Easy Rumba

by Edwards, Anna

  The tall, slender teenage boy has gone. He’s really grown into his body and filled out, muscles upon muscles. A tattoo sleeve runs down his left arm, and I long to explore what’s on it. But it’s his hips that have captured my attention the most. The way he moves them is like he’s making love right then and there on the dance floor. I can’t help wondering what he’d be like in bed now, and that’s so unlike me. Since I left Simon, I’ve not wanted to even think about another man. They’re all the same in my eyes, tarnished. But something about Leo is drawing me to him, and I can’t take my eyes off him.

  My phone rings from within my bag. Reaching down, I pull it out and check the caller ID. I don’t recognize the number. Answering it, I step out into the hallway, hoping there’s nothing wrong with Izzy. Gabby said she could stay with her after school today much to Izzy’s delight as she wanted to play baseball with Rhys and Sam.

  “Elise Landry.”

  “You never had any intention of using my name, did you?” I almost drop the phone when Simon’s voice comes from the other end. “Have you changed my daughter’s surname yet?”

  “S-Simon,” I stumble over his name as I walk farther away from the dance studio. Thankfully, the corridor is quiet. “What do you want? I thought we weren’t supposed to contact each other?” I’d changed my number when I moved here, so he wouldn’t be able to call me.

  “I think I can do whatever I want, Elise. You owe me that after what you put me through.”

  I swallow deeply. After I left Simon, I had counseling for several months. My confidence was, and still is, at rock bottom. I needed to accept I wasn’t responsible for his abuse. One thing the counselor advised me was to never rise to any taunting from him if we were in contact again. That was where Simon’s power over me came from before I left him—the fact that he could provoke a reaction from me. I needed to stay calm and placid in the face of whatever he was about to throw at me.

  “Of course, Simon. How can I help you? If it relates to Izzy, we should go through all the proper legal channels.” I inwardly high five myself for my response.

  “Why would I want anything to do with her? You’ve had a year to poison her against me. She’ll be as useless to me as you are now. Besides, my new girlfriend is pregnant with a boy. At least she can get that right. She’s so much better at everything than you. She doesn’t try to show me up in front of all our friends or answer back when I pull her up when she does something wrong. She just gets on with it. And she’s a far better fuck than you ever were. She lets me take her in the ass and everything. Doesn’t just lay there like it’s her duty to have my dick inside her—she actually enjoys it. Makes it so much easier to come when the other person is willing.”

  Simon’s words cut deep. I always knew he wanted Izzy to be a boy, but fate decreed otherwise, and he blamed me for it. I love the fact she’s a girl with her own mind and personality, and I wouldn’t have her any other way. But that independence and individuality is what Simon truly hates. As for his comments on his new girlfriend, I wonder what she’d think if she knew her lover talked to his ex-wife about her in that way.

  “I’m glad you’ve found someone more compatible.” The words stick in my throat like a lump of coal, “Congratulations. Izzy will be thrilled to have a half-brother. I’ll let her know.”

  “Why? She’ll never meet him. Don’t even bother telling her. I want nothing to do with my bastard child now.”

  I fall silent. I can’t answer that comment.

  He’s trying to get a rise out of you.

  Don’t give in to it.

  The door to the dance studio opens, and one of the other celebrities hobbles out with a personal assistant in tow. The diva rock star screams about needing a spa bath and painkillers before they disappear down the corridor.

  Turning my attention back to the phone call, I simply say, “Simon, I’m in the middle of something. Would you mind getting to the point of your call, please?” The words probably come out bitchier than I intended. So much for staying calm, but there’s only so much nasty talk about my daughter I can take.

  “And what are you in the middle of?” he replies sarcastically. “It can’t be anything important because you’re not supposed to be working.”

  “We agreed I wouldn’t work for a year. That time’s over now.”

  “And you had to jump straight back into the limelight, didn’t you? One of the biggest shows on television invites you to take part, and you can’t say no. What about the story we spun of you not wanting the Hollywood life anymore? It’s another example of you trying to make me look stupid.”

  Well, gossip travels quickly in the movie industry. I wonder who it was who let him know. If I ever find out, I’ll…

  “I’m not after a Hollywood life. The show is being filmed down the road from where I live in New Orleans.”

  “But it will get you back on the big screen. You were supposed to fuck off and be the boring little housewife mothering our daughter to death.”

  “It will only allow me to return to the big screen if I choose to take up an offer. Besides, the contract you made me sign, giving me full custody of our daughter so you couldn’t hurt her, won’t allow me to work in Hollywood ever again.”

  I flip. The calm person inside me has gone. I can’t believe he’s doing this. We’re divorced now. He has no say in my life. As long as I stick to the rules, which I am, he can’t come at me. I won’t let him try to control my life any longer. This show won’t reflect on him in any way, and I don’t plan on doing anything else after this. Appearing on this show is simply a way to improve the confidence he destroyed.

  “I’m afraid, Simon, that if you didn’t want me to act or appear in the entertainment industry ever again, you should have stated that in the contract. I can assure you that by appearing on this show, I’m not breaking any of the rules you placed on me. Unlike you, I would never do anything to jeopardize losing my daughter. Now, please excuse me. I have to get back to learning some more intricate steps with my rather handsome dance partner. His hips, by the way, move a lot better than yours ever did when you were fucking me. Don’t call me again. If you do, I’ll have my lawyer contact you about harassment.”

  I prepare to hang up, but I can hear Simon growling down the phone. His breath is ragged from the powerful rage surging through his body because I’ve dared speak to him like that.

  “You hit me, Simon. You broke my arm, and you did it in front of our daughter. You got away with it, so I suggest you go back to your new girlfriend, who likes to take it up the ass, and focus on the baby boy she’s carrying before she realizes just what a bully you are.”

  I hang up and collapse my head forward against the wall. I’m breathing fast, trying to get air into my lungs. I can’t believe I just did that. My hands shake, and I drop my phone, but before it lands on the floor, a feminine hand reaches out to grab it. I jump around, startled, and see Leah Winters holding my phone.

  “My ex-boyfriend put me in hospital one night. He’d been drinking heavily and was angry because I hadn’t waited up for him to come home so he could have sex with me. He’s in prison now because he…” She doesn’t need to continue. I know instantly what he did to her that night. I feel every painful moment in my own body. I’ve been there. I’ve had it done to me. She continues, “This job gave me hope and a new life. I know I can be a bitch and shout a lot, but I love it.”

  I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

  “Please, you can’t tell anyone about what you just heard. I couldn’t face going to court and having to give evidence against Simon. All I wanted…needed was to get my daughter away from him, so I decided to let him get away with it,” I try to explain the reason for what I did. I don’t know why I feel I need to, but I do. She was stronger than me. She got justice. I took the easier option, and I’ve just been berated by the man who controlled my life with force for over ten years.

  “Nobody will hear anything about it from me. You have my word, but on the cond
ition that you won’t leave the show. As you said, you need to do this to improve your confidence.”

  “I don’t know. If he’s causing trouble now...” I already want to run for the hills and hide. I’ll need to read the contracts again and make sure there isn’t anything in there that would allow him to take Izzy from me, even if he is claiming he doesn’t want her.

  Leah falls silent and looks down at the clipboard in her hand.

  “You know Leo Westwood from somewhere?”

  I nod.

  “We grew up together.”

  “Does he know about your husband?”

  This time I shake my head.

  “Apart from Simon and me, only our lawyers and our daughter know.”

  “Would you stay if I paired you with Leo?”

  “What?”

  “If I pair you with him, the fact you know each other may give you the strength to fight whatever your ex-husband decides to throw at you. Elise, you can’t let him win.”

  There are tears in her eyes, which I know she’s shedding not only for me but also for the memories she’s suppressed and had to work through in the past. A fellow domestic abuse survivor. She has everything she wants now but recognizes the symptoms of fear in me. I’ve just stood up to Simon, and with Leah and Leo on my side, I can do this.

  I know I’m in the right.

  I always have been.

  “Yes, I’ll stay,” I finally respond.

  “Then I’ll make it happen.”

  Leah reaches out and gives my hand a little squeeze before handing back my phone and marching off in the other direction toward the ladies’ toilets. She disappears, and I look down at my phone when a text message appears on it.

  ‘You’ll regret that.’

  Chapter 6

  Leo

  “And the final celebrities of the night to be partnered up are Oscar-nominated actress, Elise Landry, and former Senator for Ohio, Cecelia Weigel,” the show's host, Vanessa Murphy, states. She’s a leggy blonde and co-presents with her husband, a comedic presenter named Chris. She's the main face of the show while he works the back room, talking to the celebrities after they’ve danced. “They will be paired up with the two remaining, fabulously handsome, male dancers, Alexis Volkov and newcomer, Leo Westwood.”

  My heart is beating so fast I think it might explode…please, please, please, let me be paired with Elise. I've got nothing against Cecelia as a person, but she can’t string a rhythm together to save her life, and she owns two left feet. I’ll almost certainly be the first person to leave the show if she partners me, and I don't want to go that soon.

  The crowd falls silent, and Vanessa reads from her card, “Elise, your partner will be...” There’s a dramatic pause. Everything is silent. My heart is now thudding harder than ever, it's rhythmic beat banging out Elise’s name…Elise, Elise, Elise…“Leo Westwood,” Vanessa announces.

  Elise screams excitedly. I jump up and down for joy. I can’t believe I'm going to be partnered with my first love. She's going to have to work hard. We’ll be doing hours upon hours of training together. It will give me the opportunity to get to know her again. The biggest positive is I'm not going to get kicked out in the first week, which now can’t be said for Alexis.

  Running over, well, rather cha-cha-ing over to Elise, I pick her up and swing her around before setting her back down on the studio floor and wrapping my arm around her waist. The host asks us several questions, and I answer, my mind going onto autopilot. I just can't believe this is happening it's crazy after so many years apart. She smells so good. I need to stop thinking like that because I can't get a hard-on in front of the cameras on live TV.

  “Elise, how do you feel about having Leo as your partner?”

  “Excited. We actually grew up in the same neighborhood, so it’s going to be good getting to know him again.”

  “That’s amazing. You must be really looking forward to working with him.”

  “I am. It's going to be so much fun,” Elise replies as she turns and smiles up at me.

  I feel a sudden urge at this point to interject with a funny anecdote from our childhood.

  “As long as she still wears those short cheerleader skirts every day, I'll be a very happy man.”

  Elise playfully pats me on the chest, and the crowd erupts into laughter.

  “I can see that you two are going to have a blast together. Ladies and gentlemen, our fifteenth pairing, Elise Landry and Leo Westwood.”

  The crowd cheers, and Elise and I go backstage while Vanessa interviews Alexis and Cecilia. We are instantly caught up in a flurry of other interviews before performing a group dance we’ve been practicing all week. The choreographed piece ends with Elise and I dancing together and culminates in her straddling my lap for a finishing position. I can’t help but notice how red her cheeks go when I make her linger there a bit longer than she did in practice.

  After the show, Elise disappears. Eventually I find her talking to a woman, I don't recognize, and a little girl in pigtails, who’s wearing a glittery outfit.

  The little girl, who can’t be older than ten or eleven years old, sees me first and excitedly starts jumping around. As I approach, Elise looks down at the floor and then back up at me from under her long eyelashes. I don’t have to look between Elise and the little girl to know she’s Elise’s daughter. She’s the spitting image of her mama.

  I go over to them.

  “Hello.” I get down to the girl's height to shake her hand.

  “Is this really Leo, Mama?” The little girl asks.

  My mind is awash with questions. Elise and I have spent a lot of time together today, and she hasn’t mentioned a husband. Where is he tonight? Why isn’t she wearing a wedding ring? Has my dream been shattered before it’s even started?

  “Yes, Izzy, this is Mr. Leo.” Elise stands next to her daughter, and the other woman takes a step back.

  “It's good to meet you, Mr. Westwood…sorry, Mr. Leo. You’re a fabulous dancer. I loved the routine you did with Angelique. She has such purple hair—I love it. I wish I could get my own hair that color. Mama says no, though.” Izzy, as Elise called her, falls momentarily silent and bites her lip. “Ooh, sorry, I'm forgetting my manners tonight. I'm just so excited. It's been amazing seeing Mama on the show.”

  I look down at the babbling little girl. She really is the spitting image of her mama—her eyes are the same color, and she even has the same little button nose. It takes my breath away and leaves me speechless. I can't believe it. I try to form something of a sensible answer.

  “You would look amazing with purple hair. Maybe we can persuade your mama to do it semi-permanently.”

  “No, it has to stay its natural color.” Elise chuckles behind me, and the other woman joins in. “Leo, this is my friend Gabrielle, but we all call her Gabby. And this little lady you’ve already met”—she ruffles her daughter’s hair—“is Isabelle, or Izzy as she prefers to be known.”

  “Your daughter?” I respond still testing the word on my tongue. Daughter.

  “Yes.” Elise pulls the little girl into her arms, and I see concern flash across her perfect features. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about her. I was caught up with everything that’s been happening over the last few days.”

  “It doesn't matter. It's been a long while since we last saw each other. There is probably a lot to learn.”

  “Yes. I think there probably is.”

  “Izzy’s father?” I question not really wanting to hear the answer.

  I suddenly realize I know nothing about Elise. I am a fan of her movies, but I’ve been too busy with my own career and traveling to follow her private life.

  “He isn't in the picture. We don’t…” A look passes between Gabrielle and Elise. It’s a look I really want to know the meaning behind—there’s something dark and foreboding about it. However, now is not the time to press her for an explanation. “…We don’t see him anymore.”

  “Well I'm happy to meet you, Miss Ga
brielle, and you too, Miss Izzy. I must admit I'm in dire need of a drink. We’ve been talking to reporters for the last hour. I’m not sure how well I’m going to do with your mama in the contest. She's absolutely awful at dancing and treads on my toes all the time.” I wink at Izzy to show her I’m teasing her mama. “We’re going to have to work very hard to get her anywhere near to dancing at a professional level.”

  “I’m not that bad.” Elise pouts.

  Gabby laughs along with Izzy.

  “How about we get some lemonade and ice cream, Izzy? You can tell us what you noted during the show, and we can discuss where your mama needs to improve.”

  “Yes, please. Can we? Please, Mama.” Izzy claps her hands excitedly.

  “Of course.”

  It doesn’t take long to find an ice cream parlor and get our food. As well as ice cream, I grab a plate of crêpes for everyone but manage to eat most of them myself.

  “So how long have you been dancing?” Gabby asks after she finishes her bowl of praline ice cream.

  “Ever since I left high school. I was awarded a scholarship at a prestigious school in London.”

  “Have you danced at the Blackpool Tower?” Izzy interrupts.

  She has chocolate ice cream smeared on the corner of her mouth. I point to the same spot on my face and then pretend to lick it clean. Izzy gets my meaning and does the same.

  “How do you know about Blackpool Tower?”

  “When Mama told me she was going on the show, I wanted to do as much research about it as possible. My friend Sam helped me. It was nice to talk to him about something other than baseball for once. We read all about the different shows around the world and all the competitions. Apparently, there is a big one in Blackpool. Can we go and see it one day, Mama? The floor wobbles and everything.”