‘Yes,’ said Carlos. ‘Quickly, please.’
I started the music and took my place on the dance floor, ready to begin.
Afterwards, Carlos didn’t say a word. He went to find his phone and then he came back to collect his bag. I busied myself tidying, assuming I’d disappointed him. He probably wished he’d never asked to see me perform, because now he’d have to let me know I wasn’t up to scratch. Mind you, I didn’t think Carlos struggled with giving negative feedback – his brutal delivery was well known in the business. So why was he holding back now?
As he walked towards the exit, he stopped, looking at me over his shoulder.
‘This studio – James Jive is the name of it?’
I nodded. ‘It’s a family business.’
There was a moment of recognition on Carlos’s face. ‘You are Amahle James’s daughter.’
‘I am. Mum and Dad own this place.’
‘You used to compete, yes?’
I nodded, reminding myself to be proud of my achievements, even if they were a long time ago. ‘Junior world Latin champion. Twice.’
Carlos looked confused, as though he was struggling to understand why somebody with as much talent as I must have possessed to win those titles was now teaching tango to pensioners in a small market town.
‘Come to Pineapple Studios on Monday, two o’clock. I want to see you dance with our leading man,’ said Carlos.
I swallowed hard. ‘What?’
He couldn’t be serious. If Carlos was choreographing the show, it was going to be an almost guaranteed success. There was no way he’d want a non-pro dancer anywhere near it.
‘We are struggling to find him a partner. I think you could be what we’re looking for.’
‘But I haven’t…’
My voice faltered. I wanted to tell him I hadn’t danced professionally for years; that no leading man was going to want to try out with someone like me. My reputation might have been impressive once, but that was when I was a teenager. It counted for nothing now. I’d probably arrive at the studio only to have him point-blank refuse to dance with me, and I wouldn’t blame him.
But by the time I formulated the words of protestation in my head and put them into a coherent sentence, Carlos had left, as silently as he’d arrived.
I sank to the floor in shock as I tried to process what had just happened. He really wantedme? He really thoughtIwas good enough?
The more negative part of my brain soon kicked in, questioning whether I could face opening myself up to this kind of life all over again. The dedication it required, the competitiveness, the rejection. It meant having to tell my parents that this was what I wanted after all, even after all this time, because what would that mean for them and the business I’d helped them build?
But even though my head was saying no, that it was too late, that I was an excellent studio manager, that I couldn’t up and leave just because I fancied being a dancer again, I felt a thrill deep inside of me that I hadn’t experienced for a very long time.
I was probably worrying for nothing, anyway – I wouldn’t get the part. How could I, when my audition skills were rusty at best?
Yet my heart was singing to an entirely different tune: I still had it. I still had it. I still had it.
CHAPTER TWOGabriele
As morning light filtered through my eyelids, I slowly became aware that somebody was lying under the duvet next to me. This was not unusual in itself – I was a single man, of course I had women in my bed on occasion, and it was never difficult to find someone who wanted to spend time with me. What was unusual was that she was still here in the morning. Usually, I made some excuse about having to get up early so that she’d leave and I could sleep in peace. I must have crashed out before I could insist upon it.
My eyes eased themselves open and I glanced, bleary-eyed, at the clock on my bedside table. It was 7.30am.Jesus.
I threw back the covers; Ihadto get up. I had already missed my gym slot: 6am was when I worked out longestand hardest, and with the show opening in just three weeks, it was more important than ever that I be in the best shape of my life. After that I had some errands to run, my mother to call and I had to be at Pineapple Studios for midday for a meeting with Carlos, followed by yet more auditions. No, I definitely did not have time to be languishing in bed as late as this.
On the pillow next to me, Jasmine’s dark hair fanned out as she stirred. At least Ithoughther name was Jasmine – we hadn’t actually talked much the previous night.
I reached over and ran my fingers along her arm, tugging at her hand. She moaned as her eyes opened.
‘Ciao,’ I whispered.
