17. It’s Clearly Fate
IT’S CLEARLY FATE
TARA
After Aiden dropped the bombshell about Singapore, I’ve been at war with my emotions.
On the one hand, it’s exciting to finally feel like my career is going somewhere.
On the other hand, I’m pretty sure it was all Aiden’s idea.
I doubt David sees it as anything more than me attending to help his son seem like he has any idea of what he’s doing.
While I’ve tried to keep myself from resenting Aiden, it’s hard when I’m still basically doing the workload of a broker while being paid as an assistant. I’ve worked out that there is more to Aiden’s story than just a case of nepotism, but that doesn’t really make me feel any better.
But tonight I’m determined not to think about work.
The time has come for my first salsa lesson on my own, and if possible, I’m even more nervous than I was before that lacklustre date on Sunday night.
I’ve changed my outfit so many times, not really sure what to wear and hating my reflection.
I’d signed up on a whim, determined to push myself out of my comfort zone (and off my couch), but now that the day has arrived, I’m filled with my usual self doubt.
When Kylie and I had gone to those few classes together, I’d been relatively okay.
Clearly a beginner, but I had rhythm and was able to follow along with the basic steps.
But that was with my best friend at my side, which made it easier to laugh off any mistakes, and not take myself so seriously.
Now though… I’m ready to talk myself out of this.
But I decide to channel my inner Kylie and point at myself in the mirror. “No one is going to be looking at you. This is not serious. You are going to have fun and hopefully meet some new people. You are not allowed to spend the night on the couch.”
Toulouse enters the bedroom, his little blue eyes meeting mine in the mirror while I give myself a much needed pep-talk. He meows, his tiny little kitten voice tugging at my maternal heartstrings, and I turn to scoop him up in my arms.
“You think I should stop being such chicken, don’t you? There’s only room for one fraidy-cat in this apartment, isn’t there?”
He snuggles into my neck for a brief moment before wriggling, demanding to be let down.
Unfortunately, he has already started to show signs that he’s not a fan of cuddles.
I find one of his little balls and toss it for him, and he scampers after it, running out of the room again.
I smile when I hear him banging around in the lounge room before reappearing at the door with the ball in his mouth.
It appears I have a dog-cat who likes to play fetch.
He drops it and meows at me again, and I give in, throwing it for him on my way out of my bedroom. I’ve settled on jeans and a V-neck shirt, figuring I might as well go with comfort over style. I just won’t look in the mirror at the dance studio if they have one .
I arrive twenty minutes early at the little hall in Bulimba and consider hiding in my car til the last possible minute, but force myself to go inside. I greet the pretty blonde woman at the door with a nervous smile, and she marks my name off on her iPad.
“Welcome, Tara. Go on in. We’ll have the women on the right side of the hall, and the men on the left to start, so find yourself a spot where you’ll be able to see the instructors in the middle.”
I nod and follow her instructions, moving to the right side of the room and putting my handbag on one of the chairs lining the wall.
Not knowing what else to do, I take a seat and look around at the few others that arrived before me.
A few women mill around in the corner, chatting, and I wonder if they already knew each other, or are just better at socialising with strangers than I am.
While I’m considering if I should go and introduce myself, a petite woman sits down beside me. Looking like she’s in her early fifties with a silver-grey pixie cut, she is dressed casually in leggings and a blue wrap-top, an air of sophistication about her that I wish I could pull off.
“Hi! I’m Sylvia.” She smiles and puts her hand out for me to shake.
I take her hand, bemused. I wonder what it would be like to have the confidence to walk up to anyone and just introduce myself so easily.
“I’m Tara. It’s nice to meet you. Are you one of the instructors?”
“Lord no! I’ve never done anything like this but figured it’s never too late to give it a try.” She grins, and her smile is infectious.
I find myself smiling back, listening as she tells me how she saw people dancing in the city and was handed a flyer about the class.
“I didn’t realise there was somewhere for social dancing in the city. That sounds fun,” I comment, and she nods with so much enthusiasm I briefly wonder if she’s going to hurt her neck.
“Oh yes, it looks like so much fun, too. I saw some couples doing these really complicated moves and would love to be able to do the same one day. It also looked like a great way to meet people. I just moved here from Melbourne and don’t really know anyone.”
We chat for a little longer until the female instructor comes to stand in the middle of the room and claps her hands.
“Alright everyone. My name is Danika, and that tall piece of goodness over there is my husband, Rafael.” The beautiful blonde woman points to a smiling, dark-haired man who is helping the woman at the front door with the line of people who had obviously waited until the last minute to arrive.
Rafael nods and leaves the woman to continue with the stragglers and joins his wife.
“Rafael and I have been dancing together for a number of years now, and have just retired from the professional circuit, but we love dancing so much that we decided to open up our own dance school. We have a passion for helping others find their love of dance, and can’t wait to get to know you all over the next twelve weeks,” Danika continues, turning slowly on the spot so that she’s able to address everyone.
“The style of salsa that we are going to teach you is Cuban style. So it’s a little different to what you might have seen if you’ve ever watched ballroom dancing, with a tap on the fourth and eighth beats.
We’re going to show you a routine now, and by the end of the twelve weeks, you will all hopefully be able to perform it with ease,” Rafael says with a heavy accent, flashing his very white teeth.
The pair of them make an absolutely stunning couple. The kind that look like they could be the leads in a movie or something.
While we all watch, Danika pulls her phone from her pocket and starts the music, which pumps out through the small bluetooth speaker on the edge of the stage.
It’s a fast paced latin song, and I stare at their feet, mesmerised, while they start moving to the music.
They move with ease, like the music is a part of them and dancing is as easy as breathing .
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Sylvia says, her voice full of awe as she stares at the couple.
“Yeah. No way I’ll ever be able to look even half as good,” I mutter, and she shakes her head.
“Don’t be silly. You’re here, aren’t you? That’s the hard part out of the way - finding the courage to step out of your comfort zone.” She sounds far more confident than I think she should be, given she’s not yet seen me attempt even the basic steps, but I smile nonetheless.
When the performance is over, the class erupts into applause while Danika and Rafael give a little bow.
They begin to organise us into rows. The women position themselves behind Danika while she faces Rafael, and the men do the same behind him.
I’m surprised to see that there appears to be a fairly even number on either side, which gives me some relief.
The last class I’d attended, the women outnumbered the men by around two to one, which meant we’d often have to dance solo, or sometimes with other women.
While it didn’t bother me so much, it’s nice to know I can focus on just the female’s steps this time instead of having to learn the male’s as well.
As they are about to start showing us the basic forward and back steps, a few more people enter the room, and my eyes widen when I recognise the last person.
I’m starting to get really tired of seeing that handsome face everywhere I go.
It’s like the universe is playing a huge joke on me and my libido.
Why does he have to be so damn good looking?
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, under my breath.
Sylvia glances over at me, momentarily distracted from watching Danika’s feet. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just recognised one of the guys who walked in,” I reply, waiting for Aiden to see me.
He seems nervous while the woman at the front gives them all a quick overview of what’s happening, and then points them towards where they should stand .
It’s not until he’s taken his place at the back that he looks around at the rest of us, and when his gaze finally meets mine, he blinks a few times. Like he’s trying to work out if I’m a figment of his imagination.
I give a small wave before shifting my focus back to Danika, trying to ignore the way my heart rate has picked up when he smiles at me.
After about ten minutes, they ask us to pair up, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I freeze.
I always hate this part in any activity.
The fear that I’m not going to be picked and be left standing alone.
Or worse, being the after thought and someone is forced to dance with me for lack of another option.
But Aiden makes a beeline straight for me, extending a hand for me to take.
I pause for a moment, wary, but place my hand in his gingerly, and he slides his other hand to rest between my shoulder blades.
Something about the way he does it gives me the impression that this isn’t the first time he’s danced like this.
Danika instructs everyone to form a circle with their partners.
Aiden moves us easily into place beside Sylvia and her partner, an older man who seems to be a little enamoured with my new friend, looking down at her with a twinkle in his eye.
I swallow a laugh when Sylvia giggles breathily at something he says.
“What are you doing here?” I mutter quietly, peering up at Aiden.
“Dancing,” Aiden replies with a small smile.
“Ha ha.” I roll my eyes. “I meant, how are you always everywhere I am lately?”
“Fate, Tara. It’s clearly fate.” His hand squeezes mine.
I’m unable to respond, because Danika calls for all eyes to watch them while they start to break down the routine they showed us earlier.
When they instruct us to try it, Aiden seamlessly leads me into the first turn, his movements fluid.
My body responds immediately, and I turn gracefully on the spot, turning to face him again and blink at him in surprise .
“You can dance,” I blurt out, stunned.
“I can,” he says with a nod, smile still firmly in place.
He looks pretty happy with himself.
I have so many questions, but Rafael instructs the women to move on to their next partner. Aiden hesitates for a moment before letting me go, and for some reason, I feel disappointed while I step to my left and Sylvia’s former partner takes hold of my hand.
The class continues on like this for the next forty minutes before Danika and Rafael end the lesson.
“We’re going to play some music for the next half an hour, for anyone who wants to continue dancing,” Danika says, before allowing Rafael to sweep her into his arms and spin her around the room.
My current partner definitely isn’t anywhere near ready to try anything new, so I move towards my handbag, pausing when I see Aiden dancing with the woman from the front door.
She’d joined the group to give extra instruction midway through the class, although watching how she’s smiling at Aiden, I suspect she’d realised he wasn’t a beginner and was excited to find an attractive man to dance with.
I swallow hard while my eyes follow their movements around the floor.
A few other couples are also trying out some of their new moves, but it’s obvious to all that Aiden is the most experienced of the class.
He leads her easily into moves we haven’t learned yet, and I don’t want to think about the emotion that is rising up inside of me while I watch him dip her backwards.
There’s no way I’m jealous of seeing someone else dancing with Aiden. I have no interest in him. I’m definitely not wishing it was me he was dancing with right now. He can dance with whoever he wants.
Sylvia appears at my side, elbowing me lightly in the ribs. “You seem to be watching him pretty closely,” she says, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly .
“Nope.” I turn back to my bag, pretending to be interested in my phone.
“Ha, you can’t fool me. I saw you two, earlier. There’s a spark there.”
“Definitely not. All that’s between us is a healthy dose of frustration,” I reply, sliding my bag over my shoulder.
“Ah yes, frustration of the sexual kind. I understand,” she teases, and I gape at her.
“No!” I splutter. “Just normal frustration.”
She grins. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, darling.”
I roll my eyes. I can tell she’s just trying to get a rise out of me, so change the subject. “Did you want to catch up sometime outside of class? I can give you my number?”
Her smile changes to something softer, and she places her hand on my arm. “I would absolutely love that.”
We exchange numbers and I leave without saying goodbye to Aiden, ignoring the niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach when he pauses briefly to watch me walk out.
I have got to find a way to get over these confusing feelings I have towards him. There’s no way it can go anywhere, not while he’s my boss and we work so closely together. That would just be a recipe for disaster.