Lovers' Dance

by Carr, K

  She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Shaming my brother, God rest his soul. Did you think about that, Madison? Did you think about what he would say if he was alive? To see you carrying on like this? Isn’t it enough that they try to persecute us every which way they can? Why couldn’t you find a nice, stable, black man?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at my clasped hands. Dante tried again to defend me.

  “Auntie Cleo, maybe you’re overreacting—”

  “Am I done talking?” She fumed. “Don’t you get sassy with me, young man. You’ve been coming to my house since you were nine-years-old, and I can still smack sense into you.”

  Dante shut his mouth. Aunt Cleo was not someone to mess with. She was thousands of miles away, an ocean between us, yet I felt cowered. It boiled down to the way we were raised. You did not disrespect your elders, especially in black families. Do so at your own risk.

  “Don’t fool yourself into thinking white men are different over there, Madison. They’re just as bad. Filling your head with nonsense to sleep with you, that’s all they want. He sure as hell won’t marry you. A rich man like that is only out for one thing and you’re serving it up with no thought of the consequences. You might as well put chains on and call him massa—”

  “How dare you!” Matt exploded in a hard voice. My head snapped up at his outburst. Did I not tell him to stay quiet?

  “Who’s that?” Aunt Cleo asked uncertainly.

  I gave Matt a mean look before hastening to say, “No one, Aunt Cleo. It’s the TV. Look, can we please discuss this later? I’m at work—”

  “I’ve been calling you on your cell and the house phone since yesterday, but you were too busy living it up in Italy, like some mistress with that man. Wearing that skimpy piece of string, showing your ass for the whole world to see. Your uncle hasn’t stopped arguing with me, blaming me for your behaviour. Did you think about us before you decided to parade about with that man? Jamal and Jenny are embarrassed, seeing pictures of their cousin all over the Internet like that.” She let out a loud, weary sigh.

  “Aunt Cleo,” I tried to make my tone firm, “Think about your blood pressure. I don’t want you to worry about this. I’ll fix it.”

  “Fix it? The only way to fix this is to stay away from that man, you hear? Stay away from him. Dante?”

  “Yes, Aunt Cleo,” Dante answered.

  “I want you to put my niece on a plane and send her home—”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, flustered at where the conversation was going. Damn it. I was twenty-six years old, even if sometimes I didn’t act it.

  “No, Madison. You come back home. I’m going to take you to church, and don’t tell me you’ve been going to service over there because I know you haven’t.”

  “I can’t.” I looked beseechingly at Dante. He held his hands up in defeat.

  “If you don’t come here, I’ll come over there and sort you out. I’m sure Dante’s mom will enjoy a trip to England. It’s obvious you two don’t know how to act right.”

  “But I didn’t do anything,” Dante argued. I staggered over to where Dante stood. This was a farce. My life was turning into a farce.

  “You’re just as responsible. Educated, strong, black man like you letting her get involved with someone like that. Why you haven’t married her yet is beyond me. You’re twenty-eight. Time to settle down and have babies, Dante.”

  Oh God. I avoided Matt’s gaze like my life depended on it.

  “We have to go Aunt Cleo,” I muttered. “I’ll call you later.”

  “You better call, or—”

  “Love you,” I said in an attempt to block another one of her verbal assaults.

  “Humph. I love you too, sweetie. Stay away from that man.”

  “Bye, Aunt Cleo,” Dante and I said in unison before I hung up.

  The office descended into a charged silence, until Nathan coughed lightly and said, “We should discuss this statement before we speak to the press.”

  Matt folded his arms, piercing grey eyes latched on my face. “Your Aunt Cleo’s a racist.”

  “No, she’s not,” I replied defensively.

  Matt scoffed.

  Dante glared at him and Nathan.

  I folded my arms, like Matt. He better not start this. No one badmouthed my family. He didn’t know anything about them. Oh, wait, the sneaky giant had run a background check on me.

  “I fail to understand how you can let her speak to you like that. How can you let anyone speak to you in such a manner? The things she said were offensive. And not once during that call did you defend me.”

  I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t deal with this anymore. Defend him? Was he serious? My aunt was expressing her views. She was entitled to do so, and a little part of me believed she was right. I couldn’t help it. I’d grown up dealing with the unfair stereotypes applied to black people. Of course it coloured my view on society. Matt didn’t understand. He couldn’t.

  I walked around the desk and dropped to the floor.

  “You’re not going to hide again, are you?” Dante asked.

  “No. Getting my bag.” I straightened up and slung the bag over my shoulder. “Matt, there’s a group of reporters in front this building. Make them go away.” I headed for the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Matt called. “We need to discuss what just happened.”

  “I need to dance until my feet hurt. Dante, you coming?”

  With one last scowl at the two white men in our office, Dante sauntered out the door I held open. Matt and Nathan looked at each other while I tapped my foot impatiently, holding the door open.

  “What?” Matt growled.

  “I’m not leaving you two alone in here.”

  “Of all the cheek,” Matt muttered, striding purposely towards me. “Where do you expect us to go?”

  “Gloria will find somewhere for you,” I replied.

  “Madison.” Matt was in what I had dubbed his ‘I’m in charge here’ stance. It was the way he held himself, rigid and uncompromising. This was my workplace, my building, my life. There were reporters outside my sanctuary, all because I had swirled with the wrong white man.

  “Don’t ‘Madison’ me, Matthew. I’m furious with you. A background check? Do you know how that makes me feel?”

  He had the grace to look ashamed. At least that was something.

  “After you’ve gotten rid of the press outside,” I added, studiously avoiding his gaze, “I want you both to leave.”

  “No,” he said.

  I tightened my grip on my bag and raised my eyes to his. “This has been one of the worst mornings in my adult life and I need my space, Matt. Look, I’ll call you or something.”

  Matt jerked back in shock. “Are you dismissing me?”

  There it was. His arrogance shining through. Heaven forbid someone brushing off the great Matthew Bradley. Well, I wasn’t one of his employees. I was the black girl he was screwing and, right at this moment, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be that anymore. Everything was too complicated. Matt had been watching my face intently as those thoughts raced through my mind.

  “Nothing’s changed, poppet.” His haughtiness being replaced by something else that unnerved me. Did he really love me?

  “How do you do that?” I asked in frustration. “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”

  A smile curved his mouth and I shook my head.

  “Sweet cheeks, are you coming?” Dante was heading down the corridor to the main dance room. Matt scowled in his direction, then turned back to me.

  “I hope he’s referring to your face and not somewhere else, poppet.”

  I didn’t dare correct him. When we were in Venice, I had picked up on his jealous tendencies. He persisted in openly eyeballing any guy who checked me out. A few times he’d said something in Italian that made the guys hurry away. I told myself it was better not knowing.

  “I’ve got to go, Matt. I’ll call you.” With that I sc
ampered away, leaving him in the doorway of my office with a frown on his face.

  <><><>

  Matt watched her race down the corridor to where Dante waited, his face a sour picture as he saw Dante sling an arm over her shoulder and mutter something in her ear that had her pausing for a second before she pressed a quick peck on his cheek.

  Sweet cheeks. The bloody nerve of him. Matt suspected the nickname referred to her arse, and it pissed him off.

  “Matt, we need to go over this, mate.”

  Matt turned around to face Nathan. “Cheers for that.”

  “It’s no bother. You know I was born to do this sort of thing. I despise it, but I’m good at it.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that and you know it, Nathan. I’m referring to your cowardice by not admitting you were the one who ran the background check on Madi.”

  Nathan shrugged unrepentantly, then grinned at him. “I wasn’t going to risk her anger. I can still see her palm print on your face. Jesus, she’s a proper little firecracker, isn’t she? I’m still annoyed with you by the way. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing her?”

  “Because it’s no one’s business whom I choose to date.”

  Nathan huffed, insulted over his friend’s words. “This is me, Matt.”

  Matt sighed, rubbing a hand across his faintly throbbing cheek. “Because she’s sweet and fun—”

  “You called her your girlfriend,” Nathan pointed out dryly. “You’re thirty-seven years old, for crying out loud. Humph. Men like us don’t have girlfriends. We have wives and fiancées, or a significant other.”

  “She’s mine, and I’m not discussing this anymore. Let me have a look over that statement.” He held his hand out for the paper, about to walk back into the office when he heard Madi yell down the corridor.

  “Get out of my office, Matt.”

  Nathan chuckled to himself. “Feisty as hell. I have to say, she is the most intriguing of all your conquests.”

  Matt narrowed his eyes in anger at his closest friend. “Don’t speak about her like that. She’s not a conquest. She’s…look, I’m not discussing this. Let’s go back to reception and ask Gloria to find us somewhere to go over the statement. You’re right. You should talk to those vultures outside. If I go, I might end up punching someone.”

  They started back in the direction of the reception area, shoulder to shoulder with matched strides.

  “I’m assuming you haven’t spoken to your family?” Nathan drawled.

  “No.” Matt made no effort to hide the frustration he felt. “I have no intention of doing so. It’s none of their business.”

  “Your parents don’t seem to think so. William called me into his office yesterday, demanding an explanation as to why you were sunning yourself in Venice with—and this is verbatim by the way—an undesirable black woman, instead of being at your place in Surrey working out the takeover.”

  “He said that?” Matt asked emptily.

  Nathan nodded. “And a few more things, but going off your expression, I think it’s best if I refrained from repeating it.”

  “It doesn’t matter. This will blow over in a few days.”

  “Unrealistic expectation that,” Nathan warned. “You’re the elusive Matthew Bradley. She’s the black English-born American. I’m thinking it’ll be a few weeks before the media loses interest.”

  “They will,” Matt said. “Eventually.”

  “Right then, let’s go speak to the receptionist. An informal office environment, isn’t it? Yelling up and down the hallway isn’t professional.”

  “Nathan, you’re a snob. Get over yourself,” Matt hissed as the reception area came into view. He fixed a polite smile on his face and walked up to Gloria’s desk. She nervously patted her hair, straightening in her seat behind the desk as he asked if there was somewhere, besides the office, he could have privacy.

  Dante’s girlfriend exited a door set off the reception area. She paused when seeing Matt and Nathan there, then with a marked sway to her hips, waltzed over to the desk. Matt flashed her a neutral smile and put a bit of distance between them.

  “I can’t believe you’re going out with Madi,” she said.

  Gloria narrowed her eyes in dislike and got off her chair.

  Matt had no desire to be drawn into a conversation with this stranger about his relationship, so he widened his smile and averted his gaze. Plus, Madi didn’t seem to like this woman for whatever reason.

  “Mr Bradley, if you’ll follow me,” Gloria said, regarding him with awe.

  Matt and Nathan waited for her to walk past them and began to follow her back down the hallway. The Christine woman trailed behind them until Gloria noticed and barked, “Christine, can you watch the doors? I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “I don’t work here,” she replied nastily.

  Gloria jerked to a stop, spinning around to regard Christine with barely hidden revulsion between Matt and Nathan’s shoulders.

  “Why are you here anyway? Dante told you he’ll be in the studio for the rest of the day. You can’t hang around here. Don’t you have work?”

  Matt tried to contain his irritation at this holdup, and not so subtly cleared his throat. He had to remind himself this was not one of his corporate offices. They obviously ran things differently here.

  “I’m a model. We work irregular hours,” Christine spat from behind Matt’s back.

  Gloria smirked before saying, “We’re closed today, Christine. All classes have been cancelled, and you know when the others get here, they’ll be working on the choreography with Dante and Madi. Go home.”

  Matt and Nathan peered over their shoulders at Christine. She didn’t look happy. When she noticed their bland observation, her face reverted to a pleasant mask. Matt cleared his throat and Nathan grinned, knowing how impatient his friend was.

  “Tell Dante to call me.” Christine huffed, turning on her heels and stalking away.

  Matt couldn’t be certain, but he thought he heard Gloria mutter “witch” under her breath.

  “Sorry about that, Mr Bradley. You can use this room if you don’t mind waiting for me to bring you chairs.”

  The door she opened led onto a medium-sized room with mirrored walls and a barre running along the length of the room.

  “It’s one of the rooms we use for the younger kids,” she explained unnecessarily.

  “The rooms in the back of the building are larger and we have the auditorium section where the shows are held. It’s great working here. I’m not just the receptionist, I’m a dance instructor. I used to be in the corps, but I was in an accident last year and injured the bones in my leg, so no more stage for me.” Gloria smiled brightly at the two silent men. “Madi offered me the instructor position for toddlers and I thought, if I couldn’t perform anymore, at least I could teach. Madi’s great, her and Dante are amazing together. It’s amazing what they’re doing here, starting their own dance company. Not many people could do that. Sorry, I’m babbling. I’ll go get those chairs.”

  Her face was pink as she fled the room, leaving a grinning Matt and Nathan behind. Matt felt his interest growing. He knew about the dance company, thanks to Nathan’s background check, but hearing first-hand from someone who worked here was different. Madi spoke of her work, but not in intricate detail, and a large portion of their time together was spent on other activities which didn’t require the use of words. Matt wanted to learn more. He suspected Madi was shy when it came to discussing her career with him, had the niggling impression she thought he wouldn’t understand nor was he interested in knowing more. But he did, he wanted to know everything about his poppet.

  “You look like you’re thinking hard,” Nathan drawled.

  “Do I?” Matt hedged.

  “Yes, you do. Hopefully, this current media attention will die a quick death. If I were in your shoes, I’d be more worried about dealing with your family,” Nathan replied.

  Matt’s response had to wait as Gloria returned at that
moment with a folded chair under each arm.

  “Here you go. Would either of you like something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.” Matt smiled at the woman.

  “Let me know if you need anything. I’m right out front.”

  Nathan gave a polite incline of his head and she scurried away, casting curious glances over her shoulder as she left.

  They spent the next half an hour running through the brief statement, then Nathan went to speak to the press while Matt paced back and forth in the reception area.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink, Mr Bradley?” Gloria asked from behind the desk.

  The only drink Matt wanted was a strong whiskey, and he doubted they would have that on the premises. He declined her offer and resumed pacing.

  “Madi’s a nice person,” Gloria said, keeping her eyes on the screen in front of her. “And, I’ve, well, we’ve all seen the stuff on the net.”

  Matt stopped his pacing to observe her, his demeanour suddenly standoffish. Gloria stole a peek over the screen, then blurted out, “I know you’re this rich playboy and whatnot, but she’s lovely and I hope you’re not going to hurt her.”

  Matt felt a smidgen of annoyance at her forwardness, but assumed she did so out of loyalty to Madi. It was touching and wholly unnecessary.

  “I have no plans to do so,” Matt stated, a friendly smile on his face to take the edge out of his words.

  “Good.” Gloria beamed at him, then returned to her work.

  Matt’s attention went to the door as a group of three people came bustling through. They didn’t look like reporters, but one could never be sure.

  “Those tossers are still out front,” a slender man in sweats exclaimed while jostling his bag from one hand to the next. “Blocking the road like they own it. Where’s—” He stopped when he noticed Matt standing quietly to the side.

  His eyes widened in recognition, and he nudged the two women next to him.

  “Morning, all,” Gloria chirped, grinning at their faces. “Dante and Madi are in the back studio and you’re late.”

  “She’s in?” One of the women asked, gaze fixated on Matt.