Page 26 of The Hot Shot
Okay, what? Not what I was expecting.
CC:Ballet?
GQ:Yes. Ballet.
CC:Ballet?
GQ:Are we talking in circles here?
Biting my lip against a grin, I rest my forearms on my balcony rail and answer.
CC:No. I’m trying to convey my skepticism.
GQ:You know, for an independent career woman, you’re awfully old fashioned in your outlook, Ms. Copper.
CC:Fine, I’m exposing my double standards. Send a picture as proof.
GQ:So untrusting. Here’s your proof,Mrs. Doubtfire.
He sends me a selfie. Wearing a tank top and baggy gym shorts over tight compression shorts, he’s in front of a mirror wall with a barre bar attached to it. Jake is with him, and they’re both making goofy faces, their tongues sticking out like Gene Simmons from KISS. Between them stands a thin and elegant older woman in a leotard. She grins with pride, her arms around the two men as if they’re her boys.
I laugh, and tap out a quick message.
CC:My mind is officially blown.
GQ:Is that all it takes? Should have done a pirouette for the shoot.
CC:Fairly certain would have resulted in panties going up in flames when that got out.
GQ:You say the nicest things, Chester.
Since I know he’s doing it to irk me, I let “Chester” slide.
CC:I’ll bite. Why are you taking ballet classes?
GQ:Jake found out about it when he pulled a hamstring and had to limber up. It’s great for flexibility, balance... stamina.
GQ:It’s GREAT for stamina.
CC:You keep repeating that like I’m supposed to be impressed.
GQ:Oh, you will be.
Cheeky, little... I start to type out an answer but he sends another text.
GQ:Plus, all the women in class are very eager to help me maintain my form.??
The happy fizz in my belly instantly goes flat, and I’m left with a sour stomach instead. If that isn’t a sign to put the brakes on this, I don’t know what is. I have plenty of male friends. None of them inspire jealousy.
CC:Don’t strain something while you’re at it.
GQ:If I do, will you give me a rubdown?
Right there. That’s flirting. I put down the phone and pace away. Who am I kidding? We’ve been flirting from the start.
James walks in the door and drops his key in the dish. He immediately spots me wearing a groove in the floorboards. “Well, someone has lost her happy face.”
“What did we agree on about reminding me to smile?” I warn, not stopping my pacing.
