Page 111 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2
I didn’t want to touch them, was certain they’d worked a voodoo hoodoo spell into the paper and once I touched it, they would have my unwilling authority to film everything I did. Mrs Noolan stood. Dante and I followed suit. We all shook hands.
“Contact my office at any time and we can get the ball rolling.” She gathered her stuff up and I watched Dante walk her out my office. From the moment the door shut behind them I began the countdown.
“Are you out of your damned mind?” Ten minutes, twenty-seven seconds. He must have walked her to her car.
“Umm, no,” I replied as he slammed the door shut. Dante was his usual fine self. T-shirt moulding the lines of his upper body while his slacks showed off his strong legs as he stalked up and down the office.
“Do you understand the kind of exposure this will bring us?” he literally snarled at me.
“D,”
“No.No!I don’t want to hear whatever chicken shit reason you’ve thought up. This is what we’ve been working towards, Madi. Dreaming about since we were kids. I will not let you run from this.We are doing it.”
I walked around my desk, gearing up for the upcoming fight. Yeah, I knew when a showdown was brewing. “Dante, I’m not letting the media into my private life. Are you crazy? Matt will flip!”
Dante opened his mouth, then closed it. Incredulity shone from his handsome dark face. He shook his head slowly at me. “I left everything for you,” Dante said. “And you’re worried about how Matt will react? This has nothing to do with him. This is about us. This is our chance, Madi. I won’t let you fuck it up.”
I stumbled back until my legs hit the desk. The way Dante looked at me…as if he didn’t know me-
“I never asked you to leave your career back home.” My voice was small, thick with shame. He had given up what could’ve been a brilliant career. If he hadn’t left with me I had no doubt he would have been headlining years ago.
“You didn’t need to, sweet cheeks.” Dante ran a hand over his braided hair. “I’m a better dancer with you anyway. Look, I know what you’re doing. This isn’t about Matt and the media. It’s you being afraid of failing. You still believe all that bullshit you were fed at our old company back home, don’t you? You still think there’s no way you, a black ballerina, can really shine. But you can, others have done it. Don’t run from your chance to prove them wrong. Don’t run, Madi. We ran once, and I don’t want to again.”
I turned away from him. Turned away from the harsh truth of his words. What did I expect? Dante knew me in a way no one else did. We’d been together almost from the jump, and he was right. I was scared. What if I wasn’t good enough?
Dante came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder as the chill from his clothing seeped through my back. It was early days in April and there was still a bite in the British weather.
“Remember that night we jumped off the pier at Brighton Beach? You were sixteen. Bret and Sol said we were-”
“Crazy,” I finished with a sigh. “Before they jumped in too. It was my birthday and we were high as fuck. That Russian dude was pissed I had spray-painted his car and wouldn’t stop chasing us. God. The water was cold that night.”
“Jump with me now, sweet cheeks. Let’s jump.” He tightened the hug and I leaned against him.
That night I had felt fearless. Searching an escape from the pain of my parents’ death. Back then I would do just about anything to feel alive. I chuckled under my breath at the memories of my yearly innocent charade as Sol and I would convince Aunt Cleo we were having a sleep over at her house. I think my aunt knew deep down I wasn’t being the good girl she expected me to be. But she saw the pain in my eyes and would nod before reminding us the devil found work for idle hands. Sol would roll her eyes at me then smile at Aunt Cleo, agreeing with her and reciting what she’d learnt at Sunday Mass.
I broke out of the trip down memory lane and nodded. “Ok, Dante, but there will have to be some rules. I know Matt is not going to be happy about this.” I bit my lower lip. “They can’t film my private life. Matt won’t allow that.”
“We’ll work something out.” Dante said eagerly.
“And all our dancers have to be on board with it.”
He squeezed me tighter. “They will be. Trust me, they will be.”
I sighed and gently patted his hands, indicating my desire to be released from his hug. “Alright then. I’m meeting Matt for lunch, I’ll break the news to him then.” Another heavy sigh left my lips before I turned my thoughts to work. “Have you sent off the forms to the Arts Council?”
Dante pulled away and I spun around to face him.
He nodded. “Yes. I’ve also arranged some visits with three primary schools in your absence. Gerrard, Lisa and Liam will be going to speak to the classes. Umm, you have done your DBS check, haven’t you?”
“My what?” I asked, eyebrows pulling together in a frown. Dante grimaced at me then tapped me across the head. Douche.
“Disclosure and Barring Service check,” he drawled out sarcastically. “The old CRB checks. Damn, sweet cheeks, you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your neck.”
I smacked the side of his head back. Newton’s third law was sotrue.
“Of course I have, everyone got it done last year.” I scoffed. “Go get me a fresh cup of coffee. We have to go through our accounts before classes start for the day. This year I want everything sorted well in advance before we have to file with HMRC.”
Dante burst out into raucous laughter. “Yeah right, what was the fine last year?”
