by Tonya Plank
“So where do we go from here? Is that what you’re thinking?” I said.
She laughed and threw her hands up. “Exactly. Your ability to read my mind is a bit unnerving, you know!”
“Well it’s not hard, given I’m thinking the exact same thing. Plus, it’s my job,” I said, my facial expression now completely serious.
“Your job? How’s that?”
I responded with the only thing I was completely sure of in our future. “You are the woman I love, Rory. The woman I am meant to spend my life pleasing. I want nothing more than that now. So, see, it works that I can see into your soul.”
“Aaawwwww!” Samantha wailed.
“Okay, sweetness overload. Methinks you two need to be left alone right now!” Paulina sang.
Just then a loud mambo began to blast over the speakers. Hips began swaying out on the balcony.
“And that’s our cue!” Paulina said.
“Okay, so tell me what it is I want?” Rory asked me after the others had gone to join the fun.
I looked around the room and squinted, thinking hard, then said, “I think right now you just want to go home. To our house in the hills.”
“Our house!” she squealed.
“Yes, our house,” I repeated.
She closed her eyes and swayed from side to side for a few moments. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want,” she whispered. “Take me home to your…to our castle in the sky.”
Chapter Sixteen
As it turned out, we soon had an abundance of choices. We hadn’t even left England when the emails from L.A. started flooding our inboxes. I’d received a phone call early in the morning of the last day we were there from one of the Blackpool organizers, saying their office had been inundated with calls from Hollywood agents requesting our contact information, which of course hadn’t been public. She said she initially directed her staff to take names and numbers so we could return their calls but there were way too many and it was becoming too much to handle for them. She wanted to know if she could give out my email or mobile. I’d said no to the phone, but yes to the email, and within hours I had far too many to even read, let alone respond to. The agents had heard about the events in Blackpool and had seen our pictures and seen us dance, and apparently thought we’d be perfect for TV or a feature film.
“You turned down the reality shows before,” Rory said. “They think that now that you’ve won the championship, you’re going to reconsider?”
“The shows asked me directly. I don’t know that the agents would know I rejected them.”
“Well, would you reconsider?”
“I don’t know.” And I honestly didn’t. Like Rory, I wasn’t sure what I wanted now that I’d achieved what I’d wanted for so long. I definitely needed some down time to process everything that was happening.
But I felt I had to respond, to be professional. I ended up spending the entire day reading emails, writing back, and organizing times to meet when we returned to L.A. A total of three different projects were in the works that one or both of us were wanted for: two longstanding reality competition TV shows that paired celebrities with champion dancers—one based here, one back home—wanted to offer us an insane amount of money to become pro dancers on the shows. More than any of the pros had been paid before, according to the agents.
The second option was a new reality TV show that took a behind-the-scenes look at the world of competitive ballroom dancing. We’d of course be the first showcased pair of champion dancers. The program would follow us for the next year as we prepared for the World Championships, the U.S. National Championships, and Blackpool again next year, to see if we could continue our winning streak.
The third project was for me alone, as they already had the actress: a movie with kind of a Cinderella storyline about a young woman from the wrong side of the tracks who meets a glamorous, sexy ballroom dancer and is whisked away to a fairytale world where she completely remakes herself and falls in love.
Rory laughed when I told her this storyline. “It sounds just like my life.”
“You’re not from the wrong side of the tracks,” I said. “You’re a lawyer.”
She laughed again, but this one was lighter. “Funny, it doesn’t seem that way. It seems like I’m…just…I dunno, lower class…”
I finished her thought for her. “Than who? Than your sister.” Jeez, her family was as bad as mine, albeit in different ways. Mine was physically abusive, hers emotionally. We needed to put them behind us once and for all. We were working on it.
The last project was already underway. The screenplay had been written and the lead actress had been cast. And she was a pretty big deal. She was such a big deal that they were having a hellish time figuring out who would play the dancer. No one seemed strong enough to hold his own opposite her, they’d told me.
“Oh please,” Rory said. “I don’t care how unknown you are right now in Hollywood, you have so much charisma and personality as a dancer, you could hold your own against frigging Angelina Jolie.”
The thing that appealed to me most about this one was that, as written, the male lead wasn’t Russian. It meant I’d have to be passable as American. It couldn’t be overstated how huge a deal that was. That was my second dream in a way, now that I thought about it: to be American. To truly belong.
“That you are!” Rory shouted, pumping her fist in the air.
I looked at her dubiously.
“Oh my God, I’m so serious. Unless and until you get all upset and worked up about something—like, say, an imperfect practice before a dance competition—your accent is one hundred percent American and your grammar is impeccable. It’s crazy! You can so do that role, Sasha!”
But this project lacked one thing. I cocked my head to the side and squinted my eyes. She read my thoughts.
“Yeah, I know. I would love to do a project that we can both participate in. But…I don’t know. This is so you. The actress is huge. And it’s on the big screen. It could lead to so many other things. Sasha, I know how much you want this. You turned down the TV shows before for a reason. Do the movie.”
***
I thought about it the whole flight home. I made it clear to Rory I’d do whichever one she wanted. She was the one to choose. She said she’d think about it, but knew she wanted the latter for me. She couldn’t imagine trying to teach a celebrity to dance. “If I can’t envision myself as a teacher at a little ole ballroom studio how’m I gonna teach someone famous?” she said.
“Because you have confidence now,” I said sternly.
“Yeah, but seriously, Sasha, that kind of thing just isn’t for me. It just isn’t.”
“What about the middle one?” I said.
“The documentary?” She thought about it and nodded. “It would be the life we’ve lived for the past several months, only we’d now be followed around and filmed. I mean, if they really do want to film the Tucker trial, I don’t know how well that’s going to go down with the English courts. But even if they couldn’t get that footage, they might be able to gather pieces of the story separately. You know…” Her eyes darted about the plane, in thought.
“What? What’s going through your mind?” I asked.
“I mean, I’m just thinking about Tatiana’s journey. All she’s gone through after Siberia, in Tokyo, in California. I mean, I wasn’t joking about that exposé someone should make about the agency. Maybe that reality/documentary project could be about more than just the world of professional ballroom dancing, and could put some focus on something larger.”
I squeezed her hand tightly. “You are brilliant. My beautiful, brilliant lawyer dancer,” I said, kissing her.
***
As it turned out we were able to do both of the latter two. The movie casting crew auditioned me and told me the very next day they wanted me. But they did want me to work with a dialect coach and take elocution and acting lessons. I wanted nothing more than to make my American English beyond perfect. Rory was so right to
insist on this project. It was perfect for me.
Amazingly, when the reality TV people found out I’d accepted the movie offer, they were even more excited about casting us than before. They broadened the scope of the documentary. They would now follow me around as I took all these lessons and prepared for the role, and as I struggled to do my work for the movie and still have adequate time to rehearse for competition.
I’d made Rory mention to the director the ideas she had for including the—let’s face it, flashy and sensationalistic—criminal activity we’d been inadvertently involved in. She suggested we could do so without violating any fair-trial issues by focusing more on Tatiana’s story and what she’d been through.
The director was young and biracial, and the more Rory spoke with her, the more she realized the director had a genuine interest in expanding the story so it wouldn’t just be about glamour and fame and the hard work of a dance competition, but about what happened to the people left behind as well, and the families and backgrounds of some of these international stars. The director interviewed and really connected with Tatiana, and Tatiana liked her, compelling the director to accept all of Rory’s suggestions. They even wanted to accompany Tatiana and me back home and film some footage there. I wasn’t too thrilled about that, but I knew how much Rory was, and Tatiana was game, so long as she didn’t have to stay. So, I agreed to do it. For them. The two women in my life, whom I loved more than anything.
The director had additionally decided to film Rory as she prepared to be second chair in Jamar’s trial! Yep, it all worked out for her. She was going to get to work on the case she so believed in after all, despite that asshole, Gunther.
James and Jacqueline had called Rory after we returned. Jacqueline in hysterics, of course. But instead of berating her for getting herself involved in criminal activity, as Rory had expected, her sister was actually supportive, congratulating her on having won the biggest ballroom competition in the world, and being genuinely happy for our new projects. Moreover, James had excellent news. The court had pulled Gunther from Jamar’s case for some kind of ineffective handling of evidence. It was all over the legal news dailies, he’d said. The court happened to have transferred the case to a friend of James’s. James called the friend and explained Rory’d worked hard on the case, truly believed in the client’s innocence and had a lot of knowledge about him. The friend decided he wanted her to assist. So the ass of an ex actually did something good in the end. Not that it made up for all the shit he pulled, but, okay, maybe some.
Rory still wasn’t sure if she wanted to return to a career in law, but if she did, it was going to be representing the underprivileged, not helping rich people find tax loopholes. Jamar’s case would be excellent experience and might give her options.
“I’ve never really stopped thinking about his case,” she’d said to me, snuggling into the crook of my arm after her meeting with James. “I need to help.”
“Of course you do, my sweet, brilliant little do-gooder,” I’d said, kissing her yet again.
James had more interesting news, she told me. Though he’d changed firms, he’d heard Mitchell and Cheryl were undergoing divorce proceedings. Cheryl had moved in with her new, much younger ballroom instructor.
I raised my eyebrows on hearing this. “Well, I hope he can give her what she needs.” And I meant it. She was obviously profoundly unhappy with Mitchell and wanted more out of life than he gave her. Rory and I had both been there. We hadn’t tried to sabotage anyone else by seriously injuring them, of course, but I felt like this meant Cheryl was now otherwise occupied and would stay out of our business for good.
***
After a couple weeks of staying with me, Tatiana moved into Rory’s old apartment and Rory moved into my place—our place. I hired permanent bodyguards for Tatiana and Rory—you just never knew the power of someone like Tucker—who remained stationed outside Tatiana’s apartment building and our house. So I didn’t worry as much about not keeping both of them under my watch 24/7, which, with my now crazy-busy schedule, would have been impossible.
Tatiana was still shy around Rory, but she liked living on her own and being self-sufficient. She took classes in English as a second language and prepared for the S.A.T. She’d told me she wasn’t too keen on being a non-traditional college student but wasn’t sure what else to do. She wanted to be an actress but I wasn’t sure how long it would take for her English to be up to par. Her linguistic skills were a lot weaker than mine. She definitely didn’t want to dance and follow in my footsteps. I certainly understood wanting to be your own person.
“Following in someone else’s footsteps always means you’re one step behind,” Rory agreed. “I’d know. I lived in Jacqueline’s shadow for way too long.”
I was sure Tatiana would find her way eventually. She’d find what was right for her and what she was brilliant at. I had faith.
***
Rory returned to Infectious Rhythm once a week to take an advanced class with Bronislava, simply to keep her mojo. And so the filmmakers had a reason to film at the studio where it all started for her. She’d really wanted to give her friends—Paulina, Raj and Sam, Kendra, Pepe, Mitsi, and Bronislava herself—little cameos on the show. Their personalities were all so over the top, the filmmakers had a blast capturing it all.
Josie, Kendra’s girlfriend, never returned to the studio. Instead, she ended up with a role in my movie. She’d play a former dance partner of mine. She’d wanted to be an actress too, but had never revealed it to anyone out of fear her dream would never come true.
After Rory began working second seat on Jamar’s case, she called Melinda Berenson, the appeals attorney for her former client whom she’d thought was mentally ill. The psychiatrist had indeed found him to be a paranoid schizophrenic, just as Rory had suspected. He was currently in a mental hospital, on medication, and would go to trial after he was declared—by a mental health professional, this time—mentally fit to stand trial.
“If he would have gone to prison and remained untreated, he almost definitely would have deteriorated, making him all the worse—and far more dangerous to his ex-wife and to everyone else when he got out. Now he’ll hopefully get the help he needs,” Rory said.
“Once again, you were right. You knew better than your so-called superior. You’re very intelligent, very intuitive. Don’t you ever dare doubt it again,” I said.
“I won’t!” she said with a little laugh.
***
One night as we were rehearsing with Greta, the documentary director ordered the camera operators to stop filming. We all did as she said, and looked at her. She seemed truly distressed.
“It seems like you guys are on your best behavior whenever we’re around?” she asked, though her statement wasn’t a question.
“We can’t be on our best since you’re always around,” Rory said. I heard tiredness in her voice. I knew she was getting sick of being followed.
“Well, I guess that’s true. But I mean, how can you guys get along so well? You never argue. You never have any disagreements over anything. I’ve filmed dancers before. I know what it can be like, especially before a big competition. This is the Worlds, you know!” The director threw her hands up in exasperation.
We three stood there dumbfounded. I was so used to getting along with my ladies, I hadn’t noticed we were doing so. It was natural now not to fight. Greta and Rory burst into laughter.
“Sasha used to be a huge problem.” Rory pointed at me.
What? I widened my eyes at her.
“He used to be a horrible perfectionist,” she continued. “We had to teach him to calm down and see dance as an art form and not an Olympic competition all the time, and actually have fun with it. And to stop trying to make me into a replica of himself and allow me to do more of my own thing that allowed me to shine.”
I looked at her, mortified. She was making me look like a crazy, megalomaniacal control freak. Okay, I’d been bad, but not that bad.
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“Because obviously,” Rory continued, “I will never, ever be as fast and strong and razor-sharp as him.” She finished with a cutely playful pout directed at me, followed by a wink. I realized she was blabbering, making crap up on the spot so as to refrain from giving away our real techniques for developing a partnership. They included, after all, me blindfolding her so she’d learn to follow me, and then doing…other things while blindfolded to get her to use her other senses. And then her demanding we dance naked so I’d be gentler with her body. Yeah, no, the director wasn’t getting all that.
“I remember we decided I would act as go-between,” Greta said. “So Sasha wouldn’t get out of control. They weren’t allowed to say anything negative to each other. They had to say it to me.”
The director looked back and forth between Rory and me like we were children. Okay, time to fess up.
“I-I was a perfectionist,” I admitted. “I’d always fought with all of my partners. Badly. And Greta did act as mediator when we got out of control. Which helped immensely. But…” I walked toward Rory. “I just, I don’t know how to explain. Rory and I were the right partners for each other. I fell in love. Really, madly in love. That’s how we became true partners.” I wrapped my arms around her back and kissed her forehead. “And with that naturally came respect,” I went on. “Respecting each other’s boundaries and limitations and strengths and weaknesses, both physical and mental. It’s only if you respect each other that you can listen to each other. You can’t work together without respect.”
“Respect, and dancing naked together,” she whispered in my ear.
“Stop it,” I whispered back, now trying hard to keep my emerging hard-on at bay.
“Seriously. When are they going to leave so we can do our naked rumba? We’re never alone anymore,” she play-groaned under her breath. Which was not making my…little issue…any better.
