“Which leads us to finding some replacement feet,” said Trevor. “We’ve been looking on the registered dancer’s log and we’ve posted a request in the association’s partner request page.”
Alex couldn’t help but smile. Trevor and Scott were giving hope a huge boost, but the likelihood of finding a graded dancer who wasn’t already involved in the competition was slim.
“We’ll find someone, Alley cat,” said Scott, but he was shooting Trevor an agitated look.
“He’s as mad with me as he is with the redhead,” said Trevor. “I can’t dance in this. I’m an association official. We’re not eligible and you can bet if we tried it they’d slap a new rule in place so fast it would crack your other ankle, Scott.”
“It would’ve been the perfect solution,” Scott sighed.
“I think the perfect solution is to let it go,” said Alex. “It’s not meant to be this year.” Winning had been a long shot anyway, but it would have made things much easier all round. She wondered if Dan would be able to get the Mazda back on the road or whether this was the end of the line for the car as well as her competition aspirations.
“Alex, biting your nails won’t help,” Scott carped. “What do we have to lose by trying?”
Alex took her index finger out of her mouth and blushed. Scott simply didn’t have a pause button when it came to embarrassing someone. He was looking at her with both eyebrows in a suspended high jump on his forehead, waiting for a response.
She shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to see if there’s anyone out there.”
Anyone turned out to be a choice of either sixteen-year-old Cooper Perry or sixty-five-year-old Collin Davis. Anyone else was simply too young, too old, or not available.
A week after the accident, they were due to audition both dancers. For Alex it would be a break from trawling through employment websites, looking for part-time work. Phil was interstate again and, apart from a one long phone call, hadn’t been available to provide moral support. In any case, he had no patience for what he referred to as Alex’s ‘little girl fantasy world’. He was far more supportive of her getting a real job than continuing to teach and compete. It was almost as though he’d colluded with Sylvia. Gwen on the other hand was still sewing and no amount of suggesting it might not be necessary could make her put down her needle and thread.
The one bright spot was getting the Mazda back. Dan had been true to his word, getting it towed, repaired, and back in Alex’s hands in three days and at no cost. She’d yet to work out what to do to thank him or to apologise for her previous bad temper.
When she’d gone to collect the car at the garage, he’d been busy and brushed off any suggestion of her paying for anything. He’d simply tossed her the keys, flashed her a cheeky grin, and called her Teach, as though they’d never had an awkward moment. She wasn’t sure why that bothered her, but it did. Had he really done something for nothing, or did he expect some kind of reward in the long run? If he’d irritated her before, he made her nervous now.
Cooper Perry turned out to be one of those sixteen year olds still waiting for a growth spurt. The height boasted by his bio must have been aspirational because he was shorter than Alex and as slender as she was, his body still stuck in boyhood despite the fact his competence as a dancer was beyond his tender years.
The rumba and pasa doble Alex and Cooper danced was more for politeness than anything else. As a couple they looked poorly matched and while Cooper had excellent technique, he had no sex appeal and no stage presence, so together they were the visual equivalent of a good book with a bad cover.
Collin Davis was another matter altogether. He was the right height, though somewhat portly. He had a full head of silver hair and a neat trimmed beard that made him look distinguished and he danced beautifully. As a couple Collin and Alex looked like a Hollywood romance, the classic older man, younger woman combination.
They danced an Argentine Tango, moving well together, their movements precise and technically adept, and the little audience of beginner students who’d assembled for their class applauded when they came to their end point.
Dan was standing with the group. He wore a pair of loose cotton track pants that hung low on his hips and a singlet that showed off the muscles in his arms, his broad chest, and taunt abdominals. He was barefoot and his dark hair was wet, brushed back from his forehead in soft waves.
Without trying he had a commanding presence. It was impossible not to know he was in the room, though he wasn’t doing anything to attract attention if you discounted the display of his impressive physical attributes. Alex could feel his eyes on her making her feel self-conscious in a way Collin’s over-friendly gestures didn’t.
When they completed the dance, Collin turned to Scott. “I’d like to use my choreography. I think it will give us an edge.”
Scott snapped, “That’s not negotiable. I am the choreographer and, while I will certainly make allowances for the differences between you and me as dancers, we will not require your services in that area.” He was scowling, standing there in his orthopaedic boot, arms jammed in his crutches.
“My darling Alex, is that what you want too?” said Collin, in a loud voice that carried the timbre of a Shakespearean actor.
Alex frowned. Collin was an experienced dancer. This could work, but he wanted more of the share of prize money than they’d counted on – ten thousand dollars – and there was that overly familiar manner and the free use of endearments that made her squirm. Besides, beyond the thrill of winning, the reason Scott wanted to compete was to test his skills as a choreographer. But it was Collin or it was all over.
“Darling, Alex?” Collin repeated.
“Why don’t we have a look at some of your choreography?” said Alex.
“Excellent!” said Collin, clapping his hands for emphasis.
They divided forces, Trevor taking the beginner’s class and Alex, Collin, and Scott retreating to a rehearsal room for Collin to teach her one of his routines. At the end of the hour, Collin had creeped Alex out enough she was ready to face the fact their chance to stay in the competition was over. Collin didn’t stick around.
“Well?” Trevor asked Scott when they came back to main rehearsal room.
“The name Collin Davis has been scribbled between the words mercenary and opportunist in the dictionary,” said Scott, limping to Trevor’s side. “Not only did he refuse to use any choreography but his own, which was remarkably ordinary, he wanted to charge us a five thousand dollar fee for the privilege, regardless of whether we win or not.”
“Oh, and you couldn’t negotiate with him, Scott. You know, compromise, sits somewhere near can-do and no choice in the dictionary?”
Scott huffed. “I’d rather take one of our students and train them up than pay a single cent to that man. Besides he was far too familiar with Alex and I didn’t like that either.”
18. Side of Beef
Trevor said, “Do it.”
“What?” Scott huffed.
“Take one of our students.”
“Have you gone completely mad, Trev?”
“No. You just said you’d rather a student than Collin, and Collin was our last option.”
Scott sighed and closed his eyes. “I was just mouthing off. There is no way that’s possible.”
Alex cocked her head to one side. Part of her was pleased she wouldn’t have to put up with Collin, but knowing they were truly out of options was a low rumble of disappointment in her gut. This was probably the last year she could spare to compete, so this really was the end of their run and her dream of not having to take on a part-time job and do something about the car. She was mentally cycling through their students to see if there was any wild possibility of a candidate.
She turned to Trevor. “Who did you have in mind?”
Trevor tipped his head up and smiled towards Dan, who was standing with Mitch and Belinda and the students of the advanced Latin class.
“You are mentally unbalanc
ed,” said Scott, his jaw dropping.
“Trevor, you’re joking?” laughed Alex, but her smile fell when Trevor said, “I’m perfectly serious. We’re out of other options and it’s this or pull out of the comp.”
“But he’s a Neanderthal with two left feet. He knows nothing,” said Scott. “And even if he was minimally competent, why would he agree to it?”
“I just took his class. He knows a lot more than he lets on. He moves easily and he has an incredible presence. Dan and Alex would make a simply stunning partnership. If you’re half the teacher and choreographer you make out, Scotty, you can make this work. You can tailor the routines so Alex is the star and Dan is a superb support. You can play to his strengths. You can make everyone fall in love with them as a couple.”
On the sprung wooden floor between Scott’s plastic boot and Trevor’s leather soles lay an invisible gauntlet. Scott rolled his eyes; Alex held her breath. Dance with Dan? She looked over at him talking with Mitch. She knew he moved well, and picked up the steps quickly, but he was a rank beginner. He may look the part, but there was simply no way he’d agree to it anyway. Why on earth would he, especially after she’d been so contemptuous of him? Trevor was dreaming.
Trevor was moving. He was stalking across the floor towards Dan. Now Dan was laughing, running his hand through his thick wavy hair. Now they were both making their way across the room to her and Scott.
“Oh shit!” said Scott, cutting a look, part terror, part aggression, at her.
“I’ve told Dan our situation and he’s agreed to help,” said Trevor.
Standing beside Trevor, Dan looked at Alex. He couldn’t read her expression, but she looked more worried than relieved. He couldn’t imagine why they needed him. Trevor had just said Alex needed his help and that was enough to get him moving across the floor. But now that he was here and Scott was puffing like an old steam train, he was wondering what had possessed him. Alex didn’t even like him and he was so anxious about correcting that anomaly that he’d just agreed to God knows what without reading the fine print.
Scott sighed extravagantly. He stumped around Dan on his crutches slowly, making tutting noises, making Dan look over his shoulder to watch him.
“He’s not too tall. He’s got a decent body. Posture’s not bad. How are his knees? We need to know his knees are good,” said Scott.
“My knees are fine,” said Dan, bemused by Scott’s actions and words.
“Hmm, says his knees are fine. What about his back? If there are any back problems, then it’s over.”
“My back is fine.”
“Says his back is fine.”
“What about the feet? If they’re flat, this is not on.”
“Look, instep. I have an instep.” Dan lifted one bare foot and waggled it about.
“Hmm, says he has an instep. Gosh, he knows the proper word.”
“I’m right here, you know.”
“His ears work. Do we need that, working ears?”
“Hey!” Dan growled, leaning in towards Scott. “I didn’t ask to be here.”
“Mouth certainly works.”
Dan looked at Trevor and shook his head, his impulse to help out transformed into a strong desire to bolt. “Sorry mate, I’m outta here.”
“Dan, don’t! Scott!” said Trevor quickly, putting his hand on Dan’s arm and glaring at Scott.
“I said I’d do you a favour, but I didn’t sign up to be insulted and inspected like a side of beef,” Dan said, frowning at Trevor.
Scott snickered, “You said it, caveman, not me.”
“Scott!” Trevor near shouted.
“Oh, blow me!” Scott said, clenching his fists in frustration. “I don’t like this whole idea, but I can’t think of a better one. I don’t think caveman here can pull it off, but I don’t know what else we can do. Can you handle it, Alex?”
Could she? Dance with Dan, the caveman, the surfer, the player? The man who did extreme favours for people he barely knew? She couldn’t trust him – she wasn’t even sure she liked him – but he was standing there looking at her, waiting for her to say something. Trevor was right about his presence; he could draw eyes, he could enthral. Maybe she was part enthralled herself, part in lust with a caveman. Was that the reason she felt unbalanced around him? In any case, this was the last chance – she either agreed to this or their attempt was over.
“Yes,” she said, and Dan gave her a smile that crinkled his eyes and chiselled his cheek bones and she grinned back at him, and felt the stupidity of what they were thinking about. There was no way this would work, but it might be fun trying.
Scott sighed again, “We’re at your mercy, surfer dude. And I don’t like that either.”
Alex pressed her heel down on Scott’s good foot, not hard, but enough to warn him. “Dan, that’s Scott’s way of telling you he’s sorry. Right, Scott?” She shifted her gaze from Dan to Scott who said, “Something like that,” and pulled his foot away.
“Scott didn’t mean to insult you, Dan, but yes, we were inspecting you. If you had knee or back problems or flat feet we probably couldn’t do this. It would be too stressful for your body.”
Dan looked from Alex to Trevor; he held up both hands in a surrender gesture. “Ok, now you’ve got me worried. You’d better tell me exactly what it is you need from me.”
There was a silence and then Trevor, Alex, and Scott all spoke at once, making Dan blink in surprise. The reality of what they wanted him to do sunk in slowly. They wanted him to take Scott’s place in the dance competition for three rounds over the next nine weeks. They’d pay him five Gs if they won. His job was to help Alex stay in the placings while Scott’s ankle mended, so Scott and Alex had a chance at making the final round and claiming the fifty Gs prize money.
He was their last option. They were either completely friggin’ mad, or someone – Ant – had put them up to this. He roared with laughter. He wished Mitch and Fluke had stuck around to hear this. Maybe not Fluke. Fluke was likely to think this made up for causing Scott’s fall.
“I guess that’s a no then, Dan?” said Trevor.
Dan whipped around to face him. “You’re serious!”
Trevor nodded.
“What the hell makes you think I can do this? You’ve got advanced students so there must be other dancers around. I don’t get it. Someone put you up to this. You’re having me on.”
“It’s not a joke, Dan. We’ve tried to find other qualified dancers and, for one reason or another, we can’t get anyone,” said Alex. Now that Dan was back peddling, she was anxious to reel him in. He was their last chance and a last chance was better than nothing.
“Get a better qualified student than me – that can’t be hard,” Dan said. He looked at Trevor for an explanation that made sense.
“We have more qualified students than you, Dan, but none of them can match the way you look, the way you fit with Alex, and that goes a long way to making up the artistic side of the points score. We know you won’t score high for technique, but you have a strong presence and we can use that to our advantage,” said Trevor.
They were completely mad and he was thoroughly confused, but Scott got in his face. “You’re fricking good-looking and Alex is fricking gorgeous. You and Alex will look so fucking hot together, that no one will notice you can’t dance.”
His mouth dropped opened in surprise, he could’ve caught flies. He shook his head. “It can’t be that easy?”
“No. It will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, caveman. You’ll have to learn all the steps, the routines, rehearse every day, and that’s just so you don’t make a laughing stock out of Alex,” said Scott. “And if this fool idea is of any value at all, you’ll have to dance passably well so that we don’t give the judges any reason to disqualify or eliminate us. Put it this way – if you screw up, Alex and I lose. So, no pressure.”
Dan met Scott’s eyes, saw the challenge he was throwing down, saw his fear and anxiety. Ok, so this wasn’t a joke on the sca
le of Ant’s usual machinations. This was real. It was still nuts – world class, fuck-up-waiting-to-happen nuts.
He looked at Alex. She was smiling at him. “It’s a big ask, Dan, a really big ask, and none of us can see any reason why you’d do it. Trevor thought it was worth a shot.”
Trevor nodded. “You’re Janelle Maddox’s kid, right?”
Dan started at the sound of his mother’s name.
“It shows. I think you have some magic to bring to this you don’t even know about. Sure it will be hard work. It’ll be strange. I’m not saying the ballroom scene is the sanest in the world, but if you are your mother’s son, you’ve got guts and you don’t back away from the hard stuff.”
“Did you know my mother?” Something shifted in his chest at the idea of hearing about her.
Trevor shook his head. “No. I saw her dance. She was beautiful and she was a legend in the ballroom community. She was always the first to try something new. She was bold. She took risks, on the dance floor and in her life, and it was impossible not to watch her, whatever she was doing. You’ve got that quality in you, Dan, hard to define, but impossible to ignore.”
This had gone from weird to weirder. Dan shook his head to try and order his scrambled thinking. He couldn’t see any way this could be good, any way he could legitimately pull this off. His mother was a remote memory, shimmery and painful, and the reflection in the window was the proof he was his father’s son. He was a grease monkey, not a dancer. He dealt with cars not cha-chas, was built to climb under chassis’ not caper around a dance floor. He was only here because of the bet anyway. It would be wrong to get into this and then let Alex down.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea, guys. Alex, I’m sorry. I know what this means to you, but I can’t help you.”
Trevor reached out and gripped his arm. “Will you think about it, overnight?”
He sighed, shook his head. There was nothing to think about. This was quite possibly the dumbest idea he’d ever heard, but the look on Alex’s face arrested him. Something about the disappointment he saw in her eyes made him hesitate.
Grease Monkey Jive Page 11
