Page 11 of Dance This Song With Me?

Eddy was gone, hung up before I could even reply. I drummed my fingers on the desk, irritated beyond measure. I could literally feel the anger simmering in my veins. It was probably clogging up my arteries and giving me blood pressure. I didn't need this shit. Closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath, I tried to find my inner calm, pushing thoughts of Emilio and dance lessons and overblown budgets to the back of my mind. There were other emails to answer, other people who needed advice. Other people I could help.

I opened my eyes and got to work.

There was a request for some ideas for a first date - that was easy: a hike in the Blue Mountains was always good and could be combined with lunch and some touristy shopping in the beautiful town of Leura, a couple of cafés in the city that I knew to be good, the art gallery - which was free, a walk along the harbor foreshore - also free, or iceskating. Of course, there were many other suitable options, but this selection covered a range of personality types without paralyzing them with choices.

Another email asked whether it was acceptable to break up with his boyfriend by text. While at first glance that might seem like a 'no' except if in-person might be dangerous, I knew it was more complex than that. The correspondant hadn't given any circumstances surrounding their situation, so I added additional situations where I thought it might be okay to text - where the other person might become confrontational or not accept the rejection, any kind of danger, long distance relationships (though a phone call might be kinder), very short term casual relationships, and a few other scenarios that came to mind. There weren't really many hard and fast rules with this one (except where danger could be involved), and it also came down a bit to the generation of the people involved. I stressed that it depended on the particular circumstances of any given situation and to always be safe.

I was still working when Eddy rang back.

"Hey, lover," he chirped happily. "You are so going to love me."

"I already love you, you idiot," I said.

"Well you're gonna love me even more," he said. "Emilio said he'll give the lessons himself, for free. I've got the phone number of the studio where he works part-time. He said to tell the guy - Lucas? - to call and schedule the first lesson and he'll take it from there."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I would've hated to let this dancing guy down. I hated letting any of these 'lonely hearts' down.

"Thanks, Eddy, you're a savior."

"You can thank me in person tonight," replied Eddy, and I could tell from the way he spoke what he was thinking.

"You're insatiable!" I told him.

"Pfft, I don't know why you say that. You've got a dirty mind!"

"Oh, I see. My mistake. If you don't want to..."

"Of course, I want to, you dirty fucker. Just come home early, okay? You've made me go hard," he whined.

"I'll leave the office as soon as I send this email off," I told him. "What's the phone number of this studio?"

"Oh, right, yeah. Forgot about that. You distracted me." Eddy rattled off the studio name and phone number. "He's to tell them he has an arrangement with Emilio, and to book an hour's lesson."

"Done!" I told him, moments later. "I'm packing up now."

A few more flirty comments slowed down the end of the call, but it gave me time to pack up the laptop and lock it away. Moments later, I was in the elevator, planning all the things I'd do to Eddy when I got home.

Chapter 9

EMILIO

When I arrived in the studio, Darla, the receptionist glared at me.

"You're 15 minutes late!" she told me.

I shrugged. "Yeah," I agreed. No biggie. I'd just run over time by 15. What was the hassle?

"You have a new client," she hissed, head indicating a young guy sitting over in the corner. His head was down as he studied something on his phone. "You could be a bit more professional and be on time, at least for the first lesson."

Eh. The guy was getting his lesson for free, if he couldn't chill out a bit...

At the sound of footsteps approaching him, my guy looked up. Wow. Wasn't sure what I'd expected, but it wasn't this. Dude was about my age, I guessed, with an oval-shaped face, stunning blue-grey eyes, and a shy cute-as-fuck smile. His head was covered in short-cropped bleach-blonde curls, which I knew weren't natural since his beard and moustache were dark. He had an aura of reserved innocence about him, and my first reaction was that I would love to be the one to fuck that up. That wasn't what I was here for though, so I held out my hand.

"Hey, Lucas, is it? I'm Emilio. It's good to meet you, dude."

"Oh, hey, yeah." As he stood up, I discreetly gave him a quick up-down. Dude was lean but muscular, in good shape. I probably shouldn't be checking out a client, but hey, I was a healthy, red-blooded male, what's a guy to do?

"Come on and I'll show you the studio where I give my privates," I told him, indicating a passageway where the private dance studios were located. The floor to ceiling glass was frosted from about a third of the way up, offering a level of privacy so no-one knew who was receiving the lesson, avoiding embarrassment if things weren't going well.