Learning to Tango
Page 2
“Declan seems like a nice guy, he was really sweet with Stasia.” Irish professional, Declan had got to the semi-finals of Stepping Out last year with Stasia, a Paralympic athlete who’d lost her right arm in a car accident.
“I don’t know,” Cate sat up. “I’m kind of hoping I get paired with Michel, at least that way he won’t be too disappointed when we get knocked out in the first week.” Michel was the oldest professional on Stepping Out and the only dancer who’d been with the show since the very beginning. He’d got all the way to the final in the second series but in recent years he’d been paired with comedy value contestants and hadn’t made it past week two.
Cate adjusted the screen of her laptop. “Ugh, how can you look so put together?” she scowled at her half-sister. “It’s barely sunrise in London. You should still be in your pyjamas with no make-up on and your hair sticking up at all different angles?”
Ruby fussed with her olive-green silk blouse, “do I look OK? I’m not sure if this lipstick is too severe. I’ve got that interview today and I really want it to go well.”
Ruby had recently moved to London from the small seaside village where she’d grown up. Although the village of Calder Harbour was picture-postcard beautiful, it relied heavily on tourist income and there weren’t that many opportunities for clinical psychologists.
Cate sat cross-legged in front of her laptop. “You’re going to smash it, Rubes.” “Ow,” she yelped as her fresh blister rubbed against the cotton sheets.
“Are you OK?” Ruby looked concerned.
“I’m fine,” Cate looked at the unsightly pink bulge on the side of her big toe, “it’s just a blister.”
Her stomach growled loudly but she was too exhausted to even think about ordering room service. She found a slightly brown banana at the bottom of her dance bag and unpeeled it.
“Enough about me,” Cate popped a piece of squashy banana into her mouth. “I want to see this fabulous new apartment of yours. Ben said that you can see Stamford Bridge from your window.”
“Ha,” Ruby grinned. “I guess you can if you stand on the toilet and hang halfway out of the bathroom window.” She turned her laptop around so Cate could see her bedroom. It was small but Ruby had already added her own personal touches. The walls were painted a soft lilac and on her bedside table was a beautiful chandelier lamp. On top of the white dresser, there were lots of little bottles of nail varnish - Cate and Ruby both shared a love of intricate nail art. The patchwork quilt that Kian’s aunt, Sadie had made for Ruby was draped over the wrought-iron bed frame.
Cate noticed that the framed photograph of her boyfriend, Nico wasn’t on Ruby’s bedside table but decided not to say anything. Nico had stayed behind in Calder Harbour where he owned a successful erotic bakery.
She knew first-hand how tough it was going to be for them, trying to maintain a long-distance relationship. When Kian had first moved to Seattle, she’d stayed behind in Manchester with their children, Lola and Mateo until the end of the school year and so their family had been separated for five months. At least Ruby and Nico were on the same continent.
“What are your flatmates like?” Cate settled in for a good gossip. She enjoyed living vicariously through her half-sister. Cate had never had flat-mates; she’d gone straight from living at her mum’s house to getting married and moving in with Kian.
“They’re cool,” Ruby smoothed out her slick ponytail. “I went out with Imogen, Becca and their boyfriends for pizza last night. It was fun.”
“What about…?” Ruby had found the flat-share through Emily, the girlfriend of Nico’s cousin, Levi. Unfortunately, Levi had unceremoniously dumped Emily a week before Ruby was due to move in. The duplex apartment had two bedrooms with a connecting shared bathroom on each floor. Imogen and Becca were on the first floor and Emily and Ruby were on the second floor. The nasty break-up had turned a blossoming friendship between the two women into a really awkward situation.
Ruby frowned. “I haven’t really hung out with Emily too much yet. I think she finds it too uncomfortable.”
Towards the end of the chat, Cate stifled a yawn. “Shoot,” Ruby said guiltily, “I’ve been yammering on for ages and it must be really late over there. You look tired.”
“Thanks a lot,” Cate pretended to be offended. She looked at the clock. She had to be up again at five am; she had an early flight back to Seattle. “I almost don’t want to go to sleep because I know I’m going to be so sore when I wake up again.”
“You’re going to be awesome, Cate,” Ruby laughed. “I’m like the best dancer ever and we’re so much alike we could be twins so that means you must be too.” They had the same biological father but different mums.
Ruby busted out some very questionable dance moves which made Cate giggle. “Stop,” Cate winced as Ruby hobbled about, having got her foot stuck in the wastepaper bin. She clutched her aching stomach muscles, “please don’t make me laugh.”
“Let me know how the interview goes, OK?” Cate reminded Ruby before they were about to hang up.
Ruby frowned.
“Stop biting your lip, you’ll get that gorgeous lipstick on your teeth. What time are you meeting Thom?”
Thom was one of Cate’s friends from university. He’d been working with Megan Wilson, one of the UK’s most high-profile forensic psychologists ever since he’d graduated. When Cate had been back in the U.K. a couple of months ago for their mutual friend, Vanessa’s wedding, she’d mentioned to Thom that her sister was moving to London and applying for research positions. He’d used his connections to get her the interview today. They were meeting at Starbucks before the interview so he could give Ruby some last-minute advice.
Ruby checked her watch, “in about half an hour. Yikes, I’ve still got so much to do.”
“You’re going to do great,” Cate yawned again. “They would be lucky to have you. Let me know how it goes, OK?”
“If I’m not too busy drowning my sorrows in tequila, I’ll e-mail you,” Ruby grinned. “Give those gorgeous kids of yours a big kiss from their Auntie Ruby when you get home.”
Cate closed down her laptop and put it on the floor at the side of the bed. She was too exhausted to even change out of her sweaty dance clothes. She reluctantly set the alarm on her phone and snuggled under the covers trying to get warm. The air conditioning was on high so the bed was freezing cold; her toes were almost numb.
“Mm,” she burrowed her head deep in the fluffy pillows. At least this time tomorrow, she’d be back in Seattle in her own comfy bed with Kian’s lovely warm body wrapped around hers.
CHAPTER 3
Cate snuck back into the house early the next morning. She’d got the first flight from L.A. back to Seattle. She unzipped her hooded sweatshirt a little and tugged it up over her head but the sharp teeth of the zipper snagged on her forehead.
“Ow,” she winced, reaching up to rub the skin on her forehead which felt tight and sore. She took a couple of steps forward and “umph!” Suddenly she was lurching forward with the ground coming up to meet her at an alarmingly fast speed.
“Cate?” Kian asked, bleary-eyed. He’d heard a noise and come downstairs to investigate only to find his wife sprawled face-down on the wooden floor by the front door. “Are you OK?” he asked.
“Peachy,” Cate scowled, lifting herself up on to her knees. When she turned around, she saw that she’d tripped over Kian’s most recent bag of fan mail. It must have been delivered while she was in L.A. and of course nobody had moved it from right by the front door down the hallway to his home office. She’d taken responsibility for answering his fan mail when they’d first got married; it had felt like something a good, little footballer’s wife should do.
Kian tried to suppress a smirk as he helped her up the rest of the way off the floor. “I thought you weren’t flying back until later. The children and I were going to meet you at the airport.”
“I missed you too much,” Cate said, giving the sack of fan mail a little ki
ck. Of course, there was something hard in there and she hurt her big toe as well.
Kian had a morning training session and then a meeting with his new agent, Jeff so he didn’t get home until later that evening.
After lunch, while her eldest daughter, Lola was playing football with their next-door neighbour, Luke and her two youngest children, Mats and Sierra were having their naps; Cate had sat at the kitchen table with their nanny, Nate to go over their schedules for the next few weeks while she was training for Stepping Out. After factoring in her commitments to her charity, 33 Rocks and pesky little things like eating and getting at least a couple of hours sleep every night, her diary was bursting at the seams.
Kian’s bag of fan mail had been taunting her all day from where she’d left it by the front door. She knew if she didn’t make a start on it tonight who knew when she’d get the chance again and she didn’t want his fans to have to wait too long for a reply from him.
Lola, who was definitely the front-runner for her favourite child that day, went to bed early with her book but Mateo and Sierra showed no signs at all of wanting to go to sleep so Cate figured she’d multi-task, grabbed the sack of fan mail and took it with them into the playroom.
When Kian came home, Mateo was happily playing with his toy boats and Sierra was wriggling about on the mat by Cate’s feet. “What happened to your forehead?” he asked, kissing the top of Cate’s head. She had a painful looking welt running down the centre.
“I got it caught in my zipper this morning,” she explained.
“What’s all this?” Kian looked at the piles of envelopes in front of her on the squashy, dark-green sofa.
“I thought I’d make a start on your mail,” Cate shrugged. She pointed to the first pile, “those are requests for autographs so if you could get me the stack of signed photos from your office, I can put them in the post tomorrow.” She gestured to the second pile, “those are charity and personal appearance requests for you to look through.”
“What are those?” Kian asked, gesturing to the third and final pile which was in danger of toppling over.
“Those,” Cate winced, “are the things your wife really doesn’t want to see.” Even though, unlike at the start of their marriage, everybody knew that Kian had a wife and children now, he still got sent lingerie and nude photos.
“Thanks for doing this, I really appreciate it, you know.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiled. She felt the sofa move a little and when she turned around, Sierra had knocked over the pile of “things your wife doesn’t really want to see.” One of the padded envelopes had opened and a hot-pink thong had fallen out. Sierra was just about to grab it; her eyes lit up when she saw anything pink.
“No,” Cate almost threw herself off the sofa, she was so determined to get the thong before her daughter could touch it. Hopefully it would be clean but with Kian’s crazy female fans, who knew?
Denied a potential new toy, Sierra’s little face crumpled. She was milliseconds away from having a tantrum. Mats looked across at them; his little eyebrows raised in concern.
Cate shoved the horrible thong back in the envelope and was about to reach for Sierra but Kian had beaten her to it. “Hey, what’s that pouty lip for, little one?” he cooed.
She made grabby hands at the sack where Cate was stuffing the envelopes back inside.
After the children had finally gone to sleep, Cate followed Kian into the bedroom. “I can’t believe Sierra nearly touched that thong,” she shivered. “She’s still got that habit of putting things in her mouth. Imagine if she’d… oh my goodness, I think I might be sick.”
“But she didn’t,” Kian smirked, “maybe we should keep those particular envelopes in my office under lock and key in future.”
“Still,” Cate pulled back the covers, “why would somebody do that? Do they really think that you’re going to look at the Victoria’s Secret thong and think wow, I can tell just from looking at this miniscule piece of hot-pink lace that the woman who sent this is actually the love of my life and I’m going to leave my wife and children for her. It’s a thong for goodness sake, it’s not Cinderella’s glass freaking slipper.”
“If it really bugs you so much,” Kian climbed into bed, “I’ll get one of Jeff’s assistants to handle them in future.”
“I like answering your fan mail, it’s just the panties and nude photos I could definitely do without. I guess I don’t get it. I can’t think of anybody I’d be obsessed with enough to actually send them my underwear. It’s just gross.”
Kian thought she’d finished her rant but she continued, “I really thought as twenty-first century women that we’d evolved beyond that but then I open up an envelope and another naked photo drops on my lap and it’s like the world is spinning in reverse. Why would you take a photo of yourself with no clothes on and send it to a complete stranger, like why would you even think that’s a sensible idea? They don’t know for certain that you open your own fan mail, anybody could see that photo. Is this what the world’s coming to now? Am I really going to have to explain this to Lola and Sierra?”
“That’s it,” Kian lifted up his arm so she could snuggle against him, “I’m revoking your fan mail answering privileges from now on.”
“Kian, I’m being serious,” Cate scowled.
“I know you are,” Kian said softly, “but I don’t have the answers any more than you do. I don’t know why random women send me their underwear or naked photos, I certainly don’t ask them to do it. When I do get them, I make sure the photos are shredded so they don’t fall into the wrong hands and I put the underwear in the trash. My guess is that they don’t want me per se, they want the idea of me, Kian Warner the professional footballer. They probably send panties and the same photos to countless other players; hoping one of them will be gullible or more likely horny enough to fall for it. They want to be famous, angel.”
CHAPTER 4
Cate paced back and forth in the corridor outside studio nine at Kevin Spyder’s gym in Seattle. Kevin was a friend of Kian’s. After he’d been forced to retire from kickboxing because of a back injury, he’d returned to his hometown of Seattle and opened up his own gym. He was kindly letting them use one of his studios for rehearsals for Stepping Out.
She hitched her heavy dance bag higher up on her shoulder and tried to pluck up the courage to open the door to the studio. Although she’d had a couple of days of rehearsals in L.A. for the group dance which would open the first episode, today she was going to meet her professional partner for the very first time. She didn’t know who it was going to be.
Please, please, please don’t let it be Vladimir.
Cate reached for the door handle but her damp palm slithered down the cool metal.
Ugh, stop being such a big baby. It’s just a TV show for goodness sake. You’re only going to be on it for like five minutes anyway.
She took a deep breath and pushed open the door and was immediately blinded by the bright lights of the camera which was thrust towards her.
“You must be Cate,” Cate recognised Declan’s lilting Irish accent and she tried really hard not to show how relieved she was that he wasn’t Vladimir.
She still had spots in front of her eyes from the bright lights and as she walked across the studio to put her heavy bag down by the CD player, she stumbled.
“Easy,” Declan caught her by the elbow. “Don’t worry; it won’t always be like this.” He was talking quietly enough that the camera crew couldn’t hear him.
“Thanks,” Cate laughed at how ridiculous it all was. She couldn’t even walk across the studio without nearly falling; she had no business being in a freaking dance competition.
After the camera crew had left, Cate felt like she could relax a little. It seemed like Declan felt the same way. “OK so…” he rubbed his hands together, “the dance we’ve got this week is the Cha Cha.”
“OK,” Cate gulped. So they were starting with a Latin dance instead of a ballroom.
“You’ve never danced before, have you?” Declan asked.
Cate shook her head, “not even at parties.”
“Perfect,” he jumped to his feet and reached for her hands. Cate thought she must have misheard him. He winked, “it means you won’t have picked up any bad habits.”
“I guess that’s one way of looking at it?”
The song they had been given was “Can’t Get You Out Of My Head” by Kylie Minogue.
Without music, Declan showed her the routine he’d choreographed. “Wow,” Cate gasped when he’d finished. She was in so much trouble. “You really want me to do all that?”
“That’s the general idea,” he laughed. “Come on, let’s give it a go.”
“Sorry,” Cate blushed furiously the first time she stood on Declan’s foot.
“Let’s try that again,” Declan shrugged. “Step back with your left foot.”
Even though she’d clearly heard his instructions, for some reason her right foot decided to step forward instead. “Ugh,” Cate stamped her foot on the smooth wooden floor. The sound echoed through the cavernous studio.
“You know,” Declan grinned, “dancing is supposed to be fun.”
He came up behind Cate and put his hands on her hips. “What are you doing?” she jumped.
“We’re going to try something different.” He began to move her hips. “Close your eyes.”
“No,” Cate spluttered. “We met like five minutes ago. I don’t know you.”
Declan turned her around to face him. He had the most beautiful emerald-green eyes. “I want to teach you how to dance, chara, but if I’m going to do that I need you to trust me.”
Cate realised that she didn’t have a choice. If she didn’t want to embarrass herself on national TV, she had to trust Declan. She turned her back to him and closed her eyes.