Page 167 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

Dougie touched my shoulder lightly. “Are ye alright?”

I tried to smile. “I don’t need a knight, Dougie, but I could do with a friend.”

He held my gaze, a glimmer of relief shone from his features. “Aye, my wee flower, if ye’ll have me, I will be.”

Maybe I was the biggest idiot in the world, but it was always nice having friends. I didn’t need any more bitterness in my life. Plus karma was a crazy bitch, I did not want to mess with her if it could be avoided. She had already fucked my life right up. Dougie and I were friends once, I hoped we could truly be friends once more.

CHAPTER 19

I was Googling‘how to deliver a beat down’ but couldn’t find what I needed, so I just keyed in ‘street fighting’. Yeah. I was going to bust some ass today.

The office door opened and Dante walked in. “Gloria said you wanted to see me.” He came over and pulled a chair in front our desk. “What’s up?”

I minimized the internet page and leaned back in my chair. “How is the choreography going?”

Dante shrugged. “Would be better if you were on the floor with me.” He pointed to my right foot, currently encased in one of those ugly surgical boots, and elevated on top my desk. “Everyone is in the dumps, sweet cheeks.”

I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. I was experiencing it too. The come down from our 18 days of bliss on the big stage. After such a major production, the biggest my dance company had ever done; where did we go from there? Back to the grind.

“We’ll get our mojo back, D. I’ve decided on a name for our next production.”

Dante arched an inquisitive eyebrow at me.

“Sinners and Saints.” I advised with flourish.

He took a moment to mull it over, rubbing his chin while doing so. “I think it might be better as Saints and Sinners,” he suggested.

“Nope, the saints usually comes first. I want the emphasis on sinners. We’re all sinners.”

On hearing the underlying vehemence in my tone, Dante’s face twisted into an unsure frown. “What’s up with you?”

“Got a call from Matt’s lawyer this morning.” I said casually.

Dante groaned. “What does he want now? I still can’t believe you haven’t gotten yourself a lawyer as yet. What are you waiting for?”

I shrugged, getting a little distracted. “Legally our hands are tied until next January. Once the year is up and a divorce can be applied for, I’ll get a lawyer. Plus Matt re-assigned my bodyguard, his solicitor mentioned it before he ended the call. I’m no longer deemed important enough to warrant a shadow.”

The divorce was a formality. Matt had cut me out of his life like asurgeon uses a scalpel to excise a tumour. And the icing on the cake came in the additional exclusion by his friends and family. Not one of them, not Hannah nor Bella, I didn’t expect his mom to speak to me; but none of them had reached out to me, to ask if I was ok, or what my side of the story was. Only the twins had initially contacted me, two separate texts asking what was going on to which I had replied they should speak to their uncle. That was the first and last interaction I had with anyone from Matt’s side. Yeah. I had ceased to exist to them. Shoving those upsetting thoughts aside I refocused, it was time to deal with the problem at hand.

“Can Christine fight?”

Dante choked on something, I don’t know, air or spit maybe. “W-what?”

“Can she handle herself?” I asked. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being a total bad-ass who no-one should mess with, and one being a wuss who won’t press charges.”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Dante peered at me. “She’s got the crazy vibes thing going on. Why are you asking me this?”

I nodded to myself. Hmm. Crazy vibes? I had my own crazy vibes. Was mine more bad-ass than hers? “Do you think I can fight?” I asked.

Dante burst into laughter. “What has gotten into you? Why are you talking about fighting anyway?”

“Well? Do you think I can?”

“No, Madi.” Dante said firmly. “You definitely cannotfight. Remember when Jenny beat your ass for playing with her dolls house. She was six, you were nine-”

“I let her win.” My protestation was met with further chuckles.

“And the time she whupped your butt for tattling on her to Aunt Cleo. What was it she’d done? I can’t remember.” He laughed again. “But I do remember her thumping you. You were twelve, she was only-”

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