knowing that her story sounded weak.
“I met a man. I was in the dance studio one night, the last night of the six
months actually, he came in, promised to help me and did. He took us into his
home, trained me and when I was ready he arranged an audition for me.”
“He took you into his home!” Blake bellowed in shock, rising to his feet.
“Are you telling me you two are living with this man? That you went to a
stranger’s house on the night that you met him!”
Knowing that it sounded like a stupid thing to do Danielle nodded timidly.
“Are you crazy!” Blake burst out in anger. “Are you really out of your
mind! Moving in with a stranger, a man you know nothing about.” Wild eyed
he looked over at his wife who sat shaking her head in disbelief.
Knowing that she had put the cat amongst the pigeons Danielle kept her
head down and glanced over at her sister for help.
“Have you taken leave of your senses, girl?” her mother asked a lot calmer
than she felt.
“You don’t understand,” Danielle cried flying out of her seat. “You don’t
know what it was like. Our lives were miserable. We lived in a crummy one
bedroom apartment, we were hungry and we were cold. I couldn’t take it
anymore.” Looking at her sister she added, “I couldn’t do it to Laura
anymore.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Veronica said. “We would have
helped.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Danielle disagreed with violent shake of her head.
“You would have insisted we come home. I wasn’t ready for that.”
“So you went and hooked up with a stranger?”
“I knew I could trust Steve,” Danielle defended. “It was just one of those
things.”
“She’s right, Dad,” Laura said. “Steve can be trusted. I must admit that I
was a bit wary of living with him at first, but Steve has been nothing but a
perfect gentleman.”
“I don’t believe you girls,” Blake slammed a hand on the table, then turned
to his wife. “Can you figure these two out? They meet a man, and because he
promises to help with a dancing career they go home with him. A total
stranger!”
“Blake, think of your blood pressure,” Veronica warned, seeing her
husband red faced and white knuckled.
“Steve wasn’t exactly a total stranger, Dad,” Danielle explained as her
father had calmed down a bit. “As soon as Steve introduced himself I knew
who I was dealing with.”
“Steve. Does this Steve have a surname?”
“Savage,” Danielle said. “His name is Steve Savage.”
Both Danielle and Laura noticed how their parents shot a glance at each
other.
“Do you know Steve Savage?”
Another glance.
“He used to be the manager on Broadway. Then he had a car accident and
retired.”
“Is that what he told you?” Blake asked.
“No, Dad, I’ve known this for some time,” Danielle supplied. “They do
have The New York Times in Paris and Steve’s name was regularly in the
papers in association with all the major Broadway stars. Then one day there
was the announcement that he had been in a car accident.”
“And has Mr. Savage ever mentioned this accident to you?” Blake asked.
Danielle shook her head. “No, he never talks about it.”
Seeing a look of concern in her parent’s eyes, Danielle sat down again.
“There’s really no need to worry. Steve is a very nice man, he helped me a lot
and we are completely safe with him.”
Danielle prepared herself for more questions, but none came. Her father
ate what was left of his breakfast in silence, while her mother suddenly took
a great interest in what was left of her coffee.
When the butler came to announce that there was phone call for Mrs.
Hamilton, Veronica said she would take it in the living room and left the
table.
She had not even reached the door when Blake excused himself too. “I
better get to the office” he smiled. “Have a nice day and I’ll see you tonight.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Danielle said, lighting a cigarette. “Can you
believe those two? First they practically bit my head off and declared me as
insane for moving in with a stranger, then I mention Steve’s name and
suddenly everything is okay.”
Laura nodded. “And did you notice the way they looked at each other
when you mentioned Steve’s name?”
“You saw it, too?” Danielle said with a jerk of her head. “I thought I just
imagined it, but if you noticed it too then there really was something.”
Laura tapped her long nails on the wood of the table. “There’s something
they’re not telling us Danny,” she said. “Do you think they’re …”
“Hiding something?” Danielle said reaching for an ashtray. “Definitely.”