Dance With Me (35 page)

It ended with Ed flat on his back on the bed, with Laurie sliding over him, taking their cocks together in his hand, guiding them, leading them until Ed pushed up on his elbows and took charge, took them over, and pushed them both over the edge into pleasure.

All worries of the studio, of Maggie, of his mother, of the dance, of the future were gone. Laurie went with Ed gladly, never looking back, never looking down, knowing his partner would never let him fall.

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Chapter Sixteen

chasse: gallop where one foot chases the other; a traveling step.

It happened, as it had for everyone else, at the end of the day on Friday. It was the second week of January.

Ed didn't figure it out at first. He was late for his therapy appointment and tried to brush off his supervisor when he called Ed into his office. His first clue came when Tracy wouldn't wait until Monday, but even then he mostly chalked it up to more head games as usual. It wasn't until Tracy asked him to sit down and Ed got a good look at her face that he realized what was about to happen.

“No,” Ed said, rising out of his chair as if there had been a spring in the seat. “
No
. You cannot fire me. Not now.”

“You're not fired, Ed,” she said wearily. “You're being laid off. Come on, man. You've known this was coming.”

No. Not now. Not now
. “I told you, I have health issues—that's why I have to take the breaks. I got you the doctor's note like you asked.”

“They reduced positions. It wasn't even my decision.”

Ed shoved his hand in his hair. He felt his neck strain at the motion and felt sick. “I can stay later. I can work for less. But I have to keep this job.”

“I'm sorry.” Tracy's tone was so wooden Ed looked up. His boss looked glassy, and Ed realized this was another wave and that Tracy had been doing this all afternoon. If Ed hadn't been so busy working—ironically enough—he would have known to panic from all the other desks being cleared out.

And yet Ed had no empathy for her. He was too busy staving off raw panic. “I have to keep my insurance. I can't keep up all this PT if I have to pay for it out-of-pocket, especially without a job. Come on. There's got to be someone else.”

“It's based on seniority. I'm sorry, Ed. There's nothing I can do.” She handed Ed a manila envelope. “The severance package is outlined inside. Your insurance will continue for three months, and after that you can apply for COBRA.”

Except he'd never be able to afford COBRA with no job. Ed clutched the envelope impotently in his hands. He wanted to keep arguing, wanted to fight this, but the wall of Tracy's expression told him that not only would that get him nowhere, it might end up bringing security. For a few minutes he stood there anyway, thinking there had to be some way out, some clause, some something, but his brain was fogged. By the time he gave up and turned to leave, he felt as glassy as Tracy.

Security
was
waiting for him at his desk with three empty copy paper boxes, and Ed filled two of them in the same daze in which he'd left Tracy's office. A few people waved awkward good-byes at him, but mostly the building was empty, and Ed was able to make most of the journey to his car in dizzy silence, the security officers walking behind him bearing his boxes. Once he was in his car, he'd wanted to sit there a moment and get his bearings, but the guards were lingering, so he put the car in gear and drove out of the parking ramp.

The street, though, overwhelmed him, and he had to pull into an empty parking lot and put his head against the steering wheel for several minutes before he felt composed enough to drive some more. Even then, though, he weaved around side streets for a good ten minutes before he finally remembered he needed to head to his appointment.

He was late, so he didn't even get to sit down in the waiting room but was whisked straight back to the consultation room where Tim was waiting. He tried to play along with Tim's small talk, to not let on that anything was wrong, but Tim, no dummy, picked up on his odd mood and asked him, point-blank, what was wrong.

And that was when it hit him. That was when Ed realized it had been real, that he had in fact been laid off, that he could schedule his Monday appointment for any time because he had nowhere else to go. He realized he was going to have to tell his mother, and she would worry him into a nub. He realized he was going to have to look for work, but he knew from his occasional tries to find something better or at least different that there weren't any comparable jobs to be had. He realized he only had enough money in savings to get through the end of January at best, and that didn't count all the oddball stuff caring for his stupid “condition” brought into the mix.

He realized, cold seeping over him, that he would have to tell Laurie. That he would have to become not just the inferior boyfriend with a trick neck but the unemployed boyfriend as well. The cold feeling sank into Ed's bones, and his hands tightened, helpless, against his thighs.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Ed?” He looked up to find Tim looking down worriedly at him. “Are you okay?”

No. Not even close
. Ed forced a smile and shrugged Tim's hand away. “Just tired. Long day.”

Tim looked at him suspiciously a minute, then nodded. “Okay then. You ready to do some therapy, or should we give you a pass today?”

Ed thought of how soon he wouldn't be able to afford this at all and forced his smile a little more. “Naw. Let's do it.”

Tim smiled. “Good man. Maybe it will even perk you up.”

“Maybe,” Ed said, keeping his smile in place until Tim left the room to go and get the equipment he would need for their session.

The transition from working at Eden Prairie to working at the St. Paul studio did not go as smoothly as Laurie had planned, which bothered him largely because he hadn't anticipated it going very smoothly to start with.

His first mistake had been with how he got rid of his Eden Prairie classes. He had already discreetly bowed out of several of them, so he'd assumed that removing himself from all but the most advanced classes wouldn't cause much of a ripple either. But either he backed out of the wrong classes or the tension had already been building, because the parents kept storming in, angry. They kept him late at the studio arguing over whether or not this was fair even as they tried to cram their children into his remaining classes. When he tried to tell them he was starting more classes at the St. Paul studio, though, they weren't interested.

“I don't understand it,” he confessed to Vicky as he helped her sort through Oliver's latest batch of grant applications. “If they feel that strongly about having their students continue with me, they can bring them here. Why are they so angry about a little extra drive?”

“You're screwing with their worldview,” Vicky said. “With their social contract they believed they had with you. And I warned you about people coming over here. They won't like coming to what they see as a slum. Even for you.”

Laurie pursed his lips and shook his head. “Well, good riddance to them, then. I'm eager to work with people here instead.”

But that had been the second surprise.

It wasn't that no one signed up for the classes Laurie was offering; it was that so
few
had, and not for the courses he expected. Duon and his crew were still loyal, but Laurie realized he'd been expecting
all
the center kids to be that way, and they weren't. And while some of his former students and others from other suburbs and surrounding neighborhoods were willing to travel to the center to take instruction with Laurie, there weren't that many. And it made Laurie panic. Had he made a mistake? Was this going to be a disaster of
Titanic
proportions?

“Calm down,” Oliver told him when he stopped by to see his progress and Laurie had unloaded his panic onto him. “This is not a disaster. This is a start-up business. Rome was not built in a day.”

“But it's not
enough
.” Laurie tapped the paper in his hand in irritation. “I could have twice these numbers for ballet. I
should
have twice these numbers.” He shook his head and tossed the paper onto his desk. “I don't know what I was thinking. This will never help Vicky. Never. I'll be lucky if it doesn't beggar
me
.”

“Don't worry about Vicky,” Oliver told him. “I have a possible donor lined up.”

“Oh?” Laurie looked up. “Who?”

Oliver waved a dismissive hand. “Not saying anything until things are final. Though I do need to ask you to do something for me. I need you to come to dinner with Christopher and me. And bring Ed too. I'd like to meet him.”

“Dinner?” Laurie looked at Oliver, puzzled, but Oliver was earnest. “When?”

“Last weekend in February.” He paused, then added, “At your mother's house.” Laurie stiffened automatically, and Oliver sighed and put a hand on his arm. “Make peace with her, please. If only for my sake?”

Laurie hesitated but nodded.

Oliver released his arm with a satisfied pat. “Excellent. I'll give you further details as the date gets closer. In the meantime, try not to worry.”

Laurie snorted a laugh, but Oliver said nothing more, only turned his collar up against the cold and headed back out the front door.

Duon stopped by that afternoon as well, as he had become wont to do. He had signed up for every one of Laurie's classes and did odd jobs as his method of paying for them. He was doing well, too, in every kind of dance.

He liked to con Laurie into showing him “extra fancy stuff” when the studio was slow, and Laurie was doing just that, showing Duon how to do a crossover high kick and slide when Ed came through the door, looking even more weary than usual. Laurie went over and gave him a kiss.

“Doing okay?” he asked, casting a worried glance at his lover's neck.

Ed nodded, but he grimaced too. He pasted on a smile, though, when he saw Duon. “There's trouble.”

“Whatever, bitch.” Duon bumped his hip playfully against Ed's as he slipped past him to get his coat. “You two lovebirds have fun. I gotta get home. Shit to do.”

“Good,” Laurie said, trying to sound stern. “Because I'm serious. I won't teach you next week if you don't show me the note from your counselor saying you're passing at least three classes. And you can forget being in the benefit show for the center too.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Duon grumbled, but there was a smile playing across his face as he left the studio.

As the door closed, Ed kissed Laurie soundly on the mouth. “You're very good for him,” he said. “You're good for all of them.”

“I just wish I had more students,” Laurie said, getting nervous again.

He felt Ed's hands slide over his shoulders and knead gently. “Come on, babe. Leave this for now. I came here to practice with you, not argue this out again. People will come when they come. You said yourself the money doesn't matter.” Laurie tried to object, and then Ed bent down and kissed him. “Dance,” he said and nipped Laurie's lower lip. “With me. Now.”

There was something odd in Ed's demeanor, something that made Laurie want to ask him what was wrong, but there was something else too that made him want to wait. Laurie left him briefly to cue up some music, and Ed led Laurie into the center of the open space and took him into his arms as a tango began.

“You shouldn't leave any stereo equipment in here,” Ed scolded him as he led them into the opening steps and then into a baldosa. “Hide it in the back room in that spot I showed you at the end of the day.”

“I lock the cabinet,” Laurie pointed out.

“Yes. That shows them right where to break in.”

Laurie, feeling foolish, stepped out of Ed's cazas and began a molinete. “Fine.” Except as he spun through the windmill pattern around Ed, he thought of what a huge pain it was going to be to haul the equipment around all the time. He also couldn't help noting he'd never had to do such a thing in Eden Prairie. Shutting his eyes, he followed Ed into an ocho, but the worries which had plagued him in his office caught up with him, bringing their dark cloud into this space that was normally such a relief.

But then he felt Ed's leg slide against his, stepping between Laurie's own just in time to turn Laurie's startled back step into a perfect gancho. It should have knocked him over, except Ed's frame was sturdy and strong, so well-set that when he bent Laurie back, he didn't falter even then, just arched his spine with such form it was a shame there wasn't a judge there to see them and give them a perfect score.

So perfect that when Ed righted him again, for a moment Laurie leaned into him as his dizziness went away. And then he felt the tension lurking inside his partner and felt guilty. “Sorry. I'm self-involved today.”

“I like you self-involved.” Ed brushed a kiss against the side of his temple. “Everything is going to be fine,” he promised, then led Laurie into the dance again.

Ed had a natural affinity for the Argentine tango, and as soon as he'd discovered how much Laurie enjoyed it too, he'd demanded to be shown all the steps. He'd gone through a phase where he was a little too fond of displacing Laurie's step with a sacada or halting him with a parada, though this had given Laurie the opportunity to lecture him on how while the tango might be about improvisation, it was at heart a conversation. “You don't just feel the rhythm,” he'd told him. “You must feel the soul, both of the dance and of your partner. The tango isn't something you dance. It's a story you create with another.”

It was a lecture Ed had taken to heart, and the result was beneficial not just to Ed's performance but both their enjoyment. And Ed had learned weeks ago that the best way to undo even Laurie's foulest mood was to turn on the stereo and pull Laurie into a tango embrace. It worked as well now as it always had; within a minute of the dance's beginning, Laurie was lost in the steps, doing his best to anticipate Ed's lead, taking opportunities for more advanced steps and, now that Ed had a firm footing, indulging in amagues and golpecitos, and when he was lulled into a very good mood, he would rub his thigh or foot against Ed's in a caricias. Ed had picked up on this habit as well and knew what it meant. When Laurie turned an ocho into a boleo and lingered with an extra rub of his knee against Ed's thigh, Ed grinned and bent down to steal a quick kiss.