AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But, she reminded herself, unless Josh became more co-operative, the dance was not going to be performed.
Micki abandoned the mirror as the door opened and Josh and Sydni came in, talking a mile a minute about the complexities of the deal Benfield was immersed in. She drew a deep breath, buoyed by her anger and walked to them. She ripped Josh’s handheld from him and tossed it to Sydni.
“You, out,” she said to the assistant. “You won’t be sitting in on any more rehearsals so find something else to do with the time.” Wheeling to Josh, she added, “I need to talk to you about what we’re doing here.”
He seemed amused by her approach. Spreading his hands he surveyed the empty room and said, “I’m all yours.”
“Not here.” Micki didn’t want to be overheard or recorded today. She grabbed his hand and towed him from the room without saying anything else. After an initial moment of resistance, her partner followed silently, going past a still upset Sydni in the hall and heading to the gravlift. Micki had given it a lot of thought and decided where the best place to have this conversation would be—the beach deck. At this hour it wouldn’t be crowded and she could get the privacy she sought.
“Are we doing a water ballet next?” Josh quipped as he entered Level Five and stepped onto the sand.
“None of this is funny,” she said over her shoulder. She had a favorite area on the lush beach where she figured they wouldn’t be disturbed and after a couple of minutes of leisurely walking they arrived. There were chairs and towels laid out for the guests and Micki plunked herself down in the closest chair. Motioning to Josh to sit, she leaned forward and said, “Why are you doing the show?”
He blinked, seeming completely at ease. “My mother loves this program, watches it every season, and I wanted to do something special for her upcoming birthday.”
“Yeah I heard you tell them that in the emo package you recorded for the third episode. Nice.” Pausing for a beat, Micki said, “Bullshit. Why are you really here?”
Josh studied her, eyes narrowed. After a tense minute in which she feared he wasn’t going to answer, he said, “Kumisarc is our biggest corporate rival and my family felt we needed to know why Andrus Kumisarc was doing this odd competition. The ideal way to accomplish the task was to insert one of us into the roster. My brothers and I agreed I was the best fit.”
Micki sat and watched the simulated ocean waves roll in and the holographic birds run along the beach. “That explains a lot. I figured the motivation might be along those lines.”
“Why do you care? I’m here, we’re partners, let the competition continue,” Josh said.
Since his question led into where she wanted to take the conversation, Micki nodded. “Fair’s fair. I signed up because I’m nearing the end of a dancing life and through various poor choices, as well as circumstances, I’m not in a good position to retire. I have things I want to accomplish in the next phase of my life and I haven’t given myself the right foundation. This show gives me a chance for increased visibility and I was hoping to showcase my skills as a choreographer and a teacher.” She glanced at him and was pleased to find him listening attentively.
“Being a Comette would qualify as a major accomplishment for most people,” he said.
“I’ll always be grateful for my time as a Comette and I don’t mean to diminish the job’s importance to me but no one remains an active Comette forever.” Giving him a smile, she added, “Dancing is hard, especially if done right. Let me ask you a question and I’m hoping for an honest answer. Was being a loser last week an acceptable outcome for you?”
He parried. “We didn’t go home, if you’ll recall.”
Rolling her eyes, Micki rebutted his remark. “If you’re standing in the elimination circle at the end of the show, you’re a loser, trust me. I mean, I don’t understand your attitude, or I didn’t until today. You’re a cutthroat businessman, you played tisba at an interstellar level when you were in college—I know you made the All Sectors Team all four years, which is unprecedented, so where the seven hells is your competitive spark now? Don’t you want to win this thing? We could do it, I know we could but not if you don’t kick yourself in the rear and get motivated by more than speculating what Kumisarc is up to. Which from what I hear backstage is he’s sick of the business world and wants to become a bigtime influencer so a win here would boost his chances. He’s adding followers by the millions across the Sectors.” She gave him a stern look. “Benfield is probably losing them after our last performance. After the Carovintonns, who are fictional, in the biggest rated soap opera, Kumisarc is probably the most well-known generational billionaire family.”
“We don’t care about those metrics.” Josh’s voice was quiet. “The business world doesn’t run on ratings.”
“But you want to be winners, I bet.” Micki leaned forward. “I dreamt a killer routine last night for our next segment but it’ll take hard work and a lot more time than you’ve been willing to invest. So if you aren’t going to be all in, an equal partner, I’m going to walk away, figuratively speaking. I’ll teach you the basic steps, we’ll go out there and get lambasted by the judges again and we’ll be going home. I’ll chalk this up to another bad decision on my part and you can get off the ship and dive into your business deals with a sigh of relief. Personally, I’d rather be a winner.”
“You dream up dances?”
“I dream a lot of things,” she said, uncomfortable to let him too close to her personal secrets. “But yes, my choreography is heavily influenced by my dreams. I’ve created a couple of short dances for Tassia—surely you’ve heard of her? The lead dancer for the Comettes? Our director accepted my dances into the program partly because Tassia insisted but they’ve become some of our most popular routines. I can do this, Josh. I want to do this, but only if you’re willing to meet me halfway.”
“And why is Sydni being banned from rehearsals?”
“She distracts you. When she comes into your field of vision or she gets a new message or talks to you during a break about the latest deal, you lose your focus. You have to set the damn business aside. You’ve got brothers—let them cope for the remaining six weeks. Benfield won’t collapse, I can pretty much guarantee it.” Micki couldn’t tell if she was winning her case or not. Josh had an excellent poker face.
“Pitch me our next dance,” was his unexpected request. “Sell me on how it’s going to be a winning concept.”
She got to her feet because she couldn’t talk dance properly seated in a chair. “We’re assigned a folk dance, right? So in my dream I saw the opening clearly, including the set. You’re a bored prince, watching a trio of dancers, one of whom will be me. We’re allowed to use the backup dancers to a limited extent. I know you’re paying attention and I widen the dance out, add my own moves, but within the spirit of the tradition—” Micki broke off and demonstrated the plain folk dance right there on the beach after kicking her shoes off. She then showed him the added choreo she was planning and was satisfied to see how intently he watched her, even dressed in her boring workout clothes. “You summon me to the throne, I pull you out of the chair and we’re off, dancing my more complicated routine…” Humming the tune, she took his hand and tugged him to his feet. Of course he hadn’t learned the dance yet but she showed him the first few moves, which she’d made sensual and they were locked in a hold staring at each other. Micki was the first to retreat, lowering her eyes and stepping away. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in the sheer physicality of this man. Dancing, she was dancing with him and nothing more.
Josh rubbed his chin and repeated the steps as best he could on his own. “How much additional rehearsal time do you want from me?”
Hiding her excitement over the indication he might agree, Micki shrugged. “As much as it takes. Probably double. After all, this whole show is supposed to be featuring the celebrity, not the professional dancer. And then I’ll have equally complex stuff for the rest of the challenges. My muse feeds on each success and tries to top herself.” Blushing because a nondancer might not understand the way she thought of her own creativity, she fell silent.
Josh held out his hand. “You’ve got a deal, Ms. Allwell. But I’m warning you, I expect to be taking home the ISD trophy for my office at the end of this.”
She shook enthusiastically. “No guarantees but for sure our chances will be much better if you focus on the effort.”
“I’ll tell my brothers what I’m doing and offload a few assignments. I’ll reinforce the revised situation to Sydni. I’ll try to keep the distractions to a minimum.”
