“Because they’re dance shoes,” she said, like he was an idiot. “They have grip, but are designed to move across waxed floors, and allow for dance moves. The heels are to improve your posture.”
He took off his sneakers, and he caught her muffled laughter.
“I like your socks.”
His socks with jets on them. Yep, branded by the team, that was him. “I’m doing what I can to get the word out.”
“That you are. You should put that on your socials.”
Maybe he should. He’d take a pic and post it on Insta later.
“Now try them on.”
He pulled on the first shoe, laced it up. Winced. “Is it supposed to be that tight?”
“Try the other. Remember, it’s going to feel tight because you’ve been on your feet all day.”
He did, then took a tentative walk across the dance floor, trying not to look like a wuss as his toes pinched. Tough guy he would not appear if he complained too much.
“If you wear them at home, you’ll find they’ll fit better. And put them on first thing in the day.”
“I go for a run first thing in the day.” When he prayed, and listened to the Bible and his Northwest Ice playlist or various Christian podcasts.
“Then after that.” She eyed him. “You’re wearing them on Sunday’s show, so you need to get used to it now.”
He blew out a breath. Sunday? How on earth would they be ready for the show? Another question he’d have to ask her on their non-date after rehearsals today.
“Look, I just wanted to apologize for earlier again.”
“For what?”
Did the woman not hold grudges? Had she forgotten that quick? “I mean with, um…” He motioned to his pec.
She gestured to her chest. “That? Please forget it. I’ve moved on. You need to as well. And I mean that. And I’d really rather know what was bothering you after.”
He winced, trying to remember. That’s right. How this would look like on TV. How he’d look on TV. But saying that aloud would make him look like a vain tool, and he had no desire to do that.
He glanced around the studio. Ella and the camera crew had left, it was just them. He’d wanted to go to a café or restaurant, but Bailey had shot him down, saying that would look too much like a date, which wouldn’t work for the “no-relationship” clause in their contract. So they were still here, having told Ella they were running through more rehearsals. Even if he was wishing they could be anywhere else. Maybe they could go to a park, go running together. He’d have to find out if she enjoyed running too.
“I don’t have secret microphones installed if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
He managed a nervous laugh, then sighed. “Look, I don’t want to sound arrogant or anything, but I just don’t want my reputation as a tough guy on the ice being affected by looking too soft on the dance floor.”
“You think my routine is too soft?”
“It’s not the choreography,” look at him using dance terms, “it’s the music.”
She nodded. “I wondered. But it’s Harry Connick Junior, and he’s a legend, and the music for foxtrot does tend to be softer, and you know it’s what they sent me. And I didn’t figure I could argue about song selection on my very first dance.”
“Do you know what’s next?”
“The next dance? It’s a jive. It’s a lot faster, and you can look tougher, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“I don’t need to look tough, but I can’t afford to look too soft.”
She nodded. “But you do know this is all edited, right? That the show will want to portray you a certain way. And you’re known for being big and tough and intimidating, and someone somewhere thought it would be fun to show a different side to you, show you’re a man who cares about his mom and is willing to do this for her. You show that on Sunday and suddenly you’re more nuanced than the big man on skates.”
Huh. Like the GM had said not even a week ago.
“You don’t need to worry about Sunday, Luc. You’ll be great. People will love you.”
“Are you sure? I’m trying, but I just don’t think my body was designed to move the way you think it is.”
“It’s called training, just like you’ve had to do with hockey. Were you able to stand up on skates the first time you put them on?”
He shrugged. “I can’t remember that long ago.”
“Most people wouldn’t manage skating well first try, and the audience will understand you’re not a dancing pro and that they shouldn’t expect perfection from you. Luc, you need to remember it’s a show, an entertainment show, and it’s about giving the viewers what they want. And they always want stories, don’t they? Someone to cheer for, a villain, a hero, an underdog. You understand that, right?”
He nodded. He understood the concept of that, anyway.
She smiled. “Call me crazy, but I guess in some ways hockey can be like that too.”
Hockey was life, but whatever. “There’s definitely some villains,” like Sean Hart, “and some heroes.” He winked.
“I wonder who you could possibly mean?”
He chuckled. “I think you need to come to a game sometime.”
