by Kayla Perrin
“Your shoulders were moving.”
Vivian’s hips started moving, but so did her shoulders, and he saw the magic in her moves.
“Damn,” he said, holding the word so long it sounded like a song. “Now Cabbage Patch,” he encouraged her.
They were dancing when they spotted the shocked faces of Ashton and Kerri at the door. They stopped instantly, embarrassed.
“Can you gouge my eyes out, Ashton?” Kerri asked.
Ashton felt around on top of Kerri’s head. “I’ve already gone blind. Help me to my office.”
The door closed once again, he and Vivian looked at one another.
Jay cut off the music while she straightened her already straight dress. “So can you help me?”
“After what I just saw, we’re going to have to practice a lot. You can’t dance—at all.”
“What was I just doing?”
“Having a seizure.”
Jay sat his out-of-breath self in his chair and reached in the mini-refrigerator behind the desk for a bottled water. He handed Vivian one and got another for himself.
“When was the last time you went to the gym?”
His thoughts ticked back to the four broken dates for racquetball over the past two weeks, and he reflected on the reasons why. He’d been working. “It’s been about a month.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“In a month.”
Her hands flew to her temples. “You expect me to take nondancers and turn them into dancers overnight?”
“Yes.”
“How many people?”
“Three couples.”
Her mouth fell open. “Any kids? I can’t teach kids and adults, too. Not at this late date.”
Jay was shaking his head. “No kids. Not even in the wedding.”
“What about the bride and groom? What kind of time can they commit to the rehearsal? We need to practice at least eight to ten times.”
“It’s going to be a surprise for them.”
“A surprise.” A sardonic laugh fell out of Vivian, and she scratched her brow. He wondered if that was her thing to do when she was a little uncomfortable. “Does the happy couple like surprises?”
Jay waited until she looked at him. Something told him she hadn’t had too many good surprises in her life. “They love surprises. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t sure it would be okay. Troy and I have been best friends since the eleventh grade, and he’s marrying his childhood sweetheart.”
“Lovely.”
“Okay, then. Do we have a deal?” Excited, he got to his feet and came around his desk.
“No. We haven’t discussed my rates, which are $125 an hour. Twice a week for eight-or-so weeks and that could get expensive.”
He sat on the corner of his desk. Eyeing Vivi, he chugged his water. “Troy did me a favor a long time ago. I think I can give him a knockout wedding dance. And a Crock-Pot.”
“Okay then. We have a deal. If we’re going to keep things a secret, why don’t you have everyone come to my studio? It’s on Memorial Drive near Rockbridge. North side of the street. Can’t miss it. Big sign that says Dance Studio.”
“In the hood?” he asked her.
Vivian only smiled. “Hey, rent is affordable. Don’t worry. I’ve never been jumped.”
She shouldered the huge dance bag she had placed on the floor when she had first come in and moved her elegant body in front of his. Her perfume lingered. “First practice is tomorrow at 7:00 p.m. I don’t do late, so everyone must be on time, and they come prepared to dance. That means no loose jewelry, but comfortable clothing and dance shoes. If they don’t prepurchase them, they can get them at the studio. We can’t mess up the floor, or I lose my deposit.”
“Got it. Anything specific for me?”
She smiled at him. “Go to the gym tonight. And in the morning. See you tomorrow evening.”
Chapter 3
Vivian hadn’t known what to expect—of course, not handsome men dressed in dance tights and leg warmers. But she had at least expected professional athletes, so the entrance of these former athletes shocked her. One man looked positively ready to give birth. He introduced himself as Harv. He was thick from his neck to his very full ankles. The other man had on sweats and an iPod plugged in his ears.
He walked up, shaking strawberry-blond hair from his eyes. He extended his hand. “Elliott.”
Vivian met his firm grip. “Vivian. Nice to meet you. Any dance experience?”
“Ten years. Don’t tell these guys, but my mother was a dance teacher. I’ve forgotten just about everything but how to stretch. Go easy on me.” His smile was easily seductive. “Where are the ladies? I know my wife, Idalia, will be here on time. You can set a clock by her.”
Vivian shrugged. “Not sure, but we’ll get started in two minutes even if they’re not here. I’ll be right back.”
Vivian took a deep breath when a woman walked in with spiked heels on, crossing the floor.
“Miss, please remove your shoes. It messes up the floor.”
“I’m not dancing barefoot.” The prima donna kept walking.
Vivian stepped in front of her. This woman was the typical snobby beautiful woman. She was tall, had gorgeous wavy brown hair and was born of mixed parentage. She’d probably danced up until high school, and Vivian was sure she’d try her on a few things.
What she didn’t know was that Vivian had run into women like her all her life, and making this woman stay in her lane wasn’t a problem.
“Take off your shoes or pay to have the floor resurfaced. The last time it was six thousand dollars.”
“Shoes off,” the woman said, peeling the stilettos from her feet. She walked on her toes to Elliott. “Where’s my man, Jay?” She cut her very superior eyes at Vivian.
She thought that mattered to Vivian and didn’t know how much it didn’t. Doing the job and getting paid did.
“Do I look like your personal assistant?” Elliot looked bored. “Nobody is going for your crap, Naderia. Just because you talked your way into being the maid of honor doesn’t mean everybody is up for your childish bull. Beth might baby you, but I don’t have time for your mess.”
“Don’t bring it over here, either,” Harv commented from the floor as he tried to touch his toes.
“Nobody asked you, Harvey,” she snapped. “It’s only fair for me to be the maid of honor, and since Destinee favors loyalty, and I’ve been her friend the longest, it’s only natural that she selected me. And, she wants everyone in her wedding to be in relationships. So her best friend and Troy’s best friend are the perfect match,” she practically sang. “Whether we are or not is not her concern. Destinee is delicate because she just lost her mother, and we’re not going to do anything to upset her. We’ll pretend until the wedding is over, and by then, Jay will want me back anyway.”
“You’re stupid,” Elliott said under his breath.
“Keep your opinion to yourself. Jay and I have hit a rough patch, but that’s not Destinee’s concern. We’re all doing this for her. Because we care about her. Once I put little Ms. Over Here in check, my day will be perfect.”
“You could be nicer. That’s all I’m saying,” Harv said, watching the manipulative woman.
“So could she. She is getting paid.”
Hurrying back from the bathroom, Vivian watched Naderia interact with the men. They all seemed to dislike her. All she could say was that Jay had expensive and high-maintenance taste. Figures. Vivian walked to the corner of the room, rearranged the perfectly arranged music and tried to quell her temper. Naderia was just one snotty woman, but she could be handled. Dancing was hard work. But there was nothing to say; they would need to deal with each other.
Besides, as a dancer, Vivian had dealt with some of th
e worst bun-headed bitches in the business. Naderia would be in a corner chewing Xanax and calling her therapist when Vivian got finished with her. Vivian popped her neck, releasing some tension.
The rest of the women filed in, dance shoes in their hands, Jay behind them.
“How’s everybody?” he asked, his eyes bright, a smile on his face. Vivian stayed where she was and allowed the group a chance to get their greetings out of the way.
She heard the men giving him the rundown, but she was determined to have a good class.
He was heading toward her, but she was having none of his feel-good nonsense. Naderia was his woman. She was leaving that whole mess alone.
“Everyone face the mirrors.” She put on Michael Jackson’s “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” and two of the women grimaced.
“Not that old crap,” Naderia complained.
“Shoulder shrugs,” Vivian called out, taking center floor and everyone fell in line, following along. “Step Ball Chain. Five, six, seven, eight,” she called, and started to the right, seeing who could keep up and who needed a little more time. “Jump, one, two, three! Sway,” she ordered and the group followed. “Ladies, arms out. Hip action. Guys,” she said, getting them ready, “jump on. Yee-hah!”
The music built and they started over. Soon Vivian was making calls, and they had the dance down pat. At the end of the song, which had played through twice, she assessed the group.
Most were sitting on the floor looking like they were ready to pass out. Elliott was still on his feet along with Jay, who was doing his best to keep Naderia from undressing him.
A woman, who she believed was Harv’s wife, Beth, was near Naderia shooting mean looks at Vivian.
“Good evening class, I’m Vivian, your dance instructor. I’ve been dancing all of my life and have danced professionally for ten years. I’ve danced on Broadway, and in two musical movie productions. I’m also licensed to teach dance. I’ve choreographed something I think is fun and will be a treat to see.”
“You didn’t say it was easy,” Harv said. He was lying flat on his back, dripping sweat and wheezing. “You’re a very talented woman. I didn’t think I could sweat like this anymore. We just learned a dance. Let’s do that one.”
Vivian made her way through the land mine of bodies on the floor and leaned over him.
“You’re right. Surprises are supposed to be a lot of fun. You can’t do the Warm Up dance for a wedding. Plus, that song is twenty years old. I don’t want people to think anything I do is crap. Anytime you get that feeling, I can raise my game. I just want you to be able to raise yours. Okay?”
“I didn’t say that,” Harv said. “I’ve had enough of taking on women for two lifetimes.” He patted his stomach and the class laughed.
“Come on,” Vivian encouraged him. “I don’t want to work with cold muscles. Everyone to the barre.”
She walked to her troubled child. “Naderia, there are jazz shoes on the shelf for thirty dollars. You have to have the proper attire to be on this floor, and you can’t be barefoot. You can use a credit card to pay for them. But you’ll need to go get them right now.”
Naderia stared her down until Jay clapped his hands. “I’m paying $125 an hour twice a week for this, Naderia. You got the email just like everybody else. If you didn’t buy the shoes beforehand, buy them now or go home.”
Vivian kept her shock at bay. That was a harsh way to talk to his girlfriend, especially in front of everyone, but Naderia took it like a real woman. She got her purse and bought the shoes without saying a word, rejoining the class when she was finished.
The no-nonsense clip in Jay’s voice had shaped everyone up. The women stopped whispering and Harv wasn’t lying on the floor anymore.
Apparently when Jay meant business, people listened.
Vivian wondered how his and Naderia’s relationship was at home, but she wasn’t going there. What they did past dance class was none of her business. This job was. It was going to pay her rent for the next two months and give her the chance to audition for Porgy and Bess in New York City.
“Let’s go, ladies,” Vivian encouraged, raising the energy in the room.
The rest of the women, Beth, Harv’s wife, and Idalia, Elliott’s wife, moved to the barre. For women in their mid-thirties, they didn’t move too badly. Only Beth worried Vivian. She was holding her leg.
“Your hamstring okay?”
“I didn’t know I had one. We’re getting familiar with one another.” Chuckles echoed in the room.
“I won’t work you too hard tonight.”
Beth shook her head vehemently. “Don’t you dare back off. This is the first exercise me and Harv have had since we got married. He’s pregnant this week because he can’t keep his big mouth shut about other people’s sizes. So now he’s learning an uncomfortable lesson by wearing a manufactured pregnancy belly.”
Vivian gave a conspiratorial nod. “Okay. Let’s learn what a plié is.”
After fifteen minutes of ballet warm-ups, Vivian was sure she’d covered the muscle groups needed so nobody would pull or strain anything.
“This is all well and good, but what’s this dance look like?” Naderia demanded, staggering to sit down although she’d been told sitting was forbidden.
“I’m glad you asked. Up! There’s no sitting.”
“Oh, my gawd! We ain’t on Broadway!” Naderia snapped.
Jay watched Naderia and rolled his finger, signaling Vivian to go on.
“The music will be a medley of hip-hop, some old-school for the mature folks, a touch of classical and R&B. Nothing too nasty. Nothing too funky.” Sensing a hesitant vibe she looked to Jay. “That’s what your email said.”
Four of the students looked at the others, and there were various shrugs. “I kind of agree with Naderia’s hesitation,” Beth said. “Well, let’s see it before we shoot it down.”
Vivian took a chair into the center of the floor. “The men will start on chairs, sitting backward like this.” She posed with her elbow pointed toward the floor, her chin on her fist, legs open. Then she jumped up, twirled the chair around and came out stomping. “This is the Atomic Dog dance.”
Then she slid to the right and acted as if she were taking her partner’s hands. She waltzed, and then executed two lifts that had the women gasping and the men smiling. She shimmied and Lambadaed, Cha-chaed and shook her bottom in a Beyoncé fashion until the dance was over.
Then she showed them again, to the music, and one last time with Jay as her partner, lifting her when she said up.
“The only thing I don’t know is the type of dresses you’ll be wearing.”
The women looked surprised, then Idalia chimed in, “Naderia is the maid of honor.”
“It’s only right,” Naderia remarked. “Jay and I are together.”
“How does everyone feel about the dance?” Vivian asked, catching her breath.
This was the second time she’d choreographed for novices and she wasn’t sure accepting hadn’t been a mistake. There were too many personalities in this room, and if the dance didn’t come out right and it got out onto the internet, that could be bad for her.
“I like it.” Idalia swung her arms, repeating some of the movements. Her husband, Elliott, who sat on the chair, hopped up, doing the Stomp dance. The couple clasped at the right time and began to waltz. Their synchronicity seemed to make Naderia jealous.
“I like this part,” Elliott commented, oblivious to the woman’s scorn.
“I like everything but the lifts. I hate being picked up, but my dress is going to be long, so maybe I can get away with doing a small one.” Beth crossed her arms, appearing angry.
“You don’t have to do a high lift. You could bend your knees and rise on your toes and make it look like a lift.” Vivian showed Beth what she was talk
ing about but was stopped by Harv.
He’d been reclining on the floor and sat up. Struggling, Elliott and Jay helped him to his feet. “We’re doing the lifts. I’ve been a pregnant man for four days because I shot my mouth off at the wrong time to the wrong person. We all get a little embarrassed, but we deal with it.” He caressed his wife’s back. “We’ll walk later and get really serious about Weight Watchers. But as of right now, we’re doing the lifts.”
Beth cozied up to her man and kissed him.
Elliott, the best dancer out of all of them, and Idalia looked at one another and nodded once. “We’re in for whatever. I think we should add something soft at the end, then invite the bride and groom to join us.”
Vivian nodded enthusiastically. “Elliott, that’s a great idea. I can do something really sweet. I’ve got something in mind.” Vivi turned. “Jay? What do you think?”
Smoky green eyes with chocolate-colored flecks gazed back at her. His opinion counted more than anything. “Sounds fun. Let’s get started. I’ve got other things to do tonight.”
“I think Jay and I need to be out front a little more. We’re the best man and maid of honor,” Naderia repeated, draping her arm around Jay’s waist.
Vivian flicked her fingers in the air. “I choreographed a dance that doesn’t have any stars. If you want headliners, it’s going to cost you.”
“If you want something special, then you pay for it. I like the dance the way it is,” Jay told her. “Besides, it’s not about me and you. It’s about Troy and Destinee.”
“Yeah, but, this is our five minutes of fame, for all the expense and time it’s taken to be in this wedding. For the women especially.”
Idalia looked appalled and showed her frustration by walking away from the group. Elliott’s sarcastic laugh made Naderia suck her teeth.
“You look really good from my point of view,” Beth said, stroking Naderia’s ego.
“I do?” Her shoulder dipped, soaking up the compliment. She eyed herself in the large mirror before them.
“Yeah, you and Jay look better than me and Harv. Let’s try it again,” Beth suggested.