Chapter Three
Toby
An enormous grin spread across my face as I opened my emails to reread the details Malcolm had forwarded me from the producer of Come Dancing With Me as the private car I’d hired for the next few weeks wound through the London streets towards the address I’d been given for the promotional shoot and costume fitting.
The driver, Mo, was singing along to every song that came on the nineties hits radio station he was listening to, tapping quietly on the steering wheel like he was drumming.
The first day he’d turned up last week, when I’d gone to inspect the dance studio I’d hired, he’d driven in silence, sitting bolt upright, and it had been bloody stifling.
I’d begged him to relax and put the radio on, and I was glad he’d agreed.
Being driven around in silent cars with poker-faced drivers made me think of the times we’d been summoned to see our label executives in LA, and it made me shudder just thinking about it. After that period of my life had ended, I’d been determined to make all my journeys fun.
My stomach squirmed from excitement as I read through the email for the umpteenth time because it still didn’t feel real, especially not the bit about my partner.
We are delighted to tell you that you have been paired with Nico Hamilton, whose talent and experience will undoubtedly make your experience on this year’s Come Dancing With Me Christmas Special sparkle.
You will be able to meet Nico on 21st October at our Christmas promotional shoot, where you will also have your first costume fitting. Please see all the details below.
I was desperately excited to see what sort of costume I’d be wearing, and I’d spent weeks poring over previous Christmas shows on YouTube to get some ideas of what it could be.
They’d refused to give me more than a hint when I’d gone to have my measurements taken in September, but I did suspect there might be a waistcoat or jacket involved.
“Mo,” I asked, leaning slightly forward in my seat. “Have you ever watched Come Dancing With Me?”
“Yeah, man, my wife loves that show! My kids too. My youngest daughter’s obsessed. We actually just put her in dance classes because of it. Hopefully, it’ll stop her trying to use the poor cat as her dance partner.”
“I love that,” I said. “Does she have a favourite?”
“Of this year’s contestants? Or the dancers?”
“Both? I’m assuming the answer is different.”
“Yeah. They both really love Nico but hated his partner. Seemed like he got a really rough deal,” Mo said with a sympathetic kiss of his teeth. “But they love Janusz, Pietro, and Tina. My son loves that guy who’s on Gladiators too.”
“Oh, er, Flame? Is that him?” I hadn’t seen any of the newer Gladiators, but I remembered watching reruns of the nineties version while on tour with Underground Dreaming.
I couldn’t even remember where we’d found it to stream, probably YouTube, but it had become something we’d watched regularly in the tour bus, the five of us sprawled out together and cheering like kids.
We’d tried reenacting some of the games with pillows, but our security had swiftly put an end to that. Spoilsports.
Mo and I kept chatting about Gladiators and Come Dancing With Me until we reached the address I’d been given, which would have looked like a very nice, completely inconspicuous building had it not been for the enormous security guard standing outside the door.
Oh dear, I hoped that wasn’t because of me.
It sounded ridiculous, but sometimes I forgot how much being a part of Underground Dreaming had isolated me from the rest of the world. And even though we’d been split up for four years, I was never going to be able to step outside of the bubble it had put me in.
That sort of fame didn’t just go away overnight.
I sighed, plastered on a smile, and climbed out of the car, telling Mo I’d let him know when I was ready to be picked up.
The guard didn’t return my smile as I walked towards him, but that didn’t surprise me.
Half of the security guards I’d met seemed to lack the ability to do more than scowl, grimace, or growl.
“Hello,” I said, determined to be charming. “I’m Toby Darling. I’m here for my fitting and the promo shoot.”
The guard grunted and opened the door. “On your left.”
“Thank you.”
Stepping inside was like entering a different world.
There was an instant rush of noise and music, people laughing as they moved from room to room and heeled shoes clacking on the wooden floor, which seemed to be covered in glitter.
I stepped back as someone appeared from the doorway on my right, wheeling a rack of sparkling clothes.
It reminded me a little of modelling shoots I’d done before, and I relaxed because the environment was a familiar one.
Turning to the left, I stepped into another busy room where two older women were fitting a suit to a man whose face was vaguely familiar.
I thought he might have been a TV presenter.
I recognised the women from when I’d had my measurements taken, although I wasn’t sure I could remember their names, which made me feel terrible.
One of the women looked up and noticed me, shooting me a wide smile. I thought her name might be Eileen, but I could have been wildly off base.
“Toby, yes? Give me two minutes and we’ll be with you,” she said. Her head swivelled as she looked past me and I followed her gaze, spotting a runner with a radio coming down the stairs. “Millie, I’ve got Toby here. And Daniel is all done, so he’s ready for whatever’s up next.”
“Perfect,” Millie said. The way she was trying not to stare at me meant she knew exactly who I was and was attempting not to freak out.
It was an expression I was intimately familiar with.
“I’ll let them know you’re here. Can I get you a drink?
Tea? Coffee? Water? We have refreshments laid out upstairs too. ”
“No refreshments in here,” said the seamstress sharply. “I’m not having anyone spilling coffee on the costumes. We’ve got enough to do without remaking anything.”
“Come on now, Eileen. We all know you can do anything,” said another voice from behind Millie. One that made my breath catch because it was a voice I’d been dreaming about hearing.
Nico Hamilton stepped into the room, looking so bloody sexy my eyes nearly popped out of my head.
He was wearing dark jeans that hugged his thighs, black leather boots that looked comfortably worn, and a black T-shirt under a faded denim jacket, a disarmingly charming smile on his plush lips.
His blond hair was gorgeously tousled, like he’d just gotten out of bed.
Was that what his hair would look like after he’d fucked?
No! Absolutely not, I thought abruptly. I was not here to find a man or to cause a scandal. I was here to dance.
Besides, I wasn’t even out, and I wasn’t going to make everyone’s life more difficult by dropping that without warning.
Malcolm and I had already prepared a statement to go out about me having a male partner, keeping the focus on the fact Nico was apparently stepping in for another dancer, Tina, who was expecting a baby.
It was very much that I was excited for Tina, grateful to Nico, and ready to get started on my dance journey.
I wasn’t going into details about my personal life, which I’d always been coy about. Firstly, because I was a coward, and secondly, because it wasn’t anyone else’s business.
My pansexuality had been a more recent discovery, one I’d only begun to let myself explore in the past four or five years, when I’d finally been free from the confines of the record label.
But I’d never really told anyone beyond my closest friends, because I’d seen the hoops Kane had been forced to jump through when he’d wanted to come out.
And even though my sexuality now had no bearing on my work, I still hadn’t really told anyone. Partly because there was nothing to say—it wasn’t like I had a partner I wanted to introduce to everyone, and I really didn’t think the world needed to know.
They owned enough of me already, and if I could keep hold of this part of my life for as long as possible, then I would.
Heck, there were people out there who never shared details about their other half or their sexuality.
Maybe I’d be one of them. After all, nobody had known what Dolly Parton’s husband looked like until he’d passed away and she’d posted one photo of them from their youth.
Did I really owe my fans every piece of me?
Or could I keep parts for myself? Especially since my boy band days were over.
“More flattery, Nico?” Eileen asked with a wry look as she and her co-worker collected up the parts of the suit they’d been fitting, releasing Daniel to Millie for whatever the next step in the process was. I assumed hair and make-up for the promo shoot.
“Of course. It works, doesn’t it?” Nico winked before glancing at me, his expression cooling. “You must be my partner?”
“Yes,” I said, stepping closer, unsure if I should go in for a hug or a handshake. On the reveal videos they did for the main series, there were always hugs and smiles and excited screams, but that definitely wasn’t the case here. I ended up holding out my hand awkwardly as I added, “I’m Toby.”
“Nico.” He took my hand and shook it briefly, but that was enough for me. His grip was warm and firm, and my brain casually reminded me those hands were going to be holding mine with increasing regularity.
In a ballroom hold. Obviously.
Not for any other reason.
Given the way he was looking at me, it really would only be in hold—with one hand on my back and the other hand in mine. And even then I doubted it would be unless he had to.
No, Nico was a professional. He was going to do whatever he needed to teach me, and I was going to be a model student. After all, I’d begged and pleaded to be on the show, so I had to do a good job. Otherwise, Malcolm was never going to let me pick my own projects again.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering him the most winning smile I had in my armoury. “I’m very excited for this.”
“Yeah. It should be fun.”
“I don’t have a lot of formal dance training, but I’ve done choreographed routines before. For music videos and when we were on tour.”
He nodded. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
For God’s sake, it was like talking to a brick wall. A frosty one. I really didn’t want to think he was an arsehole, but if the shoe fitted…
“Let me know what days work for you for training,” I said as I tried to find something we could talk about. “I think my agent sent some things across, but I have a lot more free time than he’s probably said. And I’ve hired us a private studio too, so I can give you the address.”
“Great, thanks. We’ll do Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday—Wednesday and Friday I have show commitments. We don’t need to do seven-hour days either, so I’d suggest something like ten until two or three, or one until four.”
“Ten until three works. If we don’t need the extra hour, that’s fine, but I’d rather have more time than less if that works for you?”
“Good, we’ll start on the second. That gives us about four and a half weeks until the taping.
” He sized me up, eyes roaming critically across my body in a way that suggested he was cataloguing all my faults.
I subtly tried to stand a little straighter.
Nico hummed under his breath. “That should be enough time to whip you into shape.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Depends. If you take it seriously, you’ll be fine. I recommend getting some Epsom salts for a bath and some good blister plasters.”
“Will do,” I said, suddenly wondering what on earth he was about to put me through. Perhaps I should have started going to the gym over the summer instead of spending all my spare time lounging around in my garden drinking rosé and reading books.
“Good,” he said, offering me a smile for the first time since he’d arrived.
It was polite but I’d take that.
For some reason, Nico seemed to be holding out on me but I was determined to change that. I would prove to him that not only was I a fabulous student, I was a wonderful dancer and charming person too. Someone who he’d definitely want to be friends with at the end.
Now all I had to do was work out how to get through that icy exterior of his.
Without resorting to a blowtorch.