Lovers' Dance (23 page)

“If you people don’t leave these premises, the police will be called. That’s your final warning.”

Matt and Nathan moved towards her. She spun sideways, ready to verbally attack them, then paused. Her eyes widened as she stared at Matt.

“You’re Matthew Bradley,” she whispered.

“Yes, I am,” he replied, taking her arm and heading for the door with her in tow. “I need to see Madi.”

She kept staring at him, seemingly dazed, while Nathan yanked the door open and ushered them through.

“Bloody hell, Matt.” Nathan peered out the glass door at the reporters excitedly hovering around and pulling out their mobiles. “There’ll be more vultures here within the hour.”

Matt had one thing on his mind. He let go of the woman’s arm and held her gaze as he enunciated in crisp, clear words, “Where is Madison?”

She blinked a few times, then broke from her stupor. “I’m Gloria, the receptionist. Please have a seat and I’ll get her for you.” Gloria gestured to the chairs before turning on her heels and running down the corridor. Matt stifled the urge to race after her and, once he’d seen which door she knocked on before entering, he began to pace the nicely decorated reception area. There were pictures of ballerinas in different poses on the cream walls, several potted plants and the receptionist’s desk was covered with pamphlets.

Nathan took a seat and glanced around the open space. “Nicely decorated. I wonder how old this building is.”

Matt rubbed his lower jaw to hide his scowl as he paced. He didn’t care about the building. He needed to see his poppet and, if that woman didn’t return with Madi in the next minute, he would go find her himself.

“Have a seat,” Nathan said to his back. “I’m sure she’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Matt continued to wear a hole in the green carpet and glared in the direction of the corridor. Where was she?

Two minutes later the door down the corridor opened and Gloria walked out, a strained smile on her face. Matt’s eyes narrowed as he saw the person following her. They hurried towards them. On seeing their approach, Nathan stood up and made his way to Matt’s side.

“Matthew Bradley.” He held his hand out to the black man he knew Madi had a crush on.

“Dante Palmer.” Dante shook his hand briefly while eyeing him up.

“Yes, I know who you are. Madi has told me a lot of good things about you.” Matt was a civilised man and this was her close friend. He would try to be friendly, even though his jealous possessiveness raised its head.

Dante smirked, folding his arms and saying drily, “Really? ’Cos she’s never spoken about you.”

An awkward pause developed as they exchanged tense looks. Nathan cleared his throat and stuck his hand out.

“Nathan Walthamstow. Pleased to meet you.”

Dante shook his hand, eyes never leaving Matt’s face. Matt knew in that instant they would never be friends.

“Where’s Madi?” he asked brusquely.

“Currently unavailable,” Dante replied. Gloria tittered under her breath, then walked to her desk. 

Matt narrowed his eyes, holding Dante’s challenging gaze, and pasted a polite smile on his face. “Is that so? I’m not leaving here until I speak to her, so I’d suggest you take me to her at once.”

Dante’s mouth tightened into an unhappy line before he shrugged and turned back towards the corridor. “Follow me.”

They trooped down the hallway, stopping at the door with a gold plaque that stated ‘Office’.

Dante opened it up and stepped inside. Matt’s temper rose when he entered behind him and saw the cluttered room devoid of anyone else. He turned to question Dante about it but, before he could open his mouth, Dante walked over to the desk and bent down.

“Sweet cheeks, you’ve got visitors.”

“Go away, Dante.”

Matt looked at Nathan who was wearing a bemused expression on his face, then stared at the desk in the middle of the room. She was under there?

“Come out, Madi,” Dante said.

“No. I’m staying under here until everything goes back to normal. Leave me alone.”

Dante straightened up, shooting Matt a look as if to say, “See, she’s unavailable.”

Matt strode over to the desk. “Poppet, come out from under there. I need to talk to you.”

“Matt? Is that you?” Her voice quivered and Matt felt terrible. She was hiding under a desk. The fault lay on his doorstep. The media wouldn’t be outside if it wasn’t for who he was.

“Who else, poppet? Come out so we can talk.”

“What’s going on, Matt? How do people know—”

“Madi,” he interrupted, “I am not having a discussion with a desk. Come out at once.”

There was movement and a few seconds later her head popped above the desk. “Stop ordering me around. This is all your fault.” Her hair was a mass of springy wild curls and the brown depths of her eyes shone with unhappy anger. Matt wanted nothing more than to stroke her smooth dark skin, kiss that hurt away, but they weren’t alone. He needed to rectify that.

“Can we talk somewhere private?” he asked, hoping Dante and Nathan would take the hint and leave.

“Private?” she hissed as she stood up, looking cute in a blue hooded sweat shirt and matching slacks. “You want to talk in private?”

Matt knew the upcoming conversation was not going to be pleasant. He wanted a chance to explain what steps needed to be taken to minimize the media storm now brewing.

“Yes,” he replied coolly, while giving her a confident smile. Maintaining a calm and collected head in the face of chaos was a trait that had been inbred in him since he could talk.

<><><>

I stared at Matt for a second, that arrogant smile on his face as he stood there casually as if my world wasn’t being torn apart.

“Nothing is private. There are reporters outside my place of business, asking personal questions about us. We’ve had to cancel classes. Is this a joke to you?” My voice was shrill and Matt gave me his ‘I’m older and smarter than you look’. It pissed me off.

“Of course not.”

“Have you seen what they have been writing about us? About me?” I fumed. He was acting as if this was nothing. To him it might be nothing; he was used to being in the public eye, but I wasn’t. I clacked my fingers over the keyboard, bringing up the last article I’d read and scrolling down to the comments section.

“Madi,” he started. My glare cut him off.

“That Bradley man should be ashamed of himself. Bestiality is illegal. Lol.” I read it out loud.

Matt’s face lost all its colour. Nathan looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. Dante shook his head in disgust. He understood.

“Don’t y’all got white sheets in England? Lol.” My hands were starting to shake as I verbalized the foulness posted on the site.

“She’s a hoe, a gold-digging hoe. That man should know better.”

“Black women are cumsluts for white men. Betcha he’s into role play. Think he has a whip? LMAO.”

“I’d fuck her, too. Have you seen that ass?”

“Wonder how much he’s paying her?”

“How can a rich, good-looking white man sleep with a black woman? Easy. Turn off the lights. Pussy feels the same in the dark. Wait. Make sure she shaved. ROTFL.”

Matt reached out for me, and I jerked away. It was vile, and it made me sick.

“Why are you people posting these comments? Wealthy, white men always make charitable donations to minorities, and I’m sure he’s donating a lot of charity in her ass. Wink, wink.”

“She looks like her crack-whore mum, both slags. Ghetto yank bitch need to leave our white men alone. Even their own kind don’t want them. Why the hell is she over here? She isn’t English. Go back to Africa, skank.”

“You can’t blame her, niggas always wanting something from white people. She wants his money and uses her ass to get it.”

“Did the article say she was a ballerina? Hmm, is that the new name for stripper now? lol. You know we’re all thinking it.”

“Enough.” Matt’s harsh command cracked through the air. “Stop reading those repulsive comments.”

My breathing was becoming erratic, and Dante immediately came over to grab me by the shoulders. I could feel the beginnings of another panic attack coming on.

“Breathe, Madi,” he murmured, inhaling deeply, then exhaling slowly. I tried to mimic his calm breathing, but could only take short, frantic gulps of air.

“What’s wrong with her?” Matt asked.

“She’s about to have a panic attack,” Dante explained, with a nasty undertone running through his words. “Hasn’t had one for years and this will be her second for the day.”

It was obvious Dante laid the blame at Matt’s feet. I focused on my breathing while peering into Dante’s chocolate eyes.

“That’s it, sweet cheeks,” he soothed five minutes later. “Nice and easy. Atta girl.”

I let out a long, shaky breath, thankful I hadn’t lapsed into a full-blown attack in front of Matt and his friend. With that thought in my mind, I managed a weak smile in Nathan’s direction.

“Hey, Nathan, nice to see you again.”

He shuffled a briefcase from one hand to the next, looking uncomfortable next to one of the filing cabinets. “Yes, I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances, Madi.”

“You suffer from panic attacks?” Matt asked, reaching over to pull me away from Dante.

“Not since I was a kid but, as of today, yes,” I bit out, mad over his blasé behaviour. I jerked back from him and stalked a few feet away. Matt followed, intruding on my personal space and obviously ignoring my mean countenance. This was all his fault.

“I’m going to sue,” I said to no one in particular. “They can’t print lies about my family. They’re making it sound as if my mom was a weed-smoking hippy who got swept up in a modern sort of civil rights movement. She wasn’t an activist, and she didn’t smoke. I know she didn’t. That picture was photo-shopped.”

Matt suddenly looked uneasy and tugged at the collar of his sweater. I liked him in that sweater. It clung to the lines of his upper body in an appealing way. I pushed my untimely, horny thoughts away and began planning my vengeance on the media. I would sue all their asses and invest all the money I won into the dance studio.
Ha!

“Erm, poppet.” Matt hesitated as my gaze swung to him. He straightened his broad shoulders and fixed a neutral expression on his handsome face. “You can’t instigate litigation procedures against the press.”

I frowned. Did he expect me to allow my family’s name to be dragged through the mud?

“Erm, yes I can. I don’t know how you normally deal with the press, but I’m not letting them get away with this. It’s slander and my mom can’t defend herself—”

“It’s not slander if it’s true, Madi,” Matt said quietly.

“Say what?” Dante burst out. He’d stolen the words right from my mouth. Nathan fidgeted with his briefcase, not meeting anyone’s eyes while I stared open-mouthed at Matt.

“It isn’t,” I finally said with conviction. Aunt Cleo never mentioned anything about my mom being caught up in things like that. Then, again, she rarely spoke about my mom.

“Yes, it is, poppet,” Matt said softly. “I’m not implying she was a habitual marijuana user—”

My mouth fell open again.

“—but there is photographic proof that she…well, that’s beside the point…”

My eyes widened in disbelief. Matt cleared his throat lightly.

“She was a participating member of a few affirmative rights movements, but that was for a very brief period and she was only a young woman then. When she met your father, she left—”

“Shut up,” I whispered, not wanting to hear anymore. It was a lie. I knew my parents. This new information was fabricated. Why the hell was Matt ready to believe these things printed about them? “How can you stand there and agree with the media? How can you act like you know this is true when it isn’t?”

Matt’s sighed in resignation, then said, “I don’t want you to get upset with what I’m about to tell you, poppet.”

Nathan suddenly went over to the far corner of the room, opening his briefcase and immersing himself in whatever it contained. I arched an eyebrow at his strange behaviour, then turned my attention back to Matt.

He closed the small distance between us, grey eyes filled with unreadable emotion.  “Before we began our relationship, I came into possession of information concerning you and your family—”

“What?” The word on the tip of my tongue once again being verbalized by Dante, who was no longer perched on the edge of the desk. He stalked towards Matt.

I didn’t understand at first. How could Matt know about me before we hooked up? Then it hit me.

“You bastard.” The palm of my right hand made a hard connection with Matt’s left cheek. The sound of the slap was sharp, like the crack of a whip. The only reaction from Matt was a small wince of pain.

“You ran a background check on me, didn’t you? You self-righteous, up-your-own-ass pig. How dare you!”

Matt’s throat bobbed up and down. The imprint of my palm was startling red across his cheek. “Madi, darling, I—”