Her favorite song was playing, but the words were barely registering. All Dinah could think was, ‘slow…quick, quick; slow…quick, quick’, mouthing the words as he whispered them in time to the beat. God, if he didn’t have the most beautiful mouth. Not pouty and feminine. His lips were the perfect kind of full that a girl couldn’t help but want to kiss.
                I could kiss them, she thought dreamily. I could just lean in and…

“No!” Wide-eyed and panic stricken, Dinah collided full force into his chest. The purple silk tie he wore had long since been discarded. The first two buttons of his charcoal gray dress shirt were undone, perfectly offsetting a tan and sculpted chest. She tore her gaze from his lips up to his stony glare. His eyes looked darker than usual. She shook her head slightly to refocus her attention.

 “I’m sorry! I forgot what I was doing I guess.” She collapsed her arms by her side, getting out of frame. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed to the ceiling.

“Maybe if you were actually paying attention and counting you’d have a better time of remembering. Otherwise, you’re just wasting my time and your money.” His back was to her, and quickly retreating. “If you want to be ready for St. Louis you’ll to pull your head out of, wherever it is, and get this.”

 That was one of the many reasons Dinah couldn’t stand having Oliver as a teacher. No, that was too polite. With every fiber of her being she hated that man with the fire of a million suns. He was cocky, pretentious, domineering and beautiful. Just like Bryan, she thought. In fact, if she closed her eyes Dinah could swear she was back in his apartment listening to Bryan carry on about how beneath him she was. But she wasn’t one for confrontation. She sat quietly and took it just as she did every other insult. And then, to what should have been her relief, he sent her an email at work telling her he was done. Just like that.

Enough was enough. Dinah packed up the old hoodie he’d given her and every picture, card, gift, and movie ticket stub in a box and left on his doorstep. If she had any hope of leaving Bryan behind, she had to remove every trace of him from her life. Unfortunately, he’d required most if not all of her time and attention. Her life was now empty. That was the reason why Dinah was downtown at 8:30 at night in a dance studio being berated for her absent-mindedness.

 “Maybe it’s just been a long week,” she offered weakly. That wasn’t an excuse. Monday had set the tone for the week from hell, and now that it was Friday she was completely done in. “My mind just wondered off on its own.” Where it wondered to he didn’t need to know.

 “It’s just as well. We’re done for tonight. You might think about coming to Saturday morning conditioning though. You’ve got no stamina whatsoever. I need you to at least keep up with me for one whole song.”

 “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.” He’d only been half listening before. Now, she was all but forgotten. Dinah walked gingerly over to the ratty old couch along the mirrored wall so she could trade one pair of heels for another, taking care not to look at her reflection. His next lesson, a model turned housewife, would be there soon and she needed to leave before that happened. Not that she wasn’t attractive. In fact, Dinah had been told she had the body of a 1950s pinup girl. But in her mind, she had let herself go. His offhanded comment  reminded her of this. Her pride couldn’t stand another pot shot, and that’s just what would happen if she were there when Meredith waltzed in.

 “No pun intended,” she muttered.

 “¿Qué pasa querida?” Dinah looked up from the buckle her fingers were busy trying to undo to see the studio owner, Yelena, above her. She cringed when she saw Meredith across the room looking like perfection personified.

 “Nothing, Yelena. I was  thinking out loud.”

 “Alright then. You know these ears don‘t work the way they use to. I have to check every once in a while to make sure I‘m not missing something important.” The older woman sat down next to Dinah, her eyes following the younger woman’s gaze to the lithe and graceful bottle-blond. “You’ve gotten much better with your dancing. But you need more passion, more desire.”

 “I’m not feeling particularly passionate right now Lena. I’m too tired.”

 “Impossible. You’re never too tired for passion.” Yelena wagged her eyebrows and smiled slightly.

 “Lena!” That was not anything Dinah needed to hear. How depressing was her life that a sixty-five year old woman was getting more action than she was?

 “I only speak the truth. You should listen to me. Get passionate and your dancing will come alive.”

 “I don’t think that’s going to happen with him as my teacher.” Dinah threw her chin in the direction of the couple on the dance floor. It was positively nauseating how wonderfully they moved across the floor.

 “Oh pooh! You don’t need him. Any man would do, really.”

 “And on that note, I’m leaving. See you…”

 “On Saturday”, Oliver called out finishing the sentence for her.

“Right. See you on Saturday.” Just like Bryan.

***

“Di, I don’t know why you let him bully you like that. I mean, aren’t you paying him? Just tell him to ‘go to hell’ and be done with it.” That was Willa’s answer to everything - send people and things to Hell. The washer that shrunk her cashmere sweater, the manhole cover that broke the heel of her $300.00 shoe, and the taxi driver who got lost taking a short cut had all been sent there. The Devil had his hands full thanks to Willa.

 “You know I can’t say that. Besides, he’s right. There’s no point in me paying all this money if I’m not going to take it seriously.”

 “Why are you doing this anyway? You left Bryan ages ago and you’ve been just fine without him. You should give up on the ballroom drill sergeant and find a guy you can have some fun with.” Willa scanned the restaurant over Dinah’s shoulder. “Where is that chick? I asked for a refill forever ago.” To illustrate her point, Willa dramatically slurped up the last few drops in her glass through her straw.

 “You sent her to Hell remember?” Dinah smiled back at her best friend’s scowling face. “And you seem to forget that Bryan left me, not the other way around. It’s only been four months. I don’t want to ‘have some fun’ with some random guy. And I’m not doing this because I have the hots for teacher.”

 “Uh huh. Tell me anything.”

 “I don’t! You know I’ve always wanted to dance. After Bryan, I figured why not. I know how bad Oliver is. But I’m stuck with him because he’s the only male teacher at the studio right now.” That was an absolute lie. There was nothing keeping her from continuing her lessons with one of the female instructors. They were nice girls, all of them, and talented to boot. The thought, however, of getting into close hold with one of them didn’t have the same allure as with Oliver.

 “You told me how bad Bryan was, too. You even offered up the same lame-ass excuse when I told you to leave him when he first started showing his ass. ‘We’ve been together this long…I can’t just leave him now,’” Willa mocked. “I love you to death, but you want him because he’s Bryan all over again.”

 She knew Willa was right. She had  told Dinah of the doubts she had about Bryan only a few days before they’d decided to be exclusive. Well, she’d always been exclusive. He was the one that still had to make that final step into a committed relationship. Which, it turned out, he never did really do.

“I’m letting you know now, I will say ‘ I told you so’ if he winds up breaking your heart too..” By that time the waitress had come back to their table with Willa’s refill and the check for the meal. Willa forced a smile in thanks. The waitress returned it with an ‘eat shit and die’ stare before moping over to a table of rowdy college students.

Dinah let out an exasperated sigh. “Alright, I won’t go there. But I’m not looking for a new teacher either.”

“Hey.” The waitress had returned, none too happy. “Those guys sent you this,” she stated, dropping a basket of chili cheese fries on the table. Then she was gone again, off to ruin some other customer’s dining experience.

 “Ugh. You can have them. According to him, I need to improve my stamina. That,” Dinah nudged the grease-laden gift, “is the last thing I need. It’s bad enough I have to go in tomorrow morning for conditioning. Don’t say a word.”

 Willa threw her hands up, feigning innocence. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the slave driver, though you could blow off Saturday for some ‘conditioning’ tonight.” She pushed away from the table, already setting her sights on the guys who sent over the fries.

 “First, eww. You don’t know anything about those guys. They could be rapists!” Willa rolled her eyes at Dinah and began moving toward the men. Dinah caught her wrist, pulled Willa down to her, continuing, “And second, I’m doing just fine in the ‘conditioning’ department, thank you very much!”

 “So the last time you got some was when exactly?” Her friend straightened, crossed her arms and waited for an answer.

 “Unlike you, I don’t need to get some every other night.” Dinah thought of his lips, and felt the heat rising up from her chest, around her neck and ears, and prayed the lights were dim enough to hide what little crimson would show on her rich chocolate skin.

“Whatever Miss Lady. I hear what you’re saying, but I know you’re just like the rest of us. You’re simply too repressed to see it.”

“I’m not…repressed.” She finished her sentence to no one at all. That’s the second time tonight, she thought gloomily. What was it about her that people thought they could just walk away while she was talking?

She looked down at her watch. Eleven o’clock. Dinah’s eyes searched out Willa and found her sitting at the bar laughing at something the bartender was saying. The college boys from earlier were long gone. She’d be fine. Knowing Willa, she’d go home to her two cats and forget all about these guys. She had one type, independent and financially sound. She didn’t want to be any man’s mother or ATM. There was no compromising on either one. Those men didn’t know it, but they didn’t have a prayer when it came to Willa Masterson. They had the wrong hair, the wrong clothes, and the wrong shoes. Dinah even bet they had the wrong underwear. All of those things, according to Willa, would tell you what you needed to know about a man in an instant. Fortunately for her, she had Willa to point these things out, because she’d always failed to see them on her own. Unfortunately, she hadn’t found someone who could measure up-not to Willa’s high standards, or her romantic dreams.

Dinah caught Willa’s eye and indicated that she paid the check, then made for the door. If she hurried, she could get back uptown to her apartment before the trains started to fill with clubbers and party-goers. She always got more than a little nervous going home at such a late hour. Had it not been two weeks since the last time they’d gotten together, Dinah would have canceled her plans with Willa. After six years in the city, she was still uncomfortable traveling alone late at night. ‘Nothing good happens after 2AM,’ her mother always told her. She’d changed that to midnight the week after she’d moved. And she now had little better than half an hour to make it home before ‘curfew’. Hitching her purse higher up on her shoulder, Dinah made her way out of the pub and into the night.

***

“Get back into frame Meredith.” It took all that he had to keep Oliver from pushing his partner off of him. He was tired, his body ached, and he was hungry. The last thing he felt like dealing with was a forty-something ex-model living in denial of her long gone youth.

“But I thought this was close hold. What’s the harm in getting as close as possible?” Meredith batted her eyelashes and pouted her collagen filled lips. She’d started taking the dance lessons as a way to spend even more time with her one night stand. The luster and excitement of being married to a high-fashion model had worn off for her husband. As a result, their sex life was all but nonexistent. Well, he was having sex, just not with her. Meredith figured what was good for the gander would certainly do for the goose. Her sights were set on Oliver.

“Why don’t we just call it a night, OK?” Oliver broke free and made for the sound system. “We can pick this up next week. I should have your music by then.”

“How about Saturday? I can be here for the conditioning class. We can work after that?”

He could hear Yelena click her tongue from across the room. Oliver shot her a look that, if she cared, would have silenced her in an instant. Walking back over to Meredith, he put on his most charming of smiles and crouched to help her change her shoes.

“How about I give you an hour and a half on Monday. I’ll have your music by then for sure, and we’ll do all the dances you have planned for St. Louis.” Oliver grazed his finger along her ankle and calf for good measure.

“That,” Meredith sighed, “would be perfect.”

“Alrighty then. Take care.” Oliver sprang to his feet and sauntered over to the counter. He missed the shocked look Meredith had on her face just then, but he definitely caught the lust in her eyes moments earlier. She scrambled to catch up to him.

“Oh, OK then. Well, I look forward to Monday. Same time as always?”

“Uh. Sure. That’ll work.” With that, Oliver left for the back room to change.

“You need to pay your tuition for next week.” Meredith reluctantly puller her gaze from her instructors sculpted backside only to meet the cold stare and outstretched hand of the tiny studio owner.

“I’ll pay on Monday, just as I always do,” Spencer replied in a huff. She shouldered her designer purse and stormed out the door and into the night.

Oliver heard the clicking of heels and then the studio door slam shut. Sighing, he shrugged on his suit jacket and slammed his locker. Passing the tiny mirror the girls used to check their makeup, he could see just how drawn and tired his features looked. Shoulders slumped and head bowed, Oliver walked out of the locker room and back into the now dimly lit studio. Bossa Nova music was softly wafting through the air.

‘She would be amazing dancing to this.’ The thought shot like a bolt through his brain before Oliver could stop it. But why? There was nothing particularly special about Dinah; she was just another lonely, desperate woman he could use if he saw fit - just a bargain version of Meredith.

The girl could dance, though. She was better than any of his other amateur students, almost good enough to go professional if she worked hard enough.

“¿Mi amor? Uno momento, tengo una sorpresa para ti,” cooed Yelena as she emerged from her back office. “Oh, Oliver, I thought you were my Harold. All is closed up for the night, si?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Oliver eyed his boss with poorly hidden amusement. She had changed from the usual brightly colored V-necked dress to a fitted black one with sheer sleeves and satin cuffs. Her more silver than black hair was loosed from its bun and fell in soft curls around her shoulders. Fishnet stockings and black dancing heels finished the ensemble.

‘Poor Harold,’ Oliver thought with a smile and slight shake of the head. Lena may have been aging, but she certainly was not old; a fact she had pointed out on more than one occasion. The balding, pudgy accountant didn’t have a chance when it came to Lena’s soothing yet seductive nature.

“I take it you have plans for the evening, so I’ll just duck out now instead of setting up for tomorrow.” Oliver didn’t want to be around to see Yelena and Harold grinning and giggling at each other if he could help it. It was like watching his parents being romantic - odd and unsettling.

“Okay mijo. Go do something fun, please. I swear, you’re older than I am.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Goodnight.” With that, Oliver slipped behind the studio door and made his way down the stairs passing Harold who was on his way up, whistling ‘The Girl from Ipanema’.

‘Better him, than me.’

***

 “Come on, Twinkle-Toes, we ain’t playing marbles here.”

“No,” Oliver lazily shifted his gaze from the pool table to Mac, his best friend, and back. “But they are similar. Only with this game, I take your money.” And with that, his stick squarely smacked the cue ball which banked off the sides of the table and gently tapped the eight-ball into the corner pocket. Game, set, match.

“See? And no I.O.U’s either.”

“Whatever, man. You’re just lucky is all.” Mac wasn’t a sore loser, he just hated proving Oliver right. “How’s about you let me win it back?”

“I have class in the morning. As tempting as it is, helping you clean out your bank account, I need to call it a night.”

“Oh, I see. So who is it? Please tell me you are not blowing me off for that Meredith chick? Dude, I could have told you that broad would get clingy and needy. Women like her don’t…”

“No.” Oliver knew he was being short-tempered with his friend, but even the mention of Meredith’s name made him tense and exhausted. He huffed, hoping it came out sounding more like a sigh.

“No, it isn’t her. And, it’s called being responsible. I have to get those people ready for that exhibition thing in St. Louis. Not to mention bills to pay.”

“Uh-huh.” Mac’s attention veered from his friend to the redheaded bartender he’d been trying to talk to for weeks. Feeling himself being watched, and not by her, Mac jerked his head back in Oliver’s direction. There was nothing but a restless, weary man in front of him.

“Look, we’ll find a few choice ladies to entertain us, have a couple more drinks, enjoy ourselves. Trust me when I say, you need to enjoy yourself.”

“Right now I’d rather enjoy my bed - without some stranger in it. Besides, watching you get smashed by the Ice Queen yet again is not my idea of fun. Though, it is funny.”

“I’d say, ‘screw you,’ but I think I’ll leave that to someone a bit more qualified.” Mac clapped his friend on the back as he passed sauntering across the room to the bar.

Oliver climbed off of the stool were he’d been perched. For the second time that night he was escaping to avoid playing witness to someone else’s intimate moments. Not that he wasn’t able to find company for the evening. The reaction he got from women as Oliver wove through the crowded bar was evidence of that. He was bored. With what, he wasn’t sure. Trying to think about it anymore, or at all, was not on his list of things to do. All Oliver wanted was to get to his apartment which, blessedly, was only three blocks away.

***

“And tuck your chin once more, rounding out your back. Remember to pull your bellybutton through to your spin, tucking your hips and tightening those buns.”

There is no way anyone should be that chipper this damn early, thought Dinah. She was struggling to keep everything tucked, rounded, pulled, and tight - too many motions at once. Whose idea was this?

“And open it back up. Throw back your shoulders, raising your chin to the sky. Release your ribcage and allow all of that pent up tension to escape.”

Dinah did all that she could not to release her softening tummy and throw her hips out of joint. Yoga was fine, and she had nothing against it. Yoga by force at eight o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, led by a petite brunette in spandex was cruel and unusual.

And it’s entirely his fault, Dinah scowled once she caught sight of Oliver. He had the nerve to stand and watch as overseer, monitoring and no doubt judging her every move.

“One last time, ladies. Tuck your chin and round your back..” With a huff Dinah redirected her focus to the tiny taskmaster and tried to ignore the fact that her backside was in plain view of her instructor, or that a small part of her hoped that view was being enjoyed.

“If I had known this was the reason you were blowing me off, I’d have turned in early myself.” Mac was leaning on the counter leering at the sight laid out in front of him.

“Hmmm.” Oliver checked the clock. Mac’s random visits were no longer a surprise. Being at the studio bright and early on a Saturday morning, however, was unexpected.

“Lots of variety, a choice selection. Especially that one, in the yellow and gray.” He cut his eye at Oliver, his interest piqued when he noticed his friend stiffen at the statement.

“I mean, she looks a little soft, but I’m not one to complain about curves. You know?”

“No, I wouldn’t know. Is there a good reason you’re here, or did you just need to satisfy your pervy tendencies?” Oliver knew he was being baited by his friend. He chalked up his annoyance to the fact that he was trying to be professional and respectful of his students. They were paying to learn, after all, not be leered at. ‘But he was only talking about her,’ a little voice reminded him. Damnit.

“Yep. Here you are my good man.” Mac handed over a large cup of coffee. Oliver raised an eyebrow in question.

“I finally got the Ice Queen to melt. Figured I’d swing by on my way back home.”
“Ah,” was all Oliver said in reply. What Mac really meant, and Oliver already knew, was that the redhead went from Ice Queen to heat-seeking missile and Mac needed to throw her off his trail.

“Well if you’re going to be here for a while stay out of the way, and away from Yelena.” Oliver chuckled and walked away. The conditioning class was over and his lesson with Dinah was to follow.