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Easy Rumba

Page 2

by Edwards, Anna


  I enjoy the show as well. It’s a dance contest where celebrities are paired with professional dancers and have to learn routines and compete each week until one of them wins. It’s reality television, but one of my favorites.

  “I don’t know. They usually film it in Hollywood, which would’ve prevented me from doing it. However, this year they’ve moved it to Louisiana for the first time, making it simple for me to do. The studio is only an hour away. I wouldn’t need to disrupt Izzy’s schooling, and the truth is I’m not sure I’m ready to return to acting yet, but I want to do something. I want to challenge myself even if only to prove to myself I can do it.”

  “I think it’s a brilliant idea. I’ll help with Izzy. It’s off season now for Rhys, so we’ll not be traveling for a couple months.”

  My stomach turns, and I feel sick. I’ve not thought about doing anything in the spotlight for a long time. I’ve shied away from it. After the divorce was made public and I left Hollywood, the press chased after me, trying to get a story. I don’t think many people believed irreconcilable differences were the true reason for the split, especially as I was covered in bruises from a supposed burglary that was never reported to the police. Eventually, they realized they wouldn’t be getting anything different out of me and left Izzy and me in peace to get on with our lives.

  “I just don’t know if placing myself back into the spotlight is the right thing to do. I’ve not heard anything from Simon in over a year now, and I’m happy about that. I’m not living in fear of a beating should I do anything he perceived as wrong…”

  “But…”

  “I’m bored, and spending most of my days going to lunches and shopping with my mama is driving me insane. I’ve missed you while you’ve been away the last few weeks, and the other girls have all been busy too. You all have hectic lives. Maybe I should look at applying to a nearby acting school as a teacher? It would give me something to do.”

  “So you can teach all your mama’s and my mama’s friends to act and perform a show once a year to raise money for a local charity? Elise, I remember you telling me you took the lead part in all the school shows from the moment you started there. Acting is in your blood. Being in the spotlight is what you need to feel happy. Okay, this offer isn’t an acting role, it’s dancing, but it is the one that’s caught your interest enough to put in your handbag and bring to me. Why should Simon be the one on our movie screens every few months, starring in some new action movie where he kills the baddies and gets the girl? He’s a bully, plain and simple. What he did to you was wrong, and he got away with it. If I’d been there, I would have told him what for. However, I didn’t know you well enough back then. I only knew you as the first-rate actress who made me cry on Rhys’s shoulder when watching your amazing films. But I do know you now, and I say give them a call immediately. Tell them you’ll do it and ask them to pair you with a hunky dancer, so you can get your groove back...and now I’m rambling.”

  “It would be fun to dance with a sexy man. I had a few lessons when I first went to Hollywood, but I’m not good enough to be a professional, by any means. It’ll be a lot of hard work.”

  “One on one with a sweaty man,” Gabby purrs, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

  “I’m not sure that’s a positive thing.” I wrinkle up my nose.

  “You’ve not been getting sweaty with the right men then.”

  At that moment, Rhys chooses to walk in through the door, rubbing a towel over his hair that’s damp with perspiration from his workout. Gabby certainly has landed on her feet with her handsome, green-eyed giant of a man.

  “See what I mean?” Gabby turns her head up to receive a kiss from her husband.

  “See what I mean, what?” Rhys looks confused.

  “Nothing,” she replies, winking at me. “Elise has been asked to appear on a celebrity dancing show. I’m just telling her I think she should do it.”

  “Sound goods. If you need help with Izzy, she’s always welcome here.”

  “See, the right man,” Gabby sing-songs, and I shake my head at her.

  “I’ll think about it. Now, can we change the subject please? I want to hear more about Chicago. It’s somewhere I’ve never ever been.”

  Chapter 2

  Leo

  The rhythm of the Latin song beats deep within me as my hips shake and thrust toward the woman I’m spinning around my body. Angelique is my partner in all things ballroom but nowhere else. She’s been happily married to Jo, her wife, for a couple years, now.

  Angelique’s bright purple hair whips around my head as I lift her in a twisting circle before setting her back down and sashaying forward with the other dancers in our routine. We’ve been rehearsing for the upcoming show for the last two weeks, and in a few days, we’ll meet our celebrity partners—I can’t wait.

  This is my first year on the show after dancing professionally all over the world since I left school at eighteen. I’ve won numerous competitions and titles. I’m currently the American Latin champion. It was time for a change, though, and a new challenge. This is perfect for me. Especially with the added bonus of all the women falling at my feet because I’m a professional dancer on television.

  The routine finishes, and we all cheer a job well done.

  “Are you joining us for dinner tonight?” I ask Angelique as she packs her shoes into her bag.

  “Not tonight. Jo’s flying in for the weekend, so we’re going to do some sightseeing and have dinner together, just the two of us.”

  “How are you finding being apart from her?” With the show moving to Louisiana for this season, a lot of the dancers have had to leave behind loved ones during filming. I’m not bothered, though. I love Louisiana. It’s where I grew up. Well, here, and Spain during the summer holidays because my mamá is Spanish. I’ve got the dark looks to prove it.

  “I’m used to it. It’s a part of what we sign up for. I knew when I first started I’d be traveling a lot. I would prefer it if the show was still in Hollywood, but I can understand why they moved it. At least, I get to live in New Orleans for a while, which is a dream of mine come true. I just hope I get a celebrity partner who’s able to train with me in New Orleans during the week rather than in New York or somewhere else.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

  This is her third year on the show. We’ve been dancing professionally together for a few years, and it was Angelique who persuaded me to replace the departing male star dancer, who’s dominated the headlines since the show began. ‘They need a younger, more handsome model,’ were her words, and I couldn’t say no to that.

  “Have you thought about which female celebrity you’d like to partner? There are some interesting rumors being bandied about. A few beautiful ladies have been mentioned.”

  “I don’t care what they look like just as long as they can dance. I’ve not signed up to the show only to be eliminated after a couple weeks. I want to go all the way to the final.”

  “Competitive as ever, I see.” Angelique laughs softly, filling the room with the warmth of her genuine kindness.

  I finish packing my bag and escort her safely to her car. Then having dumped my own belongings in my car, I head over to the nearby bar where I know some of the other dancers will be congregating.

  There’s a variety of ages and backgrounds between us. Some, like Angelique, are married or in committed relationships, but many are single like me. It’s not that I don’t like women, it’s just I’ve never met the woman I want to settle down with. There was one girl at school—we grew up together. I could have seen myself happily married to her, but we drifted apart after she moved to Hollywood and I traveled to Europe for dance training. Maybe one day I’ll settle down, but at thirty-two, I’m happy the way I am for now.

  “Leo,” my closest friend in the group, a Russian dancer named Alexis, calls me over. “I got you a beer.”

  “Thanks.”

  He hands me the beverage, and I take a long sip. We
don’t drink much alcohol because it doesn’t help our bodies stay trim for dancing, but every so often, we like to have a few.

  “Are you getting nervous?” Alexis asks, but his eyes aren’t on me. He’s surveying the bevy of beautiful women in the room.

  There’s definitely a positive to the show being down in New Orleans. The women are a lot curvier here than the stick thin actresses in Hollywood.

  “Why would I?” Shrugging my shoulders, I take another mouthful of my beer

  “You’re a virgin compared to the rest of us,” Alexis teases with a knowing wink.

  I let out a bellowing laugh, and a few people in the room turn to look at us.

  “I think my ‘v’ card sailed a long time ago, mate. I’ve been doing competitions longer than you have.”

  “But not winning them.”

  In the grand total of wins, Alexis is one ahead of me. But then, I specialize in Latin American dance where he’s better known for his ballroom skills, the easier of the two disciplines if you ask me. Nobody can compare the technical aspects of a rumba to a waltz

  I show him my middle finger and turn my attention to the women at the bar. Alexis and I have been staying in a hotel since we arrived here, and he intends to stay there for the duration of the show. But next week, I move to an apartment of my own, which the show has helped me rent. I wanted the home comforts of my own place. I grew up near here, and I’ve already felt my love for New Orleans rekindled since coming back, despite the fact I’ve no family living here anymore. Hollywood has never been my sort of place, too phony and too many lies.

  “Hi.” An attractive blonde in a tight, teal dress and two-inch heels edges my way. “I’m Delia. You fancy a dance?”

  She’s pretty, and even though I’m not looking for anything serious, I fancy getting off tonight. I’ve been too busy with training for the last few weeks. I’m not exactly a man-whore, but when I’m on downtime from competition, I like to let loose a bit. One night of fun won’t hurt, and then I’ll get straight back into my routine. I meant what I said to Angelique earlier—I want to win this show. I really do hope I get a partner who’s ready to work.

  “Sure thing,” I respond with a smile.

  Getting to my feet, I lead her onto the dance floor as a Latin rhythm comes over the speakers. I mold the blonde to my body and show her just what my hips can do. She’s a good mover—not up to my standard, of course, but then I do train for at least fourteen hours a day. We dance to a couple more songs before we head back to the bar.

  I still haven’t told her my name, and I probably should, but I can’t be bothered. It keeps it less personal. Something I learned from my father after he left my mamá. The less they know about you, the better. It’s probably why I haven’t seen him in almost fifteen years. My mamá moved back to Spain when I left home. I did consider staying in Europe with her once I’d finished my training, but America has always been my home, and something drew me back here. I’ve yet to find out what it is.

  “I could do with a drink. You certainly know how to move.” Delia bites her lip and looks up at me from under long, dark lashes.

  I’m certain she’s wearing extensions. I’ve seen enough of them to last me a lifetime. Angelique refuses to wear them, despite the protests of many a dance manager. She also uses minimal spray tan, which is one of my pet hates too. Thankfully, my Spanish heritage gives me a perfect tan as soon as I step outside in the sun, so I don’t need to enhance my coloring as much as some of the other dancers.

  “What would you like?” I motion for the bartender. “A beer and...”

  “A glass of rosé, please,” Delia responds.

  The bartender pours our drinks, and we make small talk while we wait. She doesn’t sound as if she’s from New Orleans. But I can’t quite place the twang in her accent.

  “Where are you from?”

  “New York. I’ve been trying to lose the accent since I came here, but it hasn’t worked. I think it’s ingrained.”

  “Why would you want to lose it?”

  The bartender hands us our drinks, and I pay. We find a table where we can continue talking. She doesn’t ask my name, and I don’t volunteer it.

  “People seem to think I’m part of the mafia or something when they hear the accent. It’s silly. I’m a student here, working part-time to fund my way through college.”

  “Why didn’t you stay in New York?”

  “New Orleans and the history has always fascinated me. I’m researching spiritual activity, so it’s a good place to come.”

  “It certainly is. The house I grew up in was haunted by an old lady who’d died there years before. I’m sure my mamá told me she’d fallen down the stairs, chasing another ghost out of the house. Then again, my mamá was always making up stories like that to scare me.”

  “She sounds a lot like mine.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Alexis on the dance floor with a girl. His hands are all over her. My friend is definitely the male slut of the show. He adores the attention from the females.

  “Did you grow up here? I thought you were a dancer from the show.”

  “So that’s why you singled me out.”

  I wink, and Delia blushes crimson.

  “My friend was after Alexis. She’s dancing with him now. She dared me to speak to you and have some fun.” Delia rolls her eyes at the last word.

  “I’m guessing you don’t really want fun?”

  I pick up from her tone that something is wrong, and maybe she’d prefer to be at home with a cup of hot cocoa rather than here, talking to me.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve probably acted like a real tease. My boyfriend and I broke up last week. We’d been together for five years, and my friend, Anna-Marie, thinks I should jump straight back on the horse, so to speak, and move on.”

  “Five years is a long time.”

  I peer over Delia’s shoulder and see Alexis leading her friend off the dance floor and to the back of the bar.

  He winks at me, and thrusting his hips, he mouths, “Go for it, Latin king.”

  Turning my attention back to Delia, I watch as she circles her finger around the rim of her wine glass a few times. She’s not drunk any of it, and the beer in my hand suddenly feels like it’s warm and three days old.

  “You know what, I think Anna-Marie might be with Alexis for a few hours. Why don’t we get a bite to eat, and then I’ll drive you home?”

  “Just home?”

  “Just home. You need to get over your boyfriend before you go riding any more horses.”

  Delia chuckles softly.

  “Thank you…”

  “Leo, Leo Westwood, I’m the newest dancer on the show, but I’m going to be the winner.”

  “Well I’ll be voting for you, for sure,” Delia says, taking my hand as we leave the bar.

  Later that night while holding my dick and pleasuring myself, I can’t help my thoughts drifting to the only woman I’ve ever considered marrying. Her sweet laugh, her brunette hair cascading down her back, and the sparkle in her eyes full of optimism for her future. We drifted apart, but I don’t really understand why I let it happen. I’ll probably never know, which makes me think I’m destined to live alone for the rest of my life.

  Chapter 3

  Elise

  “You stupid, fucking bitch, how could you think you’d show me up in front of our friends and get away with it? Are you thick in the head or something? I can’t believe it,” Simon screams at me.

  His booming voice fills the room, and he’s shaking his fists around like a madman, gesturing his anger as well as voicing it. I’m not entirely sure what I’ve done. Tonight we went to a fundraising event for a local charity. There was a stunning portrait for auction of a little girl playing with a ball on a beach in Malibu. I adored it and thought it would go perfectly in my office, so I bid on it. I got it for a price I could easily afford, considering I earn a few million each movie I make, but it seems to have angered Simon that I’ve purchased it. H
e stomps over to where the picture, wrapped up for its protection, leans against our white leather sofa. Before I have a chance to stop him the picture is flying through the air and hits the wall on the opposite side of the room. Next thing I know, Simon rushes over and starts jumping on it.

  “Stop, please.” I’m desperately trying to plead with him and rescue the painting at the same time, but it’s little more than firewood now—the canvas is ruined, and the frame smashed.

  “You picked the most idiotic thing in the room to purchase, and I told you to stop bidding, but you didn’t. You made it look as though I can’t control my own wife. Everyone now thinks I allow you to spend money like it’s going out of fashion and especially on rubbish. The artist was crap. In fact, the whole event was a waste of my time. It’s the last charity event I do. It’s just another means to take advantage of us.”

  “Simon, really? That’s not true.”

  I’ve never seen him so angry before. It’s scaring me a little. We married two years ago after a whirlwind romance. Our feelings for each other blossomed when we presented an award together and went for a drink afterward. I wasn’t sure at first about starting a relationship as I’d only been in Hollywood a year, but I’d made exceptional progress and had just been lined up for my first major starring role. Simon was a couple years older than me and was already a household name in the action movie scene. We married in his mansion with all our friends from Hollywood watching. The rights to the wedding pictures were sold to a celebrity magazine, and I spent the entire day with a camera in my face. It wasn’t exactly how I envisaged my big day, but I knew Simon had an important project coming up, and the advertising was good for him.

  “Since I married you, people aren’t interested in me. All they want to know about is you. It’s as though I don’t exist anymore. It’s all about you, always you.”

  “Simon, please, you’re the bigger star out of the two of us easily. I’ve done virtually nothing compared to the movies you’ve been in.” I try to calm him down by pressing my body against his and using the warmth of it to soothe whatever is causing this terrifying anger. “Please, you’re scaring me.” I press my forehead against his, willing him to remember the love he has for me. I need that side of him now to calm the nervous tension drowning me at the moment.

 

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