Sexy in the City

by Alexia Adams, Galen Rose, Samantha Anne, Carolann Camillo, Nicole Flockton, Iris Leach, Olivia Logan, Nancy Loyan, Stephanie Cage (epub)

  Before too long, the room started emptying, and Lisa made it out to the foyer without exchanging more than a casual word or two with the other dancers.

  It was a relief to find Redmond waiting for her, chatting with David. Like her, he seemed to have gravitated towards the friendly, unchallenging participants, and tried to steer clear of the incipient rivalry and bitterness.

  “Ready?” Red asked, when he saw Lisa approaching, and when she nodded, he excused himself from his conversation and led her out to the car park.

  “Come on, let’s get home,” he said, throwing their costume bags in the boot.

  “Home?” Lisa was surprised that he was already referring to his flat that way. She’d been a year or two in hers before she’d started thinking of it as home.

  “Well, it’s as much of a home as I have for the next six weeks. I might as well get used to it.”

  “True.”

  Redmond already knew his way to Lisa’s flat, and after a brief pause there for her to grab a bag and some essentials, it was on to his new home. Red’s place turned out to be in a trendy south bank apartment block. It was exactly the sort of polished wood and chrome bachelor pad Lisa would have picked if she’d been asked to imagine Red’s ideal apartment.

  “Very nice,” she commented. By the standards of that sort of place, it was. It had a jacuzzi bath and built-in cinema system and, she was relieved to see, a roomy spare bedroom. All in all, he could have done worse. It felt like a very expensive hotel. It just didn’t feel like home.

  “You think? I think it’s a bit soulless, but the agent found it for me and I didn’t have a lot of time to spend on house hunting. It’s only for six weeks. But it’s hardly Rosie’s cottage, is it?

  Lisa still remembered the gorgeous seaside cottage that she and Redmond had once stopped at on the way back from a dancing competition, so that they could grab brunch with his pretty cousin at her home. Lisa’s dominant memory of the occasion now was Rosie’s chubby and domineering ginger tomcat, and she laughed as she imagined its reaction to being deposited in this gleaming pile in place of its usual cosy surroundings.

  Then the laugh turned into a yawn.

  Redmond took the hint.

  “You must be exhausted. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  And, even though Lisa knew there was a lot to talk about, with plans for their dances the next day and for the week ahead, she happily agreed. Tomorrow would be soon enough for all that.

  • • •

  Lisa slept late, and Red only woke her when it was close to time to leave for a long day’s practice and filming, so she found herself swept through breakfast, makeup, and wardrobe, and onto the dance floor, without ever having taken the conversation any further. Standing in front of Redmond as the music was about to play for their first heat dance, she couldn’t help letting her eyes wander to the other couples on the floor.

  The competition was daunting, but no worse than she and Red had handled in the past. In those days, though, they’d danced together day in, day out for months. This time, their renewed partnership was barely more than a week old. Oh, and there was the small matter of the lies they were telling just to be in the competition at all. She felt a sinking in her stomach every time she remembered the hideous, embarrassing moment when she’d set herself up for rejection. Why had she ever suggested that they should stop pretending?

  Even though she’d backtracked and pretended she’d only meant a relationship of convenience, she had the feeling that Redmond had seen into her heart and uncovered the sudden longing there … and that he hadn’t cared.

  Faced with this new rejection, there was only one thing to do. What Lisa had done all her life in good times and in bad, and done overwhelmingly better than anything else: dance.

  As if on cue, there was a drum roll leading into the brisk beat of a quickstep and the eight couples began their progress around the huge dance floor. Even with all the couples on the floor, there was all the space in the world for Lisa and Red to sweep across the centre of the floor. The designer dress had been practically sewn onto Lisa, the cerise satin clinging to every hint of a curve. She’d made the mistake of wishing out loud that she’d lost a few pounds for the show, and Red had laughed at her. The video footage would be the acid test, she supposed, if she could bear to watch it. Probably Red would make her, so that they could analyse the competition and dissect their strengths and weaknesses.

  She watched them now, surreptitiously, out of the corner of her eye, as Red whisked her from the familiar combinations of locks and runs, into an open American-style move fresh from his Florida studio. Without his sturdy body looming in front of her, it was easy to let her eyes skim from the glittering duo of Fritz and Kathrin, flicking their legs in a rapid crackerjack in one corner, to David whisking Caroline’s tall, elegant form along one edge of the floor.

  Those two couples were serious competition, she thought. Her practised eye confirmed that the Braithwaites were, as she’d expected, solid and reliable. They were good teachers too, whose appearance on the show would, if the stress didn’t erode their sense of togetherness, bring a new stream of students to the Midlands studio which was making a small reputation already as the greenhouse to a new generation of movers and shakers. But they were better teachers than they were performers, and their presence was more due to their reputation as one of the longer-lasting couples in the dance world, than to their talent or style.

  As Tiffany and Harry paused in the centre of the floor to execute a stunning sequence of scissoring moves, Lisa grudgingly admitted to herself that they were closer competition than she would have liked. Lisa had never liked Tiffany, since the day she’d overheard her whining in the dressing room at Blackpool at their first major competition. Lisa had been awed and inspired by the whole event, even though she’d gone from being a leading light in her own small world to a very small sequin in a vast galaxy of glittering stars. It had been time for the next stage, and she’d welcomed the challenge. Tiffany, on the other hand, had complained about the facilities, her coach’s decisions, her partner’s choice of routine, and the other couples’ behaviour on the dance floor.

  But there was no sign of that truculence on her face now, as she completed her manoeuvre, hovered for a moment like a bird of prey about to dive, and then swept off in Harry’s arms.

  When the figure brought Lisa face to face with Red again, he hissed at her, “Focus.” She felt like spitting angry words back at him. She knew her brief survey of the competition hadn’t affected her dancing. Her feet had been flowing smoothly the whole time, and her expression of alert enjoyment had never altered. Only the slight movements of her eyes would have told a sharp observer that her attention was on anything other than synchronising her steps perfectly with Redmond’s. And yet he’d noticed. Sometimes his powers of observation were quite uncanny.

  As if in proof of this, as they paused in a graceful sway, he gave her fingers a quick squeeze. If an outsider caught the movement at all, they would take it as a gesture of affection, but Lisa knew what it meant. Red was reminding her. Stay in the dance. She didn’t know how he even knew her mind was wandering. She took a slow breath, letting the gradual filling of her lungs coincide with her smooth shift back to an upright position ready to move off again.

  Then she was back in the moment, moving in perfect unison with Redmond across a floor that might as well have been empty, because she was totally unaware of the other couples, of the purpose of the competition, of anything except their magical gliding on a carpet of music. She was buoyed up by the speed of the music, the lively beat, the smooth velvety tones of the singer, and the warmth of Red’s strong arms surrounding her. These were the moments she lived for.

  Then her focus was shaken by a glimpse of motion from the corner of her eye, somebody approaching them, closer than another dancer should be on such a vast floor. There was no time
to brace herself for collision or move aside, only to gasp in shock as Tiffany and Harry changed direction and shot into her path, and then there was the dull pain of an elbow thudding into her jaw, followed almost instantly by the searing pain of a stiletto heel sinking, with the wearer’s entire weight behind it, into her right instep.

  Lisa heard herself let out a quiet cry as she stumbled and collapsed, her throbbing foot no longer able to support her. Red’s arms tightened around her, bearing her weight as she put down her other foot and settled her weight onto it.

  “Are you OK?” he asked, the look in his eyes turning the everyday enquiry into an expression of tenderness. It would be so easy to believe that look, and to melt into his protective embrace, but even for the cameras, she dared not let herself.

  He’s acting, she reminded herself every minute. And he was good at it. He was hanging on Lisa’s answer as if the world depended on it, and she supposed that in a sense, their world did. If she was too injured to dance, there was no chance of them going forward in the competition, and no point in the whole painful charade.

  Lisa swallowed hard and nodded. Tears had sprung to the corner of her eyes. Her jaw ached dully and her foot still felt the impression of Tiffany’s heel, but she was more shocked than damaged. She slowly set her injured foot down, and found that, although still painful, it would support its share of her body weight.

  It was only then that she thought to look around her to see how the collision had affected the other dancers. She’d expected to find Tiffany and Harry hovering nearby, perhaps nursing bruises themselves, and waiting to see if Lisa and Redmond were all right. But the space Lisa looked up into was empty, and it was only when her scanning gaze reached the far corner of the dance floor that she saw Harry and Tiffany blithely continuing with their routine. It almost looked as if they were unaware of the whole incident, except that when they spun so that Lisa caught a brief glimpse of Tiffany’s face, her sharply outlined lips were creased into a cruel smile.

  The uneasy feeling Lisa had developed when she realised who had cut into their path solidified into a certainty. The collision had been deliberate.

  “Bitch,” Lisa breathed, almost silently.

  “Shh,” Redmond silenced her. His eyes were no longer soft and kind, but hard and angry. “Don’t ever say that. You can’t prove it was deliberate.”

  “No, but I know it was.” Lisa’s voice rose to a hurt, angry wail and she winced as her slight movement, made without thought, started her foot throbbing again.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly, his head bowed so that the cameras couldn’t pick up the movement of his lips and he could have been murmuring tender words to his injured sweetheart. “You don’t know when the cameras are on you. We don’t say anything we can’t prove, ever. It’s only sinking to their level. You’re better than that.”

  The compliment should have comforted her, but it just made her angry. It was only a way of making sure she did what he said, against all her own principles. She knew what Tiffany had done, and the horrible woman didn’t deserve to get away with it. Redmond should have backed her up on that, but this wasn’t the time or place to argue about it.

  “Whatever,” she said with a brisk shrug. “Let’s dance.”

  “Can you?” The solicitous look was back, proving if proof were needed that it was all for her dancing, and not at all for her. To him she was a dancing mannequin, a human robot. That was all, but if it was all she was, she would do it well if it killed her.

  “I’ll have to, won’t I?” she said, more sharply than she’d intended. It was so hard not to show her pain and anger, not just at the incident, but at his distance and his lack of support. This once, she supposed, it didn’t matter. To him, the pain would seem to come from her aching foot and jaw, and the anger from Tiffany’s deliberate sabotage of their routine. At least, that was what she told herself. It was the only way to get through the rest of the routine without tears.

  Red’s relief as she raised her arms back into ballroom hold was palpable.

  As Lisa forced herself to swing out her damaged foot and step onto it, a tiny gasp escaped her lips, but within an instant her careful smile was back in place. The next step was easier, and the moment she was able to lift her sore foot she found a brief instant of relief, but then she had to step onto it again and again, and the fast pace of the dance jarred her over and over. There could only be a minute or so of the song left, but to Lisa it felt like a lifetime as she forced herself to follow the dancer’s mantra: keep moving, keep smiling.

  Mindful of Red’s earlier instruction, she tried to let go of her anger and focus on her dancing, but it was hard to relax into the movement through her discomfort and the continual nervousness each time she saw another couple appear in her field of vision that their approach heralded another crash.

  It was a huge relief when the music shifted from its regular beat to the drumroll that built to a final crescendo. Lisa and Redmond had practiced a pose for the ending but it relied on Lisa taking all her weight on her right foot. With a wry smile, Red led her instead into the mirror image of their practised move, and as the music cut off with a final dramatic chord, Lisa rested on her left foot and kicked her right leg high, pausing with her head thrown back for a long moment, and blessing Redmond’s thoughtfulness, because holding her weight like this on her injured foot would have been agony.

  Red signalled to her with the slightest shift of his body weight that it was time to drop the pose, and around them the other dancers too settled back to standing positions. Just when she’d expected to be hating Redmond and Tiffany in equal measure and never wanting to dance again, the audience, as if released from a spell, burst into applause, and despite her aches, Lisa felt on top of the world. In spite of Tiffany’s attack and the stiff competition from Fritz, Kathrin, Harry, and the dreadful Tiffany, Lisa knew she and Red had handled the dance well. And a small part of her was glad to have the moral high ground over Harry and Tiffany.

  But she knew the anger was still there inside, glowing like red coals ready to burst into flame again. Tiffany and Harry cheated. And Redmond did nothing. He’d never looked more brilliant than he did right now, with his Florida tan still glowing against the crisp white collar of his dress shirt. He’d never danced better than he had today, leading her smoothly through both the practised parts of their routine, and the variations forced on them by Tiffany’s antics. At this moment of bittersweet triumph, Lisa’s love and admiration for him, which had faded into the background of her life for so long, fought their way to the fore. But the simmering anger mixed with these emotions felt very close to hate.

  “That was a nasty bump,” Phillipa was saying over the dying applause. “Let’s go over to the two couples involved now, and make sure we don’t need to call an ambulance.”

  She went first to Tiffany and Harry and, with a smile almost as unconvincing as Tiffany’s, asked whether collisions were common in the quickstep, since things moved so fast.

  Lisa thought that was a stupid question, but she forced herself not to let her lips shape the thoughts, even in an undertone. There were people out there, if not in the audience here then watching at home, who could lip-read.

  “Of course accidents do happen,” Tiffany murmured silkily, “but usually when somebody makes a mistake or is careless. If you plan your routine well and keep an eye on what other people are doing, you shouldn’t clash often, and when you do, it’s quite easy to just pick yourself up and keep on going.”

  Lisa seethed at the implication that it was Lisa and Redmond who had failed in their planning or observation. Tiffany and Harry had changed direction at the last possible moment, and there was simply no way she and Red could have compensated for such deliberate bad gamesmanship. Lisa drew in a sharp breath to protest, but before she could find the right words, or indeed any words, Red’s hand lay restrainingly on her arm, and it was to hi
m that Phillipa turned with a smooth smile.

  “Well, it seems Harry and Tiffany have recovered well. Let’s see how the other couple have survived the first incident of the show. Who knew dancing could be so dangerous?”

  Redmond laughed his relaxed laugh, and Lisa fumed. It was easy for him to laugh. He wasn’t the one who was aching from head to foot, with pain and injured pride and the indignity and injustice of it all.

  “I was into football before I was into dance,” Redmond confided to the presenter, and Lisa died a little more inside as she watched his gently flirtatious manner and realised that Phillipa was surely the kind of pretty, successful, confident woman Red would be attracted to in the real world. The only places where Redmond and Lisa belonged together were the dance floor, and her dreams.

  Lisa could hardly bring herself to watch as Phillipa widened her eyes, obviously attracted to the thought of Redmond’s athletic past. The blonde presenter made a small, appreciative noise, encouraging Redmond to continue. “And I can honestly say … ” He paused a little, as if about to betray a revealing secret. “ … there’s very little to choose between them in terms of how tough and demanding they can be. We got unlucky today, but these things happen. I just hope there’s no lasting harm done.” His magnetic gaze transferred seamlessly from Phillipa to Lisa.

  Lisa forced what she hoped was a brave smile. “Just some bruising, I think, but I should probably get it checked out after the show, just to be sure.”

  “Of course,” Phillipa agreed glibly. “A dancer’s feet are so important, you can’t be too careful. And now, let’s hear how some of our other competitors got on with their first group dance.”

  As Redmond had just done, she smoothly shifted her intense focus from Redmond and Lisa on to the next nearest couple, which happened to be the Braithwaites. “David and Caroline,” she greeted them with a show of delight as if they were her new best friends, “how did you enjoy your quickstep?”