Lovers' Dance (26 page)

“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.

“Yup. Hey, which one of you took the office phone?”

“Ask Liam,” they said in unison before walking off. Matt could hear their excited, low chatter as they moved away. He sighed softly, being out of his comfort zone and not liking it.

Nathan returned, a grim smile on his face as he walked through the doors.

Matt strode up to him. “Well? How did it go?”

“Reasonably well. A few probing questions, but I kept on script. Can we get out of here? It’s almost one and I’m needed at the office. You should come in, too.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slowly. “No. I’m staying. Take my car.” He pulled out the keys and handed them over to Nathan. “I’ll get a lift back with Madi.”

Nathan frowned as he took the car keys. “Matt, I think—” He stopped talking at the look on Matt’s face, sighing in resignation and nodding. “Fine. I’ll pop over to yours later. We need to talk.”

Matt had no intention of discussing his love life with anyone, but he nodded before saying his goodbyes.

“You can watch if you like, Mr Bradley. They’ll probably be in the fish bowl now,” Gloria piped up as Matt was about to take a seat. “There are chairs outside the room Madi’s in, and it’s better than sitting here with boring old me.”

Matt smiled in gratitude, perplexed over her fish bowl comment, and allowed Gloria to lead him to the back of the building. It was a large property. Matt wanted to wander around, but the chance to see Madi dance won out. Gloria stopped, explaining cheerfully, “It was Dante’s idea, this room. He said it would be nice for the students to be able to see how the professionals danced whenever they passed by.”

Matt stared through the clear glass that gave him full view of the room and spotted her immediately. She had changed into a black leotard and tights, one leg perched on the wooden
barre
as she stretched in front the mirrored wall. Gloria pointed to a group of chairs and fidgeted with her hair.

“If you need anything, come find me.”

Matt nodded, making his way over to the farthest chair and sat down. Gloria hesitated for a moment before finally flashing him a nervous smile and disappearing back down the corridor.

He watched as Madi and the three others who’d arrived when he was in reception joked amongst themselves. Dante clapped his hands and they sobered up as they took their positions.

They began to dance. Their movements fluid and graceful as they glided and leaped across the space. Matt had been to ballet productions at the Royal Opera House, and he knew the dancers he watched were skilled. Trying not to be biased, he compared Madi’s dancing with the others, deciding after watching her complete a complicated round of steps which ended with her being lifted into the air above Dante’s head, that she was absolutely fantastic. He’d never witnessed anything that beautiful. The sound of voices coming closer broke his fascinated observance of his woman. A mixed group of five jovial people sauntered past. They didn’t notice Matt sitting at the back and hurried into the room, leaving the glass door partially open.

“Liam,” Madi groused to a tall blonde. “Stop moving the office phone. No one knows where it is.”

Liam laughed as he and the newcomers shrugged off their jackets and trainers before pulling on ballet shoes.

“All right.” Dante called order. “Now that the ten of us are here, let’s start from the top. Bri, can you put the music on?”

The soft sound of classical music filled the room and snuck out the open door. Matt made himself as comfortable as possible in the seat and watched his beauty dance.

<><><>

“Too rigid, Lis,” I chastised, frowning at my friend in the mirror. She grimaced as Gerrard loosened his grip on her waist.

“I’m not,” she retorted.

“Yes, you are,” I replied, then did my bout of spins before feeling Dante’s hands reaching for me. He pulled me into his arms as I curved my body downward.

We’d been dancing for three hours and needed a break.

“Take five,” I murmured once upright. Dante nodded, letting go off me and rolling his head around his shoulders.

“All right, everyone. Twenty minutes, then we start again.”

Our top dancers groaned before filing out the fish bowl. Dante and I stood facing each other.

“Something’s missing,” he mused as I bent down to touch my toes, keeping my legs straight. He smacked me hard on the butt and I yelped, straightening up to rub my smarting ass.

“What the hell, Dante?”

“That’s for keeping secrets and getting me into trouble with your crazy aunt,” he said with a grin. “But, seriously, I don’t like the choreography for the second act, Madi.”     

“Mmm, you’re right. Have you heard back from that artistic director about the job post? I think we’re too close to it. We need fresh eyes and new ideas. I mean, how much can we do? We’re owners, de facto artistic directors and dancers.”

Dante let out a weary sigh, pulling us both down to the ground. There was a light sheen of sweat on his smooth dark skin. I wiped my hand over his forehead and he smiled a thank you.

“Nah, he hasn’t called back. I doubt he’s interested. We’re nobody. Who wants to work for a small dance company like ours?”

I chewed my lips. It wasn’t like Dante to be this negative, but I understood. We were understaffed. Taking up the majority of the responsibilities had been hard going the past eighteen months.

“I got an email from that lady, the ballet mistress who left Birmingham Royal Ballet,” I muttered. “She declined our offer, was quite nice about it. From what I’ve heard, she’s going to the London Ballet Company.”

“Damn.” Dante rested his head on his knees. “We can’t compete with them, Madi.”

“But we’ve got our classes. That’s a major plus. These kids are getting trained by our instructors—”

“Yeah, the classes aren’t a problem. It’s our principals. I suspect Eddie and Bri are thinking about leaving us.”

“What?” I cried in dismay. Bri was one of our top principals and Eddie was almost as good as Dante. “They wouldn’t. They’ve been with us from the start. They wouldn’t leave.”

“They might,” Dante warned. “Eddie has a friend in the corps at the English National Ballet School, and she’s been telling him to try out with them.”

“How do you know this?” I asked, feeling sick to the stomach. If we lost Eddie to another dance company—well—once one leaves, the others soon follow.

“Shannon told me. You know those two have been hooking up since February.”

I nodded, feeling queasy at the possibility of losing our dancers. “Our latest production is good, Dante. All we need is to make a name for ourselves.”

“I know,” he muttered, head rising slowly. “Do you think about it? About what we left behind?”

I averted my gaze, unable to meet his eyes, fearing what I would see shining from their brown depths. “I’m sorry. You left because of me.” I got up and started for the door. Dante leapt to his feet and caught up to me.

“Hey, don’t do that.” He picked me up and spun me around until we fell laughing and dizzy to the floor. “I left because I wanted to, and you were loaded back then.”

“Shut up.” I laughed as we picked ourselves up. “We’ll make it, Dante. I know we will.”

Playfully pushing each other, we walked out the room. Dante came to a standstill, and I looked over to where he was staring.

“Matt. Why are you still here?” I asked, hurrying over to where he sat in the corner.

“Nathan took my car.”

“He left you here?” I was shocked. “What a douche. Why haven’t you called your driver?”

Matt reached for my hands. I put them behind my back.

“Madi,” Dante called. “You want me to get you a water?”

“Please,” I said, then turned my attention to Matt as Dante left us alone.

“You’re a beautiful dancer, poppet,” Matt said softly. “Don’t be angry with Nathan. I told him to go.”

“And leave you here?” I asked sceptically.

Matt nodded. Seeing as he’d failed to grab my hands, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into his lap.

“Technically I’m still on holiday, and I want to spend it with you.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He cut me off. “How long will you be?”

“A few more hours,” I advised, expecting him to complain. He didn’t. Instead he pressed a kiss on my cheek.

“Urgh.” I jerked away. “I’m sweaty.”

“I like it when you sweat,” he said with waggling eyebrows. “Especially when I’m the one making you sweat.”

“Stop it,” I murmured, feeling my face warm up. “I’m mad at you.”

“So, why are you sitting in my lap?” he teased.

“Because you’re holding me prisoner,” I retorted.

“Ah, you admit to being my prisoner? That’s good, poppet. I intend to take full advantage of my position as your jailer.”

He was so full of shit I burst out laughing. “You know, you’re silly for a man of your age.”

Matt frowned, then his expression lightened. “You make me feel like a teenager. A hormonal teenager whose sole intent is to—”