Page 58 of Dance with Me
“If this isn’t an unmitigated success . . . you can go back to the guest room.”
Her breath halted. She’d still been sleeping in his bed. There’d been a lot of cuddling, but nothing more. As much as she’d complained about it at first, she’d gotten used to sleeping beside him. She didn’twantto go back to the other room. But did he want her to?
“And if itisa complete success,” he went on, “you have dinner with me tonight at the restaurant.”
The restaurant. His business venture that took so much of his time. She’d never been there.
It shouldn’t bother her that he’d never taken her. They didn’t go out together. They didn’tdate.They worked together, occasionally went out with the cast as a group, and sometimes they screwed. But they weren’t a couple, and this wasn’t arelationship.
But if all that were true . . . his words echoed in her head.Would I be in love with you?If they were just fuck buddies, just roommates with benefits, why would he say that? And now, with this stupid bet, he was either going to kick her out of his bed, or take her on a date. None of it made sense.
“So, is it a bet?”
She blinked. They were about to enter the studio, and he was holding a hand out for her to shake.
“Um . . . whatever.” She shook his hand. “Open the door. And remember, no cursing.”
He shot her a wounded look. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
He laughed and held the door open for her.
As she crossed the threshold, Natasha switched over into teacher mode. With a big smile on her face, she hobbled into the room on her crutches, noting the looks of surprise and worry on their small faces.
“Hi, friends!” she said brightly, hoping her tone would allay their fears.
Cara, a three-year-old with thick dark hair and a purple tie-dye leotard, hopped up from her spot on the floor and touched Natasha’s left hand where it gripped the crutch. “Miss Tasha, you have a boo-boo?”
“What happened, Miss Tasha?” Emiko, the oldest in the class at five-and-a-half, came closer, and the others crowded in around them, asking questions.
Natasha made her way to the chairs Lilah’s assistant had put out for her, next to the sound system. She took a seat and propped her foot on the second chair. “I was dancing and a took a bad step,” she told them. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine in a few days, but for now, I have to take good care of myself.”
“Does it hurt?” Ryan, an energetic five-year-old boy, stared at the wrapping around Natasha’s bare foot. His little hand crept closer.
“Not anymore, but it hurt a lot when it happened,” she told him. “I still have bruises, so please be careful.”
Ryan snatched his hand away, then shifted through the crowd of kids so she could give him a one-armed hug. He’d been in the class since he was three, and of all the kids, he was the most attached to her. He had already cried twice about not being in her class next year.
As she assured them she was okay, their curious gazes drifted over to Dimitri, who stood off to one side.
“Who’s that?” Sofia, at four, finally voiced the question that must have been on all their young minds. She pointed a finger straight at Dimitri and did not look impressed.
“That’s Mr. Dima,” Natasha told them. “My friend. Since I can’t stand up for very long, he’s here to help me teach the class.”
Ryan looked skeptical. “Can he dance?”
Natasha stifled a chuckle. “Um, yes. He’s a very good dancer.” She clapped her hands. “All right, friends. Time to take your places.”
The children scrambled to their spots on the brightly colored plastic circles spaced around the floor, already set out by Lilah’s assistant, who sat in the front waiting area, watching the parents.
Dimitri sidled closer as the kids took their places. “Mr. Dima?”
“Dimitri has too many syllables,” she said from the side of her mouth. “You don’t want to hear them mangle it.”
“Actually, I kind of did.”
They shared a smile, and then she directed him to take her usual spot in the front of the room. She turned on the music and called out instructions from her chair. Dimitri demonstrated, and the kids followed his moves, sneaking looks at her periodically. Natasha kept a smile fixed to her face and counted the beat out loud.
