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My parents had asked me how my career was going, and I told them without using so many words, that I had been hired to teach adults how to dance.
They assumed I meant my students would come to my studio, but I didn’t. I always went to Rouge to teach the girls. Unless they were in my area, we never practiced at my place of work.
“Miss?”
I jumped, finding several pairs of eyes staring up at me. “Sorry, girls. I’m distracted. Keep practicing for another ten minutes and then hit the change rooms.”
While they went to get changed, I went to my notebook sitting by my bag on the floor.
I flipped through the pages, sighing when I read through my notes. I loved ballet. I lived and breathed it but now that I could only teach it, I had to pick up something else. I had taught myself to learn other genres and dance techniques. Mostly because I had been bored. But none of them called to me like ballet did. I was thankful for Candace and her husband, Ronny, giving me a teaching job at Rouge. My father eventually found out where exactly it was that I was teaching and even though he frowned upon it, he understood my need for more, so he never gave me a hard time over it.
Once class was over, I greeted the parents as they picked up their kids. One by one, I watched them leave. It had been the same routine for the past two years. I loved my job. The business. Everything about it. It had been my calling. But as much as I loved it, something was still missing. I loved teaching but there was something other than dance that I needed. I just couldn’t figure out exactly what that was. Maybe in time. But right now, I was in a rut.
Once my last student left, I locked up, shut the blinds, and took a deep breath. Looking out at the large dance floor, I smiled to myself. My body buzzed with anticipation.
Pulling the remote from the pocket in the back of my sweatpants, I pressed play, my smile widening when the sensual beat thumped through the speakers in the corners of the large room. The bass was hard, heavy, and it drummed into my heart. It made every nerve ending inside me, tingle with delight.
Stepping onto the dance floor, I stood in front of the mirror and let the music take me away. It controlled my moves like invisible strings hanging from my limbs. The music was the master, and I was its ever-willing puppet.
Several songs later, I was panting and wiping the sweat off my face when my phone rang. I took a couple of deep breaths to ease my racing heart and went to my phone. My eyes widened when I saw who was calling me.
“Hey,” I greeted. “What’s up?”
“What’s wrong?” Vincent Junior asked me without even giving me ahiback.
My stomach tumbled. How he always knew when something was wrong was beyond me. Add to the fact that he always seemed to call me at the most awkward time.
After our one night together before he went off to school, we had been talking non-stop. He got his degree quickly and now that he was home, we hadn’t met up yet. Not by ourselves anyway.
Rumors had gone around that when he was done school, he was going to come for me but that hadn’t happened, and he had been home for almost a month.
“Gigi?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I pulled the cap off a bottle of water and took a long swig.
“You sure?” he gritted out. “You sound like you just had your brains fucked out,” he said, his voice a little harsh.
I coughed, choking on the water. “I was practicing, if you must know.” Was he jealous? “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. It is my business.” He chuckled. “So, you’re at the studio?”
“I am.” My heart stuttered. Clearing my throat, I sat on the floor, put the phone on speaker and placed it on the ground beside me so I could stretch.
“What are you doing now?”
“Stretching.” I smiled, shaking my head.
“Interesting.” His voice lowered.
“What do you want, Vince?” Not that I was complaining that he called me when he had been calling me every day for as long as I could remember but something was up with him tonight.
“How was your day?” he asked the same question he always asked every time he called.
“Not too bad. I wrote a new routine.” One that I hoped I could share with him eventually. But there was something off between us. A wall of some sort and I had no idea if it was him or me that put it up, but I couldn’t seem to crack my way through it.
“What kind of routine?”
I bent forward at the middle, rested my head against my shins, and grabbed on to the bottom of my feet. “A sexy one.” I waited for him to comment and when he didn’t, I continued. “I have an adult class coming up and wanted something fun for them. The one woman is getting married and her maid of honor said that it would be exciting to dance. And it also gives them a good workout before they spend the night drinking. I’ll even have wine for them here.”
