Lovers' Dance

by Carr, K

  “Breathe, sweet cheeks. Come on, Madi, breathe. I’m here with you.”

  After ten minutes of going through my breathing exercises, I felt brave enough to open my eyes. When I did, it was to see the familiar surroundings of our office. Dante peered at me, worry etched on his face as he cupped my face in his hands.

  “What—what the hell is going on?” I cried, shaking like a leaf. “Were those reporters? I don’t understand. How do they know about me and Matt?”

  Dante’s gaze travelled over my face, clinically assessing my state. “It’s been in the news since Wednesday. I tried calling you dozens of times, but your cell was off. What the hell have you been getting up to? Talk to me, Madi. Is it true? I mean, I saw pictures—”

  “What?” I yelled, feeling my heart picking up tempo. “Pictures? Oh shit. How is this happening?”

  Dante shook me by the shoulders. “Is it true? Are you hooking up with some old, white dude? Some rich, white man?”

  I blinked hard. Swallowed hard. Sweated hard. “He’s thirty-seven, that’s not old.”

  Dante’s hands fell to his sides as he regarded me with something I wanted to call disbelief; it looked more like revulsion.

  “You got a rich, sugar daddy? Do you know what they’re saying about you? Have you seen what’s on the Internet?”

  “What?” I whispered, stomach falling to the floor. “What are they saying, Dante? This isn’t supposed to be happening.” On shaky legs I hurried over to the desk we shared. The computer was on, it was always on. I sank into the seat, unable to comprehend what was going on. How on earth had this happened?

  “Madi, the phones haven’t stopped ringing. Reporters have been out front since Wednesday afternoon. We’ve had to cancel classes—”

  “What?” My attention diverted from the computer screen to Dante’s serious face.

  “I had to, sweet cheeks. A lot of parents have been asking questions—”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because they’ve seen pictures of you wearing next to nothing with a half-naked white man on a boat,” he said, frigid, artic. Dante was pissed. I didn’t blame him. This would impact our bottom line. Fuck. Would we lose business because of this?

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Dante asked in a hurt voice. “We’ve been friends almost twenty years and you kept this from me. Why?”

  My chest was tight as I peered into his soulful brown eyes. “I don’t know,” I whispered in a small voice. “I’m sorry, D. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think anyone would find out.”

  Dante folded his arms, shaking his head slowly. “Just explain to me how you managed to get yourself involved with this guy. Do you know anything about him? Are you on fucking drugs? I—” He exhaled loudly, then took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t understand, and I need you to explain it to me. The things they’re saying about you, your mom—”

  “What?” I jumped off the seat, banging my knee underneath the desk. “My mother? What on earth are they saying?”

  Dante came over to the desk, planting his strong hands on my shoulders and shoved me back down in the seat. He leaned over and clicked a few keys. His aftershave wafted up my nose. Dante always smelt nice, like the forest, fresh, yet earthy, untamed. It was a scent I had grown used to over the years. It reminded me of home. He was my home away from home.

  “Read that, Madi.”

  I grimaced at the picture of me standing in the circle of Matt’s arms on his boat. How the hell had these pictures been taken? Who had taken them? Shaking my head, I ignored the pictures and read the article. There was a link to another webpage. I read that one and four others. Each article had comments posted. After reading the comments—people were such racist bastards—I ended up huddled under our desk, crouched in the corner like an injured creature, rocking back and forth like a terrified child. There were pictures of the crash. The one I survived, the one that had taken my world away. On one website, they had shown old footage of the crash site. That was the final push that led to me cowering under the table.

  “Madi,” Dante coaxed on his knees, with a hand outstretched. “You’re not a kid anymore. Come out from under there.”

  I shook my head and squeezed myself in further. This was a bad dream. I would wake up in my bed and breathe a sigh of relief any second. This was all a bad dream.

  <><><>

  “Get in,” Matt said impatiently to his friend clutching a briefcase. Before Nathan had a chance to close the door, Matt pulled away from the station. He had tried calling the number for Madi’s studio but it was constantly engaged.

  “Have you seen the articles?” Nathan asked in a harassed voice as he buckled up.

  “No,” Matt gritted out. “I left Madi’s place right after talking to you.”

  “You were at her place? I thought you were holed up at your house. For God’s sake, Matt.”

  Matt sent him a sidelong glare. “Are you here to help or do I have to boot your arse to the kerb?”

  Nathan sighed, rubbing his nose bridge as if trying to ward off a headache. “I am here to help. How far is it?”

  “Ten minutes, depending on traffic. Have you finished the statement? I want to read it. Bollocks.” Matt slammed his hand against the steering wheel in frustration as the lights changed against them. “I hope the press isn’t there.”

  Nathan snorted and Matt punched the steering wheel. The whole situation was a mess and all he could think about was how she would react to being thrust unceremoniously into the public limelight.

  “How incriminating are the photos? They didn’t get any of us at my house in Venice, did they?” Matt asked, fingers tightening in fury. The first night in Venice, he had made love to her on the balcony of his room. God. He would kill someone if images like that appeared in the gossip sheets.

  “Not of the house,” Nathan replied in a distracted voice, the briefcase open on his lap as he scanned the hastily written paper inside it. “Some of you two acting amorous on your boat. A few when you were shopping in Milan. The captions for those images were not flattering to Madison. They implied she was a gold-digger.” Nathan’s head snapped up and he glanced at Matt’s frowning countenance. “Matt, they got some old footage. I don’t know how, but there’s footage of the car crash she was in. And, of course, you know about her mother’s—ahem—youthful carefreeness. It was in that file I gave you.”

  “Did they get the same photos you had?” Matt asked.

  “Yes, and I’m honestly surprised they got their hands on them so fast. Don’t worry, Matt,” Nathan added in a show of support. “I’ll find out which bastard is behind this. I popped around to my parents’ house last night. Dad’s more than willing to use his media clout to find out who broke the story and where their sources are.”

  “Can your father not apply pressure to stop—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. This is freedom of the bloody press and only the high court can issue a gag order. Wait, aren’t your parents close friends with that judge? Damn it, I can never remember his name.”

  “Michaels.” Matt supplied the answer. Mention of his parents added another worry to the plate. “How did my parents react to the latest gossip on the good old Bradley name? I haven’t listened to the voicemails on my mobile, and there were many.”

  Nathan cleared his throat, then closed his briefcase sharply. “Not well, but you’re a grown man. What the fuck can they do? Disown you? Split your inheritance between your elder siblings? Sack you from the boards you preside over? Openly ostracize you amongst our circle of friends?”

  Matt frowned at his friend before giving the road his sole attention. “Cheers, mate.” His fake camaraderie made Nathan chuckle. “Nothing like having my oldest friend list the manner in which my family will unjustly penalize me simply for being with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

  Nathan’s chuckle broke off with a harsh cough. “If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you were smitten with this girl.”

  “She’s a wom
an, not a girl.” Matt’s tartness wasn’t unnoticed by his friend, who made no effort to hide the growing alarm on his face. Matt smiled to himself as he muttered, “My woman.”

  “Beg pardon?” Nathan asked, leaning forward in his seat.

  “Nothing.” Matt turned down the road and the sight that met his eyes caused a sound of extreme irritation to fall from his lips. “The wankers are there.”

  He could see people with cameras milling about and, like bloodhounds on the scent of prospective kill, they immediately noticed his car driving up towards the gates. Matt ignored the bursts of camera lights as he drove by. He ignored the shouted questions outside the vehicle. Spotting her car, he pulled up next to it and parked. The building was immense. It looked like an old theatre which had been converted for other uses. Matt felt the stirrings of pride inside him. This was hers.

  “Ready?” Nathan asked as he peered at the small crowd converging on the car.

  “Yes.”

  They exited Matt’s car and were met with a surge of voices and flashes of cameras.

  “Mr Bradley, how long have you been in a relationship with Ms DuMont?”

  “No comment,” he muttered, head bent low as he muscled his way through the reporters.

  “Mr Bradley, is it true you are behind a planned takeover of Hydroworld? Isn’t that a conflict of interest? Or are you intending to suppress their discoveries in order to maintain the grip your father’s company has on manipulating petrol prices?”

  Matt’s lips compressed into an angry line as Nathan pushed past a couple of men and said, “No comment.”

  “Is she good in bed, Matt?” someone had the cheek to yell, and the sound of masculine chuckles followed.

  Matt stopped, hands curling into fists. Nathan grabbed his arm and propelled him forward. The door was a few yards away. Matt was seething. They were using the revelation of his relationship with Madi as an excuse to question him about his family’s business. More questions were lobbed at him as they neared the door that suddenly swung open. A casually dressed, red-haired woman strode out, gesticulating widely.

  “If you people don’t leave these premises, the police will be called. That’s your final warning.”

  Matt and Nathan moved towards her. She spun sideways, ready to verbally attack them, then paused. Her eyes widened as she stared at Matt.

  “You’re Matthew Bradley,” she whispered.

  “Yes, I am,” he replied, taking her arm and heading for the door with her in tow. “I need to see Madi.”

  She kept staring at him, seemingly dazed, while Nathan yanked the door open and ushered them through.

  “Bloody hell, Matt.” Nathan peered out the glass door at the reporters excitedly hovering around and pulling out their mobiles. “There’ll be more vultures here within the hour.”

  Matt had one thing on his mind. He let go of the woman’s arm and held her gaze as he enunciated in crisp, clear words, “Where is Madison?”

  She blinked a few times, then broke from her stupor. “I’m Gloria, the receptionist. Please have a seat and I’ll get her for you.” Gloria gestured to the chairs before turning on her heels and running down the corridor. Matt stifled the urge to race after her and, once he’d seen which door she knocked on before entering, he began to pace the nicely decorated reception area. There were pictures of ballerinas in different poses on the cream walls, several potted plants and the receptionist’s desk was covered with pamphlets.

  Nathan took a seat and glanced around the open space. “Nicely decorated. I wonder how old this building is.”

  Matt rubbed his lower jaw to hide his scowl as he paced. He didn’t care about the building. He needed to see his poppet and, if that woman didn’t return with Madi in the next minute, he would go find her himself.

  “Have a seat,” Nathan said to his back. “I’m sure she’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  Matt continued to wear a hole in the green carpet and glared in the direction of the corridor. Where was she?

  Two minutes later the door down the corridor opened and Gloria walked out, a strained smile on her face. Matt’s eyes narrowed as he saw the person following her. They hurried towards them. On seeing their approach, Nathan stood up and made his way to Matt’s side.

  “Matthew Bradley.” He held his hand out to the black man he knew Madi had a crush on.

  “Dante Palmer.” Dante shook his hand briefly while eyeing him up.

  “Yes, I know who you are. Madi has told me a lot of good things about you.” Matt was a civilised man and this was her close friend. He would try to be friendly, even though his jealous possessiveness raised its head.

  Dante smirked, folding his arms and saying drily, “Really? ’Cos she’s never spoken about you.”

  An awkward pause developed as they exchanged tense looks. Nathan cleared his throat and stuck his hand out.

  “Nathan Walthamstow. Pleased to meet you.”

  Dante shook his hand, eyes never leaving Matt’s face. Matt knew in that instant they would never be friends.

  “Where’s Madi?” he asked brusquely.

  “Currently unavailable,” Dante replied. Gloria tittered under her breath, then walked to her desk.

  Matt narrowed his eyes, holding Dante’s challenging gaze, and pasted a polite smile on his face. “Is that so? I’m not leaving here until I speak to her, so I’d suggest you take me to her at once.”

  Dante’s mouth tightened into an unhappy line before he shrugged and turned back towards the corridor. “Follow me.”

  They trooped down the hallway, stopping at the door with a gold plaque that stated ‘Office’.

  Dante opened it up and stepped inside. Matt’s temper rose when he entered behind him and saw the cluttered room devoid of anyone else. He turned to question Dante about it but, before he could open his mouth, Dante walked over to the desk and bent down.

  “Sweet cheeks, you’ve got visitors.”

  “Go away, Dante.”

  Matt looked at Nathan who was wearing a bemused expression on his face, then stared at the desk in the middle of the room. She was under there?

  “Come out, Madi,” Dante said.

  “No. I’m staying under here until everything goes back to normal. Leave me alone.”

  Dante straightened up, shooting Matt a look as if to say, “See, she’s unavailable.”

  Matt strode over to the desk. “Poppet, come out from under there. I need to talk to you.”

  “Matt? Is that you?” Her voice quivered and Matt felt terrible. She was hiding under a desk. The fault lay on his doorstep. The media wouldn’t be outside if it wasn’t for who he was.

  “Who else, poppet? Come out so we can talk.”

  “What’s going on, Matt? How do people know—”

  “Madi,” he interrupted, “I am not having a discussion with a desk. Come out at once.”

  There was movement and a few seconds later her head popped above the desk. “Stop ordering me around. This is all your fault.” Her hair was a mass of springy wild curls and the brown depths of her eyes shone with unhappy anger. Matt wanted nothing more than to stroke her smooth dark skin, kiss that hurt away, but they weren’t alone. He needed to rectify that.

  “Can we talk somewhere private?” he asked, hoping Dante and Nathan would take the hint and leave.

  “Private?” she hissed as she stood up, looking cute in a blue hooded sweat shirt and matching slacks. “You want to talk in private?”

  Matt knew the upcoming conversation was not going to be pleasant. He wanted a chance to explain what steps needed to be taken to minimize the media storm now brewing.

  “Yes,” he replied coolly, while giving her a confident smile. Maintaining a calm and collected head in the face of chaos was a trait that had been inbred in him since he could talk.

  <><><>

  I stared at Matt for a second, that arrogant smile on his face as he stood there casually as if my world wasn’t being torn apart.

  “Nothing is private. There
are reporters outside my place of business, asking personal questions about us. We’ve had to cancel classes. Is this a joke to you?” My voice was shrill and Matt gave me his ‘I’m older and smarter than you look’. It pissed me off.

  “Of course not.”

  “Have you seen what they have been writing about us? About me?” I fumed. He was acting as if this was nothing. To him it might be nothing; he was used to being in the public eye, but I wasn’t. I clacked my fingers over the keyboard, bringing up the last article I’d read and scrolling down to the comments section.

  “Madi,” he started. My glare cut him off.

  “That Bradley man should be ashamed of himself. Bestiality is illegal. Lol.” I read it out loud.

  Matt’s face lost all its colour. Nathan looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. Dante shook his head in disgust. He understood.

  “Don’t y’all got white sheets in England? Lol.” My hands were starting to shake as I verbalized the foulness posted on the site.

  “She’s a hoe, a gold-digging hoe. That man should know better.”

  “Black women are cumsluts for white men. Betcha he’s into role play. Think he has a whip? LMAO.”

  “I’d fuck her, too. Have you seen that ass?”

  “Wonder how much he’s paying her?”

  “How can a rich, good-looking white man sleep with a black woman? Easy. Turn off the lights. Pussy feels the same in the dark. Wait. Make sure she shaved. ROTFL.”

  Matt reached out for me, and I jerked away. It was vile, and it made me sick.

  “Why are you people posting these comments? Wealthy, white men always make charitable donations to minorities, and I’m sure he’s donating a lot of charity in her ass. Wink, wink.”

  “She looks like her crack-whore mum, both slags. Ghetto yank bitch need to leave our white men alone. Even their own kind don’t want them. Why the hell is she over here? She isn’t English. Go back to Africa, skank.”

  “You can’t blame her, niggas always wanting something from white people. She wants his money and uses her ass to get it.”