Chapter Two
Casey sat up on her bed. She bit her lip with anticipation as she thought about what she should say to this groomsman. His name was sloppily scribbled in Emily's messy cursive. Venturi. It must be a last name. Maybe he was the kind of guy who went by last names? Either way, Casey continued to think of what she should say to this mystery person as she held her phone intact.
Casey 8:00pm: Hey, Mr. Venturi. I got your number from my friend Emily. She mentioned you may be interested in a few dance lessons before the wedding coming up. I am available every morning this week at six am and every evening at nine pm. Let me know if you are interested and which days' work for you. -Casey
Casey dropped her phone on her bed. She smiled as she exited the room. She felt confident in her word choices to this mystery guy.
The rest of the evening, Casey had helped her mother craft. They spent some much-needed mother daughter time as they laughed over a glass of wine. Casey had just turned twenty-one, but wine with her Mom was a normal since she was nineteen.
"When can I drink wine?" Lizzy slammed her body down on the couch.
"Well, Liz, you are only seventeen, so… never?" Casey smiled. Lizzy shot her an evil snare.
"When you are mature enough to understand it is just to relax and wind down with, not to actually abuse it." Nora, their mother began saying. "And when you are at least eighteen." She added, knowing both her girls were more responsible than most girls their age. They all three laughed as they finished watching the rest of the chick flick, When Harry Met Sally, one of Casey's favorite films.
By the time Casey had looked at the clock, it was nearly two am. She didn't realize how much she had missed her family until the guilt set in, she was only there for a fourteen more days. Pain struck deep in her throat as she covered her Mom and sister with a blanket from the back of the couch. She grabbed the wine bottles and returned them to the kitchen before returning up to her room.
Upon returning to her bed, she realized she had a few text messages.
Mr. Venturi 9:30pm: Damn, what kind of Keener gets up that early? I have a hockey game that should be over by 9:30-10 tomorrow night. Can you meet then?
Casey's face reddened with frustration. What kind of jerk calls someone he has never met a 'keener'? And six am was seriously not even early. Here Casey was, going out of her way to HELP someone who just insults her? She began texting him back with fingers so aggressive, you would have thought they were tap dancing.
Casey 2:13 am: I am sorry I bothered you. I was under the understanding YOU needed MY help. It's okay… I will use my time more wisely as you seem to have better things to do. Good luck, Venturi.
Casey was here on short term business. She had family to spend time with and a wedding to help gather. If someone wasn't going to take her time seriously, then she just won't give it. She pulled off her clothes from the day and replaced them with her pink cotton pajamas. She neatly placed her dirty clothes in her hamper. She looked in the mirror at herself. She looked so much different than her high school days. She had the same facial looks, but her eyes showed more wisdom. She wasn't as naïve as she used to be either. She missed the old days but she was proud of where she was going in life. Never did she imagine herself dancing for a living. Plus living in New York City, man she really loved life there. She had friends she would go out with on the weekends. She has a roommate who is works at Bloomingdales- hello discounts! She has her Dad, who also has a busy schedule, but it is nice to have family near. She had life going pretty well.
But no matter how good it was in New York; she couldn't help but miss the quiet life she had back home in Canada. She wishes she could be closer for her best friend. She wishes she could have more home cooked meals with her mother and sister. Dinner in New York was either leftover takeout or fancy restaurant food – which she honestly couldn't care less about. She missed her life back at home. It took her all the way until that minute to realize it too.
Casey brushed her long brown locks before turning in for bed. Just as she got under the covers, she heard her phone beep.
Mr. Venturi 2:24 am: Woah! Relax. I wasn't trying to offend you or anything.
Casey rolled her eyes. Relax? Who does this guy think he is? That is just as rude as calling someone a Keener. She was going to ignore the message until another one popped up.
Mr. Venturi 2:25 am: If you want to dance with me that bad, I can make 6 am work. But only because you really want me to. ;)
Casey's heart fluttered as she couldn't believe the nerve of this guy.
Casey 2:26 am: How about you learn some respect? You have ONE chance Venturi. After that, I am out. I did my part to help out Em. Make sure you are on time. I don't have time to wait around for you.
Mr. Venturi 2:28 am: I gotta admit, I love the way you call me Venturi. ;) And you don't have to worry, I will be there on time, Princess.
Casey's head flew back so hard out of frustration. The nerve of this guy. She swore she would show him just how serious she is. Dancing is no joke. It is life. Her life. And what the hell was up with those smiley's? What if she had a boyfriend? What if he has a girlfriend? That was some pretty heavy flirting for someone you don't even know. What if she had been some older woman – or man for that matter. She already got a sense of what kind of guy this 'Venturi' was, and she didn't like it.
She didn't even know why it bothered her. Her frustration grew with the scenarios she made up in her head. This guy- who she has never even met- has gotten this much of a reaction out of her. She tried imagining what he looked like. All she could think of was some stupid Abercrombie and Fitch looking wannabe. And how wrong was it of her to stereotype like that? She hated judgement but that was exactly what that guy brought out of her.
Before she knew it, two thirty turned into three thirty, which turned into four and so on. She got no sleep.
She looked at her alarm clock at four fifty-nine and just as it was about to go off, she slammed her hand against it. She lifted her heavy head off her fluffy pillow. She thought about which songs to use for her dance session. A few came to mind. Her hair was going to have to make do. She sprayed some dry shampoo up into the roots, slathered her fingers from the roots to the ends and settled for the messy wavy look for the day. She threw on a pair of cute grey sweats and her white crop top shirt that she loved dancing in. Over the crop top, she wore a grey jacket. You know, just in case this guy was as weird as his text messages.
She turned the corner to the dance studio and parked in the back. She was just about to get the spare key she had hidden when a nearby jogger nearly ran into her. The guy stopped abruptly, hovering tall over Casey. She swore she let out a high-pitched squealing sound and flinched as the guy nearly scared the life out of her.
"What was that?" The guy tried clearing his ears as if she made him go deaf. She looked at him, breathlessly. He looked familiar to her. His brown mossy eyes were so captivating. As if she could just get swept away in them. She looked a little harder before realizing it was the guy from the wedding shop! The one she was totally – secretly – crushing on from behind the mirrors. She made a face before quickly making it disappear. This guy wasn't supposed to know she was totally creeping on him.
"Hey," He said, extending his hand out. "I'm Derek." He smiled. She smiled while taking his large hand within hers. He was warm, sweaty but also so dreamy. She wasn't the type to get all mushy over a dude, but he was a spitting image of her dream guy. And he was so tall. She melted at the sight of a tall guy.
"Hey Derek." Casey said. "I am Casey." She said.
"Actually, you can call me Venturi." He said. "You know I like that better." He winked before walking inside the door, leaving her outside with her mouth gaped wide open.
So that is Derek Venturi.
