Change Partners (The L.A. Stories)

by Alexandra Caluen

  Dmitri smiled into his drink. “There is something else.”

  “What’s that.” There were times when this kind of oblique approach would have worried Patrick. But his husband seemed almost lighthearted tonight.

  “I have decided to ask Richard to take the group classes. All but Rhythm.” Patrick’s eyebrows shot up. Dmitri added, “He has completed gold level DVIDA in all five styles. This is what he wants to do. He says, I will never be a Mateo, but would you consider me.”

  “When was this?”

  “In June.”

  “Things have been a little busy since then.” Since May, in fact. Mateo and Sam’s wedding, then Rory and Dana’s wedding. In between, a Cabaret show with several cathartic performances, including Dmitri’s number with Michelle. And all spring and summer, ‘Face the Music.’ Patrick picked up his glass again and drained it. “You have time to deal with things now. Has he mentioned it since?”

  “He said, could we talk after the summer show. I said we could.”

  “Richard’s been with the studio, what, eight years?” Dmitri nodded. Patrick thought about it. It wasn’t unheard-of for a student to become a teacher. Julia had made the same transition. For a long time, Richard had not made much of an impression. Patrick hadn’t been aware that he was even pursuing teaching credentials. One of the outside professionals with studio privileges was sometimes available to cover group classes or beginner lessons. But she was chasing an acting career; ballroom dancing had always been a fallback, and she’d been in the studio much less in the past two years. When Dmitri had a full staff – Julia, Michelle, and Elena – he hadn’t pushed for more of a commitment. Now with Michelle about to launch another title campaign, Elena fully occupied, Julia gone, and Hiro much more profitably employed with private lessons and coaching … they needed someone. If Richard was equipped to step into that role, if he truly wanted to teach – and if that meant Dmitri would be home every night – Patrick was very much in favor of him. He said all of that. Then he said, because he couldn’t quite believe it, “Does this mean you’d be home every night? Because that would be unbelievably great.”

  “Every night, and Sundays. Perhaps he would take one of the socials too.” There were now three open-to-the-public social dances most months. Those Saturday dances had been hosted by Dmitri – with Julia, or Michelle, or Elena – when he was available. With Hiro on staff, Dmitri’s commitment was already less. He’d considered asking Mateo to take one of them. Before he could say so, Patrick’s expression changed from happiness to concern.

  “Holy fuck, honey. Are you feeling all right? Should I be worried?” This was blowing Patrick’s mind. He sat forward on the couch, stared at his husband, reached for his glass again. Remembered it was empty, wished it weren’t. Especially if he was about to get bad news.

  Dmitri set down his own glass, then reached over and took his husband’s hand. “I’m well, mon cheri. I have simply realized that I will never have the time with you I want, unless I stop. Stop trying to do everything. So I will stop. If Richard cannot, I will find someone else.” He almost hadn’t realized that was his intention until he spoke. Now he thought back to those two weddings – both precipitated by what had happened to Ray, all four parties now saying ‘we should have done this before’ – and understood this was part of the same reaction. They really could lose each other in an instant. Too much of his time was spent away from the man he loved. That had to change.

  Patrick was speechless. It was an uncommon condition for him. Dmitri didn’t seem to require any more words. He tugged Patrick closer, into an embrace, and down onto the couch. Not to initiate lovemaking, only so they could hold each other for a while. For as long as they wanted. Because nothing else was more important.

  Dmitri spoke to Richard the week after ‘Face the Music’ closed. Richard was officially added to the staff the week after that. Dmitri had a word with Mateo, who was happy to take one of the socials as a regular gig. Hiro would take another. Dmitri looked ahead at the many weeks when his work schedule would, for the first time in his adult life, reliably be less than fifty hours. He had not the slightest concern about filling the time. He made many plans, all involving Patrick.

  Chapter 12

  November 2017

  There were fourteen couples in the Rising Star Smooth event. Vince and Michelle made the final. In the second round, Dmitri watched with concentration, trying to identify any weaknesses in their performance or technique compared to the other couples on the floor. After this event, they would have two months to correct or refine their routines before the next competition. He shook his head slightly. Kenji said, “There’s not much wrong, is there?”

  “No.” Waltz, tango, and foxtrot had been perfectly executed. The style was up to date, and the choreography was distinctive. Vince’s musicality was a serious advantage in Smooth. Dmitri knew that at least two other leaders in the final had switched from International Standard, and their connection to the music was nowhere near as good. The finalists were dancing the Viennese waltz at the moment. It had evolved so much from when Dmitri first began, and even since he was competing with Michelle. Now it was a blend of styles, with only the strong, fast 1-2-3 rhythm to tell the audience which dance it was. The DJ had chosen a modern pop track. Vince knew exactly what to do with it. Dmitri couldn’t help smiling when Michelle was suddenly blocked by another competitor, and Vince simply moved in and scooped her away, breaking from their routine to turn a potential collision into a spontaneous moment of near-flight. “Excellent.”

  “He kept her foot on the floor.” Kenji was smiling too. Michelle had followed Vince’s improvisation to a clear space on the floor. They’d gone back into choreography that Kenji recognized. “Are they going to place tonight?”

  Dmitri shrugged. He couldn’t say. They should, but as a brand-new partnership they might not. The judging panel might think they needed to see this pair a few more times before moving them to the front of the pack. “He will be better than me,” he said, almost to himself. Kenji glanced over; Dmitri was still smiling.

  “Only you could say that and sound pleased about it.” They looked at each other again. Kenji could tell that Dmitri was as close to laughing as he would ever get in a public ballroom. “Where is Patrick tonight?”

  “His niece is married tomorrow. Tonight, the rehearsal.” Dmitri stood to applaud, looking satisfied, as the emcee confirmed the end of the round. Michelle and Vince started off the floor, both smiling. Vince said something to Michelle and she laughed. She was looking for Kenji. He took a step away from the table and extended a hand. Dmitri watched with approval. His friend had been distant with Michelle earlier. After a moment of debate with himself, Dmitri said something. All of them needed Michelle to be at her best, and that meant happy. The way she was speaking to Kenji now, as they left the ballroom, was promising.

  There was a short break to allow the Smooth competitors who were also in the show dance event to get changed. Vince had also left the ballroom. Dmitri looked around at his tables; nearly every seat was vacant. Everyone knew that his attention was all on the new competitors, so his colleagues and students had been occupying themselves. He’d been aware of their applause and cheers while Vince and Michelle were on the floor. Now most of them were out there dancing, taking advantage of the music. He turned to Kelli. “Shall we dance?”

  “I would be honored,” she said, and placed her hand in his. They stayed on the floor until the emcee warned that the general-dancing break was ending, and called the show-dance competitors to the on-deck area. Kelli looked that way, shielding her eyes from the glare of the lights. “Is Michelle in her fight robe?”

  “She says the costume is a surprise. You have seen it?”

  “Yeah, just last week. Woo! You haven’t?”

  “Somehow it is never dress rehearsal when I am there.” Dmitri sounded indulgent. They headed back to the table.

  Kelli realized that the risers behind them were now packed full of people she knew
, from the Underground Cabaret as well as the studio, plus friends and co-workers. “Wow, I think everybody I know in L.A. is here. This is nuts!” She waved, grinning, then making an ‘eek!’ face as the emcee called the first couple in the show dance event. She sat down next to Dmitri, still holding his hand and not even realizing it.

  He glanced over at Kenji, who was just now joining them, and who looked considerably happier than he had earlier. “Is all well?”

  “Everything’s good,” said Kenji softly, as music started for the first couple. “I wish they weren’t dancing last, though.”

  Kelli murmured, “Me too. I’m all amped up.” They had to wait through three other performances before it was finally time for Vince and Michelle. They were announced, and then the ballroom lights went down to almost full dark. Dmitri had used the same tactic in his last show dance with Michelle; it gave the couple time to get into position on the floor. Now a spotlight came on, revealing Michelle in a sleek black costume: cap-sleeved boy-cut leotard, fishnets, and lace-up mesh dance boots. All the pins were out of her hair; it was just above shoulder-length, carelessly tousled. Vince was still in his black tuxedo pants. His fresh white shirt was buttoned only halfway up over a white tank top, with the sleeves rolled up and pinned. He’d changed from his patent-leather smooth shoes to matte-black jazz shoes. They looked like they had come to play. Someone in the audience wolf-whistled. Then the music started, Christina Aguilera’s unmistakable voice filling the ballroom as the lights came up.

  In the first few bars, Michelle and Vince did a complicated series of lifts and tricks, ending the lyric ‘and you can’t keep a good girl down’ with Michelle perched on his shoulder. Then he flipped her down and they went into sixteen counts of jazz. From there it was straight into a foxtrot sequence that broke out into quickstep. Half of the spectators were clapping along in time to the music. The routine was nonstop action, with lifts and tricks scattered throughout foxtrot, quickstep, and jazz sequences racing around the floor. It seemed Michelle’s legs were constantly in the air, but Vince was flying almost as much as she was. There was hardly time for the crowd to react to one stunt before there was another. When they hit their final Fosse-esque pose after ‘show me how you burlesque,’ the applause was thunderous. They took several bows before exiting the floor at the back corner.

  “Well,” Kenji said to Dmitri, “that could hardly be more different from the last one you did.”

  Dmitri’s final competitive show dance with Michelle had been a heart-wrenching adagio. He said, “No one will remember that now.”

  “Oh sure they will,” Kelli protested. “That was a wonderful dance. Everybody was bawling.” Dmitri made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Man oh man. I see them in rehearsal and they never just mark it through, but woo!” She fanned herself. “That looked really solid. Like, titanium. Don’t you think so, Kenji?”

  “Yes I do,” he said. “She’s never looked stronger. And Vince was sensational.”

  “They’d better win.” Kelli wasn’t sure if the awards were being given out immediately. The emcee hadn’t called for more general dancing, though there was some music playing. The crowd was restive. Some of the gang on the risers started chanting ‘Shall We Dance,’ and Dmitri was again trying not to laugh. It wasn’t all that long before the emcee announced the final awards of the evening, and called up the seven couples from the last round of the American Smooth competition. Vince and Michelle appeared again; she was back in her fight robe and he was in a long-sleeved gray thermal. “I’ll bet that dress shirt is soaked,” Kelli said. “Damn, I’m glad I wasn’t doing that. That was some crazy shit.” Dmitri snorted and Kenji laughed.

  They waited, nervous, applauding each couple as the places were announced. When the fourth-place couple was called and it wasn’t Vince and Michelle, things got loud on the risers again. Then it was “Placing second in all dances, Vince Connor and Michelle Matsumoto!” The risers went nuts.

  Kelli and Kenji looked at each other. “I suppose they couldn’t place them first. Not their first time out,” he said grudgingly. She laughed, still applauding as the winners were announced. As soon as the official photos were taken and the Smooth finalists left the floor, the emcee called the show-dance competitors. Vince and Michelle stepped back onto the floor with the others. The ‘Shall We Dance’ chant started again. Vince was cracking up. When he and Michelle were announced as the show-dance winners, it was pandemonium. They barely made it back to the table for hugs from Kelli, Kenji, and Dmitri before being swarmed by their friends.

  It was some time before things settled down. Michelle said, “I need to get these fishnets off, stat. Kenji, can you give me a hand?”

  “Always,” he said. “Always happy to help you take your clothes off.” It was so out of character for him to say something like that in public that her eyebrows went up, but she couldn’t help laughing. He put his arm around her and they headed for the changing room for the last time.

  Vince sat down and blew out a breath. “Fuck me, what a night. How’d I do, boss?” The awards didn’t really mean anything unless his coach was satisfied.

  “Excellent,” said Dmitri. “Better than me.”

  “Um, that’s impossible. But if you’re saying we don’t need to change a bunch of shit before Cal Open, you know, yay.” Vince leaned back against Kelli, who was standing behind him, and looked up. “Hey gorgeous. Shall we go see if the video is ready?”

  “Sure.” She leaned down to kiss him. “You were incredible. Awesome. Smoking hot. In the tango, there was this girl across the floor like -” she mimed leaning on her hand in a swoon. Vince laughed, rolling out of the chair to stand up. They went across the floor, holding hands, to the video vendor’s table.

  Dmitri was home before Patrick. He used some of the quiet alone time to tidy up his home office, thinking of where they could go for their winter holiday. It was such luxury to have time. The new partnership was so nearly perfect, he could be away for a month if he so chose. With all the regular staff, and their new Latin instructor Anya, Dmitri would hardly be missed at the studio. He finished in the office and went to the kitchen. Set up the coffeemaker for the next morning, still thinking. Then he went to the bedroom, set the scene, and waited.

  Patrick was later than he would have liked. Family functions always ran late. They started late, people (himself included) talked too much, and goodbyes lasted forever. It was ridiculous, especially this time, considering they would literally all see each other the next day. Today, he realized, glancing at the clock on his dash before turning off the car.

  The kitchen and den were dark. Patrick sighed a little, thinking Dmitri was probably asleep. Then he went up the stairs to the bedroom and stopped short. “Hi sweetheart.”

  “Mon amour.” Dmitri was lounging on the bed, naked. That was both unexpected and a complete thrill.

  Patrick observed the bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, the two flutes waiting to be filled. “I take it we have something to celebrate?”

  “If you are not too tired.” Dmitri stretched, deliberately provocative. Patrick grinned. They might be on the far side of middle-aged, but maybe ‘use it or lose it’ was accurate: they’d never stopped being red-hot lovers. “Will you join me?”

  “Will I ever.” Patrick didn’t go to kiss his husband right away, because the drive from Glendale had taken what felt like forever. Instead he stripped off his clothes as he headed for the master bath. He was out of there a few minutes later. He’d heard the cork pop. Dmitri handed him a full glass; they tapped the flutes together and drank. Then Patrick set his down and leaned in for a kiss. The next thing he knew he was on his back and Dmitri was half on top of him, and they were both laughing. “God, I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Dmitri said it in English so seldom that Patrick remembered each occasion. Another kiss, a dozen, a hundred. Then lovemaking, the well-practiced touches that suited them both perfectly every time. Sometimes they could take an hour for this. Sometim
es - like tonight - it was fast, reducing them both to speechless, sweaty oblivion in mere minutes.

  After a few more minutes to recover, Patrick lifted his head from Dmitri’s thigh and said, “Champagne.” Dmitri put the glass in his hand. “Thank you. Whew. You never cease to amaze me. So what are we celebrating?”

  “Nothing to correct.”

  “Vince and Michelle?”

  “They placed second. And won the show dance.”

  “Holy cats.” Patrick levered himself into a sitting position so he could drink more freely. “Well, good job, coach.” Dmitri snorted. “Does that mean we can take a vacation before the shitstorm starts at my office?” Tax season never really ended for Patrick’s sort of clientele, but January to April was always the worst.

  “Where would you like to go for a month?”

  “A month?!” That was totally beyond.

  Dmitri sat up too. He could tell Patrick was too startled to think. He had a sip of wine, then set his glass aside again. “My love. We are together for fourteen years. You sacrifice for me, again and again.”

  “It’s never been a sacrifice.” It was automatic, but sincere. “I was so lucky to even find you.”

  “No. I had the luck. My career, it barely exists without you. And without you, none of it matters.” Dmitri leaned close again, kissed Patrick again, and ran a thumb under his eyes to wipe away tears. “Where?”

  Patrick could think now. He swallowed, sniffed, thought about the last few places they’d discussed. There was one that immediately came to mind. They’d both always wanted to go back. And some friends would be there for a couple of weeks in December. “Argentina. Andy and Victor are going for their honeymoon. We’d miss the wedding, but we could hang out with them while we’re there. Is good?”

  “Is good.” Dmitri kissed him again. Soft, lingering, loving. “Is perfect.”

  “I’m a much better dancer now.”