Dance With Me

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Dance With Me Page 5

by Lexus Love


  With righteous rage boiling through her veins, Debbie stepped back and let loose on Marcus. “Listen here, you nasty mu’fu-”

  “Debbie!!” Jaime called out to her to gain her attention as she was about to cuss Marcus’s ass out on the floor.

  She swung her head in Jaime’s direction, took note of his indication to come to him, dismissed Marcus with a glare and a loud, sharp, rude sound of sucked teeth as she walked off and left him standing there, staring holes into the back of her skin tight jeans clinging to her round fleshy ass cheeks, that swayed with every step she took away from him.

  Jaime struggled to contain his laughter at the thunderstorm look on her face as she approached him, smothering her rage.

  “Yes?” she asked, clearly still steaming.

  “Uhm...” Jaime had to clear his throat as he jumped headfirst into the shark tank and blurted out his idea to Debbie. Her eyes widened into saucers.

  “You want me to teach him?! A known criminal?! How to dance to Kompa music?!” She cried out hysterically, pointing a finger in the general direction of the handyman.

  “You must be out your damn mind to even suggest such a thing to me!”

  Jaime grabbed her by the elbow and forcefully turned her away from the sudden frowns and curious glances from the other people across the room.

  He looked over her shoulder to where the young man was now painting the dry walls of the room a creamy light yellow. His strokes with the roller slow and even. His muscles in his broad back contracting with each roll. Mesmerizing.

  When he dared to mention that he was her boss and used the famous line ‘a friend in need…’ her gaze sharpened and narrowed on Jaime.

  “No.”

  Jaime squirmed under her scrutiny. “You must understand the situation we’re stuck in right now, Debbie.”

  “No.”

  He pleaded with her for understanding. “Tyron’s out of commission for quite a few months, you’re without a partner for the showcase.

  None of those fools over there, who are lusting after your fat ass,” he indicated with his thumb towards her three so-called practice partners, “can keep up with you. Not even that sweaty son of a bitch, that’s leaking all over my shiny new floor like a busted drainpipe.”

  Debbie’s startled laughter caused more than one head to turn their way in curiosity once more.

  Jaime shushed her and begged her to keep her voice down.

  Oh, she would keep her voice down but not quiet. “Hell no, I am not doing it! He’s just like the guy that murdered my father!” she said venomously.

  Jaime gasped and paled slightly.

  “What? I thought they caught that guy and he was doing life in prison? Isn't that true?”

  Frustration marred Debbie's pixie features into a gruesome mask. “Yes, it is. And... So what?! That does not mean he isn't guilty! That he wasn’t part of my father’s murder.”

  Jaime narrowed his lovely brown eyes at her. “Guilty of what exactly, Debbie? Do you know something the police don’t?” he asked her suspiciously.

  He was starting to see a pattern here.

  “He could be guilty of anything, Jamie. He is a convicted felon you know.”

  Jaime heard the deep pain that slept within Debbie after all this time come right through that statement.

  However, now was not the time for mixing personal matters with business.

  “Alright now. Enough of this nonsense Debbie. Get over your self-righteous act. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

  She refused to back down, not even for Jaime. “I. Can’t! He killed my father!”

  Jaime stared her down something fierce “No he didn’t, and you know it!”

  “He was there! I know he was. I saw him. He was covered in my father's blood!”

  She knew she was getting loud and hysterical, but she couldn't help it. As far as Debbie was concerned that thug was responsible for half the world’s evil.

  Yet Jaime would not give her a chance to wallow in her hatred.

  “And he explained why that was, Debbie. Now if you want to continue working here, you will take that pound and a half of the hate out of your voice when you speak about any of my employees. Do you understand me?”

  What?! Was she hearing Jaime, right?

  “B…But Jaime! He’s a criminal! A felon! A kiddy-thug.” the last statement she stressed so hard on, he thought she was talking about a cardinal sin in the bible.

  “Can’t you find me another partner to dance with?”

  Oh, Jaime was so fed-up with this child. “Like who, Debbie?” Jaime asked sarcastically.

  “Like…Billy Smithson?”

  Jaime startled laughter was no laughing matter.

  “Never.” Billy Smithson was once Jaime’s rival at Mambo Luxe and had long moved on to London, to open his dance academy, so her suggestion was just ridiculous.

  After that, each name Debbie could come up with was shot down with a ‘No!’ or Hell No!’

  At her whit’s end, Debbie suggested, “What about old man Sheffield, with the prosthetic leg? He would make a great partner for me. We get along just fine.”

  Jaime just stood there and stared her down. When Jaime shook his head no, Debbie looked like she was about to scream from frustration.

  “Look, I’ve already said no, twice. What else do you want to hear from me, Jaime? Best you find me another partner or else you’re going to have to choose another couple to portray your final act.”

  Jaime drew himself up to his full height and leveled her with the employer-employee card.

  With a bit more convincing- arguing more like -she asked, “What makes you think he’ll do this? That he would ever agree to do this?” Seeing her like this, Jaime decided to play his trump card. “I happened to see how he caught you a nanosecond before you hit the floor face first. You two fit snugly like two missing pieces of a puzzle.”

  Together, their eyes traveled to the big back of the still-growing young man.

  The stark white sleeveless tank t-shirt clinging wetly to his dark skin, from across the room he looked like a great hulking silverback the size of a mountain.

  It was unnatural, his size. He was just so...big for one so…young.

  And a thug to boot! That nasty shiver raced up her spine once more.

  “Jaime, please, please, please think about this. He’s a thug, a twice-convicted juvenile delinquent. They all think ballroom dancing is for sissies and fairies. No offence.”

  “None taken” Jaime replied straight-faced. “And I have thought about it, oh ...for ten...minutes.”

  Debbie sighed in frustration.

  “Look,” Jaime said, trying hard to convince her that he knew this was going to work. “I know why you’re hesitating to do this. And I can understand why. But, think about it. He’s been here for two whole months on unsupervised probation, which means he’s not all that bad.

  “What do you mean, he’s not all that bad?” she asked incredibly. “He’s a flipping’ felon for Peter’s sake!”

  “Did I say that out loud?” Jaime looked sheepish.

  “Yes, you did, Joan Rivers”

  “Okay. Sorry. What I meant was, he isn’t what you think he is.”

  At Debbie’s blank look that said, ‘do I look like I give a flying fuck?’ Jaime got defensive.

  “Look, he was trying to save his mama’s life and his own the first time he went to jail. Plus, he was sent to jail the second time on false charges.”

  Her large hazel eyes widen to saucers as she took in the broad back, heavily muscled man- child nervously.

  Jaime rushed on, trying to build her interest in his idea, “Besides, he’s been here every day for the last three months. He’s bound to have picked up something.”

  To break her nervous and terrified gaze away from the young man’s direction, Debbie said, “Jaime I don’t know about this. You know how I feel about his kind. –

  “His kind?!” Jaime was confused. Was he wrong about her? Was Debbie
racist against her own people?

  “Thugs, Jaime. Violent Niggas. They’re cruel and inhumane.”

  Sigh. “However, because I love you, I’ll try.” Another deep sigh. “But…Do you think he can learn the turns correctly?”

  Jaime tore his gaze from Nigel as well and saw the doubt in Debbie’s eyes and decided to humor her.

  “Of course, he will learn the turns correctly. He’s an intelligent kid. He’ll do what he's told and how.”

  Debbie chuckled in confidence. “True. If he does not want to go back to jail.”

  With a smirk, he continued. “And besides, he’s young and strong. He’ll be able to pick your fat ass up with little effort. Don’t know anybody else who can do that”

  Her hazel eyes once again narrowed into slits of violence; Jamie took a cautious step away from her.

  What? Her natural, apple bottom ass cheeks hung out about two inches from her back.

  “I'm sorry, Babe.” He quickly apologized. “I am. You know I love you, like my baby sister, boo. But, I need you to help in my time of need.”

  “Are you trying to blackmail me into accepting this?” she asked incredibly.

  Jaime took a deep breath, “Yes, Yes I am.”

  “Oh, Good Lord. You’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked disbelievingly.

  “Yes boo, I’m serious.”

  Debbie considers the disastrous possibilities of having to make a juvenile delinquent or more hardened criminal into a smooth dancer partner.

  She didn’t want to do this. At all.

  Having a kid paw at her openly anywhere that was considered legal, was not something she signed up for when she agreed to help her friend Jaime, jump-start his career as a legitimate dance instructor.

  Nor was she good at turning her back on a friend in need.

  But by golly, she would try.

  Yet staring into Jaime’s soulful cocoa brown eyes, Debbie knew she couldn't and wouldn’t do it. Besides, the boy was just another challenge she would have to face. A child, a very large man-sized child. And, she would treat him like one.

  Granted that she was nine years older than him, did not make him an adult in her eyes.

  No soiree. Just a big ole man child who needed discipline from a very strict adult, like herself.

  That, she was more than willing to provide him with. She was already dealing with one headstrong, child-like Negrete who was her very own blood, what was another nigga who needed coaching in life?

  This could be interesting…

  Even if her new partner was a freaking felon.

  And…Who knows? Maybe someday soon she may use this to manipulate Jaime into doing something equally hideous for her.

  “Oh, alright. I’ll consider it.” she sighed deeply in defeat.

  “Eee!” Jaime squealed out in joy. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, boo!” he gushed, enveloping Debbie in a bear hug.

  Debbie withstood the hug for all of two minutes then started squirming to escape his hold. “Okay! Okay. I get it. You’re very happy. Just don’t think I’m going to like this any.”

  Jaime let her go and stepped back to take a deep and thankful breath. “Yes, I am happy. Ecstatic, to be exact” he replied happily.

  “Good, But I’m telling you, I don’t want to do this. He won’t want to do this.” Debbie commented as she thought of the energy and time it would take to teach the dance to her new partner. She shuddered involuntarily.

  Fine. All she had to do was never show her fear of him to him and everything would be aye okay. Plus, she would give him the chance to prove her impression of him wrong.

  “Don’t worry about it. It will be fine.” Jaime said confidentially. “Now all you have to do is go over there and convince our new star of his new role.”

  The sound of a scratch record coming to a sudden halt crashed through Debbie‘s train of thought.

  What the shit?!!!

  10

  Nigel could not believe the words coming out the mouth of this fine–ass girl. The same fine-looking girl whose butt he saved earlier from her one-night stand with the slippery dance floor.

  When she and Mr. Marba came over to his corner in the closet, he’d heard them quietly arguing all the way, about something.

  Something that had to do with him.

  He’d remained crouched and continued to work on the unit even after Mr. Marba cleared his throat twice to gain his attention.

  The banging in the closet stopped but the young man still hadn’t acknowledged those two clowns in any other way.

  Mr. Marba had asked him something, stammering on and on about how well he took care of the dance studio, did his work effectively and efficiently.

  And how he was very intelligent and swift on his feet and was he willing to do it to help save his career as a dance instructor. Seriously, on and on….

  Nigel had learned from an early age, very quickly, how to tune out unwanted noise and was half-listening when the girl, Daisy, was it? Said or mumbled something under her breath about him, Nelson, or was it, Nick? being a thug and that he could benefit from this, seeing as to how he would get to learn the art of making love on hardwood and not go on thinking every woman would settle for huge pecs and two-second quickies in bed.

  He dropped the eight-inch spanner from his hand onto the floor like it was hot metal, and rushed to his feet in one great leap, thinking the fuck?, but asked haughtily, “Excuse me?”

  “I’m just saying,” the girl said with a shrug, not embarrassed by what she said earlier.

  When Nigel continued to stare at her and she wouldn’t meet his hostile stare, he turned his attention to Mr. Marba.

  The man was looking at his fill of the sweaty man-boy standing before him.

  Nigel glared back at him which had the older man straightening himself to his full height and looking elsewhere while he repeated himself.

  When he got the gist of what was being asked of him, Nigel was stunned ...and intrigued.

  “You want me to be part of your show? Dancing? Be her partner?” he asked Jaime.

  Nodding, Jaime confirmed his suspicions. “Yes.”

  The girl had yet to look him in the face. Foul-mouthed chicken head. Just like the rest of them in this place. Don’t pay them much attention, and they gave you the ‘I’m too Bootylicious for you, boy’ attitude.

  He’d heard what she’d said about him being a felon earlier, from across the room and he remembered her look of disgust when she’d pulled away when he’d saved her from a face plant.

  Just thinking about that got him all angry again…...and hard as a rock.

  “N. O. No.”

  At the simple answer, the girl said “told you” to Mr. Marba.

  That's when the ‘nigga’ in him came out.

  “See ‘cuz, I ain’t no punk bitch. I’m a thug, and thugs don’t prance around in leotards and shit like little fags, no pun intended, ite?”

  This was said with all gestures and body movements necessary to portray an “ignant” nigga.

  The girl dared to gasp “Why you little f-!” when Mr. Marba grabbed her by her forearm and slapped a hand over her foul mouth.

  She then pushed his hand away, kissed her teeth and ask Mr. Marba “See? Do you see what I’ve been saying? How am I to work with this ignant nigga?”

  Nigel’s temper took over then. Stepping into her private space, he looked her up and down with a look of genuine dislike and disgust plastered on his face.

  “I wouldn’t dance with you or do anything else with you for that matter, to save my life.”

  That was a lie, but she didn’t need to know that.

  He would love to fuck the arrogance out of her foine ass anyplace, anytime.

  The caramel goddess’s beautiful hazel colored eyes met his liquid gold ones in total and absolute resentment as she straightened to her full height in the pointy heels, arms akimbo.

  “Fuck you” She spat at him.

  “You wish you could be so lucky” He responded
/>   Mr. Marba didn’t even ask why. He just went on babbling about helping one’s fellow man and about adding a bonus salary while he completed his hours at the studio as the handyman as he and the girl continued to stare each other down.

  His pointed stare said what his mouth refused to say.

  The rising sexual tension was getting to Nigel, the massive log in his pants was now clearly highlighted against his muscular thigh. If she was to look down, she wouldn’t miss his erection.

  To avoid such embarrassment, Nigel simply stated once more, “I said no.” before returning to work.

  11

  The young man had dismissed them from his presence since he left Jaime stammering to get him to agree to help and Debbie staring daggers into his back.

  Jaime, seeing his attempts to change the young man’s mind about his decision right now, decided that this was all Debbie’s fault and she had to find some way to fix it, quick.

  He grabbed her by the elbow once more and pulled her away from the boy and whispered furiously to her “What the fuck was that about? Why’d you make him angry?”

  Debbie pulled her arm away and stood with her arms akimbo at her side.” I told you Thuga Boo was not going to do this. I told you so.”

  “Yes, you did. “Jaime replied angrily. “And you also made sure that he didn’t. With all this hostility rolling off you in sheets, I wouldn’t agree to do it either.”

  Her arms still akimbo, “What the hell are you talking about? Did you not hear what he said to me?”

  Jaime copied her stance and glared down at her. “Yes, I did. I also heard what you’ve been saying to me about him and what you said to his face. Child, I never thought I’d say this about you, but Debbie-girl, you are racist!”

  Debbie dropped her arm from her sides to stare at Jaime like he done lost his mind.

  “You keep referring to him as the ‘thug’ or felon, even criminal-”

  “But that’s what he is, Jaime.” Why was Jaime trying to make her feel like this was all her fault? All that she’d said and done was for his own good and benefit. He just hadn’t recognized that yet.

  “Why is that? Do you have something against all men from the ghetto or just him in particular?

 

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