Sexy in the City

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

  She let her book fall to her lap and picked up a shoe brush instead. A vigorous attack on her suede soles was often the best antidote to rage and fear.

  “There you are!” Redmond sounded so relieved as he flung himself into the seat beside her, she could almost have believed he’d meant every word of his dance floor declaration of love. But then, if he cared that much about winning the competition and making a go of the studio, he would be relieved that his partner hadn’t run out on him. And talking of running out, where on earth had he been when she’d woken up that morning? The recollection of the empty bed and rumpled sheets fueled her indignation.

  “Me? What about you? I woke up this morning and you’d completely vanished. I looked for you everywhere!”

  She mentally kicked herself for the inaccuracy. Redmond wasn’t one to let such intellectual laziness pass unchallenged, and sure enough he gave a slow smug smile.

  “Not everywhere, or you’d have found me. I was on the phone.”

  “When are you ever not?” Lisa was stung. What were these conversations that so often proved more important to him than talking to her, dancing with her, or waking up with her?

  “Now,” Redmond pointed out calmly. Lisa had watched him deal calmly with irate shop assistants, dancers, airport baggage handlers. It had amused and impressed her, but now he turned the ability to her, she found it maddening. Was he saying that she, his fiancée of the past few weeks, was just like another annoyed staff member to be placated?

  Anger bubbled just under the surface of her calmness. She wanted to shout, scream, stamp her feet. For weeks the tension had been building, with the strangeness of life with Redmond, the uncertainty of their fragile new relationship, and the precarious position she found herself in after losing her job. Now it wanted to erupt but she knew that she had to hold it in check a little longer.

  “Shall we head off?” she asked, keeping her voice level, and standing immediately so that Redmond had no choice but to rise and follow her.

  “Aren’t we getting a cab with Elaine and Mark?” His use of the American term made him seem more distant than ever.

  “Yeah, but we’d better get going soon.” She checked the big brass clock above the reception desk. It was half an hour until they were officially due at the Tower for filming, but it was worth leaving some extra time for makeup and wardrobe. “Do you want to call their room and tell them we’re ready?”

  “A kiss for luck first?” Redmond suggested, pausing out of the way near the lifts, or as he would say, elevators. Lisa was feeling the sting of acting like his girlfriend even worse than she had at the start of the competition, but she knew she had to, at least for another day, so she obliged with a quick peck on the cheek.

  As they moved on towards the phones to call Elaine, she commented that she wasn’t familiar with that superstition.

  “I’m not surprised,” Redmond laughed. “I made it up. But you have to admit it’s a good one.”

  Lisa punched him on the arm.

  “Ow. You bully! I won’t be able to dance now!”

  “Rubbish.”

  “You’re a hard-hearted woman, Lisa Darby.”

  But Lisa knew that wasn’t true, and judging by his expression, so did he.

  She was saved from replying by Elaine’s appearance in the lobby, followed by Mark.

  “All ready?” Elaine asked.

  “Ready as we’ll ever be,” Lisa gave her trademark reply.

  “The taxi’s here,” Elaine pointed out, and they all hurried outside and piled in. It was only a short distance to the ballroom, but Lisa was grateful to be out of the cold.

  Once they arrived at the Tower Ballroom, Elaine and Mark were directed to seats in the gallery.

  “Break a leg!” Elaine called to Redmond and Lisa over her shoulder as they headed for the stairs.

  Lisa knew it was what you were meant to say, but she hated hearing it. She’d always thought how ironic it would be if, after that, someone actually fell and broke their leg. She didn’t see how wishing bad things on people brought them luck.

  Redmond, who knew how she felt about it, squeezed her hand as he led her through to the area reserved for performers and crew.

  This was the worst part of any competition. Dancing she could handle. No matter what the pressure, she could always enjoy the experience. But waiting was horrible, and more so when so much depended on the outcome. This was their big chance, and Redmond looked infuriatingly calm. How did he do that?

  Looking sideways at his expressionless face, she wondered if he was as calm as he looked. How would she know? Redmond gave nothing away unless he chose to. It was a trait she found fascinating, enviable, and infuriating.

  “Aren’t you nervous?” Lisa asked.

  “What’s the point? It doesn’t make you perform any better.”

  “Oh!” Lisa was even more aggravated. Real nerves weren’t something you could turn on and off at will, to help your performance. They just happened, and there was nothing you could do about them.

  She was about to argue but then bit her tongue, realising that her irritation was at least partly caused by her nervousness. She could argue about it later, if she still cared. For now, she decided she’d better go and get ready, and then sit quietly and try, if not to relax, at least to concentrate on her performance.

  On the way in, she’d seen a few familiar faces from the audience: ex-students of Elaine and Mark’s, teachers and dancers she recognised from the circuit, as well as a few minor celebrities. The audience here was much bigger than the studio audience, and it was going to be daunting to see all those faces watching, and still more so to think of the thousands more people watching at home.

  With one part of her mind worrying about the huge scale of the show, and another about what would happen with Redmond once the show finished, she hardly noticed the costume and makeup preparations. Even Tiffany was quiet, presumably now uncertain whether they would be one of the two couples going head to head today. Strangely, Lisa hadn’t thought much during the week about the possibility of being knocked out at this stage, but it hit her now as Phillipa summoned each of the couples in turn onto the dance floor to be presented to the crowds.

  As she walked out onto the dance floor, she felt as if she was stepping towards the edge of a precipice. She clung tightly to Redmond’s hand as they walked on, bowed to the audience on three sides and the judges on the fourth, as protocol demanded, and then walked back to their seats to sit through the reminder of last week’s dances, and the judges’ opinions.

  Finally the moment came. One couple wouldn’t be dancing in the final. “And the couple who will be leaving at this stage of the competition … ” A long pause. “ … is … ” An even longer pause. “ … Xander and Kasia.”

  Redmond and Lisa stared at each other. Lisa only realised now that she’d assumed Harry and Tiffany would be the ones leaving. She wondered if Redmond had thought the same. In one way, this result was better for them. Normally Xander and Kasia were the more polished dancers, so Harry and Tiffany were less of a threat. On the other hand, Harry and Tiffany were more likely to fight dirty. Lisa remembered the first quickstep and shivered. She’d hate it if something like that happened today.

  “For this final round,” Phillipa went on, “the couples will be dancing individually, so once you’ve said your goodbyes, would Tiffany and Harry please take to the floor?”

  Lisa’s heart was thumping as she wished Xander and Kasia well and then returned to her seat to watch their rivals perform. They’d chosen a very traditional tune, and their routine was, Lisa thought, uninspired. Then again, maybe that was wishful thinking. The audience seemed impressed, stamping and shouting as the music ended.

  Then there was no time to think anymore, as Lisa and Redmond took their positions and waited for the pounding beat of the modern tango the
y’d chosen to dance to.

  There was a long moment of silence, during which she and Redmond faced each other with a challenging gaze that was, at least on her side, as much an expression of her real feelings as a part of the dance. Then the music began: a familiar melody dancing over a powerful throbbing beat. The words spoke to Lisa, dragging her anger, hurt and fear to the surface, so that as she approached Redmond and turned away, drew him to her only to be repulsed in her turn, her true feelings showed themselves in her gestures and expressions. She begged, pleaded, yearned, and then finally turned away, showing in every haughty line how she rejected him.

  Now it was his turn to plead, with tender, eloquent gestures, until finally their fingertips touched and then, in a moment, she was in his arms, whirling and floating as lightly as a bird fluttering among the clouds. It felt perfect, and for a moment she forgot all the worries and concerns and frustrations that had been darkening her mind. In Redmond’s arms, she was light and carefree and alive, spinning and dipping and loving every moment. As the music faded, they drifted apart again, and when the final beat sounded, Redmond threw himself to his knees, his eyes fixed yearningly on hers, and then as the crowd applauded, the world flooded in again.

  They held the pose for long enough to allow the applause and shouting to die down a little, and then Redmond took her arm and walked her back towards her seat.

  “Well, if that doesn’t do it, nothing will,” Redmond murmured in her ear, bringing her back to reality with a bump. Of course. It wasn’t about real feelings. It was just about winning. After all the thinking she’d done on that subject in the garden, how had she let herself forget that, even for an instant? She’d danced her heart out, but Redmond had just been going through the motions. She mustn’t ever forget what an extraordinary actor he was, as well as a dancer. She mustn’t ever believe it was genuine. The hurt when she came back to reality was just too much.

  She nodded slowly, trying to readjust her thinking, to make herself react as coolly as he did, not to thrill at the warmth of his hand laid over hers as they walked back to their seats.

  Well, that was it. Now there was nothing to do but wait for the results.

  The judges were talking amongst themselves, but their microphones were turned off so that the crowd and dancers had no idea of their deliberations. Redmond had kept hold of Lisa’s hand and he absently played with it, stroking her fingers and caressing the sensitive skin of her palm. She willed herself not to react, either by snatching her hand away, or drawing his hand to her lips. Do nothing. It’s the safest way. Soon it will all be over and you can walk up to the podium to claim the cheque, celebrating with a kiss, or cry against Redmond’s shoulder. Keep up appearances for the last time. Then you’ll be free to go your way, sadder and wiser. He’ll be back off to America — and there was never even a ring to return. Although maybe she’d have kept it: a small souvenir to remind her of the few brief days when she’d thought she was loved.

  “And now,” Phillipa said, and an eager hush settled over the room. She deliberately kept the audience hanging on, waiting as she reminded them of the process of the competition, how the finalists had been selected, the dances they’d had to do, their different backgrounds and styles. Redmond looked calm but his hand in Lisa’s had been still and tense since the presenter’s speech began.

  On the big screen, the compere was talking through the highlights of the filming, and then there it was: Redmond kneeling, speaking softly, and apparently sincerely as he asked for Lisa’s hand in marriage. She watched numbly as the huge, wide-eyed Lisa on the screen nodded her mute acceptance, and the camera panned back to Redmond’s face on which she read now a look more of relief than joy. Suddenly tears filled her eyes and one trickled down her nose and dripped onto her hand. On screen the images moved on, but Lisa couldn’t let go of the image of Redmond’s expression, telling her that all her fears were grounded, that his proposal was the cynical ploy she’d dreaded it might be.

  She wrenched her hand from his and jumped to her feet, knowing that, no matter what was expected from her, she couldn’t stay in the room with him another moment.

  Redmond stood to follow her, and she forced out an excuse to keep him there.

  “I don’t feel great,” she said shakily, and truthfully, putting her hands to her stomach to give the impression of sickness. “Probably just nerves. I’m nipping to the ladies. Back in a second.”

  “The results … ” Redmond said, baffled, displaying yet again how little he was truly concerned for her. He didn’t seem to care about her supposed illness; he just wanted her present to lend credence to their coupledom as the results were announced.

  “Sod the results,” Lisa said viciously, turning sharply with a dancer’s grace and pushing through the crowd, out into the hallway.

  She bolted down the corridor, her suede soled shoes slipping on the smooth tiles, and took refuge in the toilets, leaning her head against the cool plastic of the cubicle as hot tears trickled down her cheeks.

  After a while, she knew she had to go somewhere else. But she couldn’t face going back inside yet, and sooner or later someone would come looking for her here. Back out in the corridor, she spotted a fire escape door leading out onto the pavement and took it. Sitting on the steps outside, she rested her head in her hands and listened to the distant sounds of entertainment going on inside. Then a voice came from the next set of doors.

  “Lisa?”

  She looked up, and there was Red’s cousin with her boyfriend Robbie, who she remembered seeing in the photos pinned on the fridge of Rosie’s cottage. She hadn’t even known they’d come to watch. What must they have thought of her flight? She looked up tearfully, wondering how to explain herself, but Rosie didn’t ask, just said, “You must be freezing,” and tucked a jacket around her shoulders.

  It was made of thick soft fur in three shades of beige. One was so pale it was almost like a stripe of cream, floating on a layer of caramel, which in turn was layered with a rich dark coffee. When she huddled her arms around herself, her fingers sank into the soft pile and she expected to feel the lanolin slipping on her skin as she used to when she pulled sheep’s wool off the fences. Of course, there was no lanolin, and no smell of tanned hide. Rosie wouldn’t own anything which had once belonged to a dead animal, so the jacket, for all its convincing warmth and texture, smelled only of soap powder.

  If she thought hard, Lisa might even know which powder, because it had the same fresh-air field smell as Redmond’s T-shirts. The smell brought back the memory of huddling against Redmond a dozen times, at dancing competitions, at home, in his flat, and she wondered whether she believed herself when she said it would never happen again. Was this it? No more gritty salty fingers and greasy chips in the car park, no more rich, flavoursome stews from the Moroccan restaurant, no more gliding around the dance floor as if she was walking on air, her limbs moving in an easy flow with no conscious thought. No more. Could she bear it?

  A sob escaped and tears stung Lisa’s eyes.

  For a few moments she heard nothing over the heaving of her sobs, but then they subsided into slow, dry heaves and she became conscious again of Rosie’s presence.

  “You must think I’m crazy,” Lisa sniffed.

  “Not at all. I think it’s a very stressful time. And Redmond is a wonderful man but he’s not always easy to be with.”

  “You can say that again,” Lisa said, and it all began pouring out. Her doubts, Red’s distant manner, the mysterious phone calls … “I don’t know what to do,” she wailed, and the tears began again.

  “Lisa, it’s for Redmond to tell you the whole story, but I promise you, it’s nothing bad. He just wants to make things work out, and … I don’t know … I guess it’s the old guy hunter-gatherer thing. He just wants to stalk back into the cave with his haul and impress you, when maybe it would be better if he let you join in. But give him a chance.
He’s really trying, and I’ve never seen him care like this before. Whatever dumb things he does, he loves you. I’ve known him a long time, and I can see it.”

  Lisa sniffed again and wondered whether she dared let herself believe Rosie.

  “Now, come on inside,” Rosie continued, “and let’s find out what’s happened with the competition.”

  As they walked back into the lobby, Lisa handed back Rosie’s jacket.

  “Thanks,” she said weakly, hoping Rosie knew she didn’t just mean for the use of the jacket.

  A familiar voice called, “Lisa? Lisa? What’s the matter? Are you OK?” Red hurried down the stairs and crossed the lobby to where she and Rosie were standing. Rosie melted away and she was left looking up at Red from tear-filled eyes.

  Part of her thought cynically, The show, that’s what it’s about. Come over here and stand beside me, so we can face the world as a smiling, lying couple. Then we can win and get your heart’s desire: success. But you’ve been taunting me with the promise of my heart’s desire, and I see how much you really love me — when I’m ill and unhappy, all you can say is “the results.”

  The angry thoughts brought more hot tears and she pressed her knuckles into her eyes to slow the flood. The pain brought her focus and reluctantly she realised that, no matter how much she wanted to get away from Redmond, she needed to be in the hall for the prizegiving for Elaine and Mark’s sake. If there was a chance of saving the studio, she couldn’t be selfish enough to jeopardise it because of her personal pain. Maybe if they kept it open they’d be able to find a space for her as a full-time teacher, even. That would be a big help with the job situation. And maybe there was a possibility, so slight a possiblity that she could hardly even think about it, that she and Redmond would work things out once the pressure of the competition was over.