Luna Tango (2 page)

‘¡
Mierda
!'

Her eyes flew open at Jorge's expletive. ‘I'm sorry!'

Carlos banged his cane on the floorboards. ‘Keep going!'

Jorge let go, rubbed his foot then held her again, determination renewed. They moved to the right and this time Dani kept her eyes open. She took a hesitant step, pulled back, leant forwards and smashed her head into something solid.

‘Argh!' Jorge rubbed his forehead.

‘Oh god, I'm sorry!' She turned to Carlos. ‘I can't do this. He's going to end up in hospital before the end of the song. Listen, I'm not here for a lesson. All I want is to ask a few questions—'

A smile raced across Carlos's lips and his eyes sparkled. A belly laugh followed.

‘What?'

‘I never thought I would see the day,' Carlos spoke between bursts of laughter, ‘when there would be evidence of a person with two left feet.'

‘You are hilarious. I tried to tell you I couldn't dance but you wouldn't listen.'

‘My listening skills are very good but I chose not to believe you, yes? I find you amusing. Tell me your name.'

‘Dani McKenna.'
Like I said before, if you'd paid attention
.

‘Dani is short for Daniela,
sí?'
He stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger.

She nodded.

‘Daniela is a perfectly good name. This is what you were born with, this is what I will call you.'

She wanted to argue but had no desire to explain why she detested her full name. Sorrow wrapped around Dani as the last words her mother said echoed in her heart.
I'll love you forever, Daniela
.

‘Have you learned the martial arts?' Carlos asked, saving her from jumping into the all too familiar well of grief.

‘No. What does that have to do with tango?'

‘In martial arts you must be completely focused on the other person at all times. You have to adapt and pay attention to what the opponent is doing. A slip of focus means defeat and inevitable pain. It is the same for tango.'

‘But you said tango is a meeting of two hearts. What's this opponent business?'

‘Tango, like love, is complicated. Tell me, Daniela McKenna, why should I talk with you?'

‘I work for
The Edge
magazine and Tourism Argentina has sponsored me to write about the evolution of the tango lifestyle over the past hundred years.'

‘Not interested.'

‘Why not?'

‘I am not interested.'

‘That's it?' Panic grew within at the possibility that her chance for career success and personal healing had just started a slithery descent into the Valley of Failure.

‘I will tell you this—the foreign journalists think tango is about sex, sex, sex.' He pounded his fist against the wall and Dani flinched inside, unnerved by his aggression. Or was it passion? ‘It is not about the sex. It is about a meeting of the souls. It has nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with the spiritual but none of you people understand.'

‘I'm not like other journalists.' Of course she wasn't. Other journalists wouldn't endure this humiliation. Perhaps he was testing her resolve. ‘I want to immerse myself in the tango culture and appreciate why people the world over are enchanted by this dance and music. My articles will depict what it's truly like to live and breathe and love tango.'
Then I might finally understand why my mother did what she did
.

‘No.'

‘Are you always this difficult or is it only when you speak to journalists?' she asked and he gave a half shrug. Surely misunderstanding the meaning of tango is not enough to hate journalists with such fervour. ‘If you had no intention of helping me then why did you make me dance?'

His lips twisted into a smirk and Dani grabbed her bag and marched to the exit.

‘I'll be back,' she said over her shoulder.

‘I'll be locking the doors.'

* * *

Dani sat in her hotel room and stared at the laptop, willing her inbox to ping with incoming mail. She'd sent a message to Adam only minutes ago and even though she didn't expect an instant reply, she wanted one.

She leant against the pillows and studied the flocked red flowers pressed onto the pale gold wallpaper. Somehow, the retro room comforted her.

The bell sounded on her laptop and her heart tripped and banged against her chest when she read his name in bold. The bastard still had an impact on her life.

She clicked on the email and sucked air between her teeth.

Dani
,

I hope you're feeling better since the last time we spoke. I don't know how many times I can tell you I'm sorry. I wish there was a way I could help you see why this is right for everyone and I hope one day you'll understand my actions
.

How are the stories? No doubt Tourism Argentina is treating you like a queen. Use your fluency in Spanish to woo the locals, get the scoop and write me some killer feature articles. I like your idea of digging deeper with Escudero. As we discussed, though, he's going to be a hard sell and I'm not sure you have the chops for it. Though I wouldn't mind you proving me wrong
.

This is your only chance at that break into features you've been nagging me for. We both know making coffee is not one of your strong points. Take advantage of your time there and make sure it's the best damn writing you've ever done. Make Escudero talk. You're a smart girl. Figure it out
.

Cheers
,

Adam

She stared at his sign-off—
cheers
. Her jaw tightened and tears burned her eyes. Cheers? Cheers! Where did he get off saying cheers? Cheers you say to mates. Cheers you say to work colleagues. Cheers you say to ... Oh. Well, technically she was his employee and nothing else now. Life had gotten complicated way too quickly, although she should thank her lucky stars for her timely escape.

Dani ran her fingers over the bare skin that once proudly displayed an engagement ring. Throwing it at Adam's head had given her little satisfaction and she still couldn't get used to seeing her naked finger.

Even though she'd witnessed her parents' relationship fall apart and her own attempts at love had been pretty pathetic, she'd given in to Adam's charms and allowed him to enter her life with an estranged wife and son in tow. A tinge of guilt raced through her for being part of the reason Adam hadn't reconciled with his wife earlier. After all, she knew what it was like for a parent to take off and leave a kid wondering what they'd done wrong. She didn't even begrudge him when he returned to his family, but it was the way he did it that hurt most. Really, who visits their ex to tell them they're getting married and—
whoops!
—accidentally sleeps with said ex then decides the relationship is back on?

The only reason Adam let her branch into features was because he felt guilty for dumping her and going back to his wife. He probably thought that once Dani had established herself, she'd leave the magazine anyway. That would be easier than him inventing a reason to fire her.

Clicking onto her bank account, Dani checked the balance then read Adam's email again. Reaching out to her ex had been a mistake.

She logged off and slammed the laptop lid shut. Carlos Escudero didn't know it yet, but he'd just met his match.

Dani sat on a faded emerald-green brocade sofa and willed her foot not to tap. Her eyes travelled from the arched windows to the myriad photos hanging on the walls of the dance studio. Many of the images featured Carlos with various dance partners but there were none of him with the infamous Cecilia Ortiz, his ex-fiancée. Dani trained her eyes to look everywhere but directly at the man himself. Skilled in reading people, she knew better than to hassle someone like him into talking before he'd processed his thoughts. The fact he'd left the door unlocked when she'd returned gave her a glimmer of hope.

‘It is an interesting offer.' He leant back against the chair and clasped his hands behind his neck.

‘Is that a yes?'

‘No.'

God, she hated that word. She wanted to shake his shoulders and scream, ‘What will it take to get a yes?' but instead she clasped her hands on her lap and wore a non-committal expression.

‘Are you telling me the money I've offered isn't enough?' she asked, unable to believe his greed.

‘It's not the money, but if you would like to offer more …'

‘No.'
Oh, that felt good
. ‘I can't.'

Of course she couldn't. She'd just put a dent in her bank account to get this guy on board. Cheque book journalism didn't sit well but she viewed it as an investment in her future, because if he cooperated, she could get her stories and all her problems would disappear into the ether. Well, not entirely, but at least she could forge a new career in feature writing and prove to her grandma the jump from teaching English to journalism wasn't an entirely insane career move. And if she found information about Iris ...

‘All right,' he said. So he
could
say something other than no.

‘But—what?' she asked, sensing his agreement had a catch.

‘The amount is all right. Good, in fact.'

Crap. She should have started lower.

‘I want more.'

‘You said the amount was good. You said—'

‘If I help with these articles, you do it on my terms. I am tired of the journalists writing what they like. It is my legacy to protect the reputations of generations of tango dancers before me. You and me, we work together and tell the real story of tango.'

She detested someone else having an influence over her writing but she could circumvent that later if she needed to. Journalistic integrity was more than a catchphrase for Dani but now wasn't the time to debate the state of modern journalism.

‘Maybe,' she said. Ha! And her mates gave her grief for playing chess at uni.

‘There's one more thing.'

Uh oh
. She nodded for him to continue.

‘We go to the dancing tonight.'

‘But—'

‘You cannot write about tango if you cannot dance it. For every step you learn, I will answer a question.'

‘Don't you recall my efforts yesterday?' She cringed inwardly and wondered if poor Jorge now walked with a limp like his teacher.

‘I do, yes.'

‘What makes you think you can teach me? Your deal is one-sided. You want money, control over my articles,
and
I have to dance for answers.' Sadist. He played this game beautifully and it crossed her mind that Carlos Escudero's experience with journalists meant he could see she was as green as a four-leaf clover.

‘You take it or leave it, yes?' he said.

Oh, she should so leave it. She
desperately
wanted to leave it. But she couldn't. Never in her life had she needed someone's help so badly. It sucked on many levels to be in this position, although she'd be worse off back in New York. Images rushed in of Dani moping at her desk in the editorial department of the mag and an apartment devoid of Adam's presence. She gave an involuntary shudder.

‘You are cold?' Carlos reached for his jacket and offered it to her.

‘I'm fine, thanks.' Huh. So he could be chivalrous. ‘I don't see how I can say yes. If you want me to learn steps as part of the deal then I'm going to have to decline.' God, how she wished she'd inherited her mother's talent for tango.

‘I did not travel the world as a professional tango dancer because I am bad at it. I do not have my own dance studio because I am bad at it. When I teach you to dance, you will not be bad at it.'

She wondered what it was like living in Carlos Escudero's bubble. She doubted there'd be much elbow room between him and his inflated ego. Although his self-assurance almost led her to believe he could teach her at least a couple of steps. Then reality hit and she shook her head.

‘I can do this, you must have the trust in me.' Carlos dipped his chin and locked eyes with her. ‘Trust in yourself.'

She did admire his attempts and thanked the Powers That Be Carlos had no idea who her mother was. If he did, she'd have to suffer the embarrassment of explaining why the dancing gene hadn't just skipped Dani, it had fled. Also, she didn't want to deal with the inevitable questions that would accompany her revelation about Iris. No one outside the family knew who her mother was and she had no intention of revealing the truth—to anyone. Somehow, Dani needed to find a way to understand Iris's idiosyncrasies and passion through Carlos. Learning tango could be the easy part.

‘I still don't think it's a fair deal.'

‘No student of mine has walked out this door unable to dance the basic steps of tango.'

‘You've never had me as a student.'

‘I do now.'

‘What makes you think I'll say yes?'

‘You have no choice.'

Her mouth fell open and she willed her brain to connect but to no avail.

‘We make the deal, yes?'

She nodded, wishing she could disagree.

‘You wait here. I will refresh myself then we go to the
práctica
, where the dress and attitude is casual. Here they practise tango before progressing to a
milonga
that is more serious and formal and full of rules. But at both these tango halls you will witness what it is to live and breathe tango.' He stood and limped to the office, shutting the door behind him with a click. Moments later the sound of gushing water filled the silence.

She leant against the sofa, exhausted. It still felt like she was bribing rather than paying him a consulting fee, but whatever worked. Normally, she could win people over but Señor Escudero appeared immune to her charms. Paying her first interview subject for his cooperation made her doubt her professional abilities and if she had to do this with every interview, she'd be broke before the year ended. That's if she got more articles after this one. Everything depended on Carlos's help.