She’d thought through Luc’s comments a thousand times, but still couldn’t figure out what she could’ve done better. And now, she had to create a contemporary routine and a sexy but not too sexy tango, and do her best to sell them as a couple, all without making her dad upset.
Her parents had called after last night’s performance. And while her mom had been pleased and had understood about the dress mishap and Luc’s clumsy moments, her dad, as suspected, had not. She hadn’t shared what he said, with either Luc, or with Coco. That he was disappointed in Luc, disappointed in her, hated to see his daughter dressed like that, dancing those moves on national television like that…
And now she didn’t know what to do. Coco was no help, she was fully focused on making her own routine as powerful as it could be, which was fair enough. Poppy, too, had her own ideas, considering how it had basically looked like Luc had groped her on TV.
“He didn’t,” Bailey insisted during their phone call. “He touched my décolletage, not anything lower. Anyway, it was an accident.”
“Yeah, he tried to kiss you. We all saw that.”
She’d closed her eyes. “Isn’t that what you suggested? That we should somehow sell the idea that we are a couple, that that would get votes?”
“I know I said the audience will eat up the idea of a showmance, but you need to be careful. I don’t want to see you ending up hurt,” Poppy said.
“But I’m not. We’ve talked about this. As soon as the show is done, then we’re going to go out.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. He likes me, Poppy, and I like him.”
“But just be careful, okay? Remember what happened last time.”
With Mark. When she’d lost herself in trying to please a man.
“He’s a Christian, Poppy. He’s not going to ask me to do stuff that’s inappropriate.”
“You and I both know not all Christian guys practice what they preach.”
But she knew Luc was different. He’d always been respectful, kept his word.
She shook it off. Told herself to focus. With two dances to perform at the final so she could get her ten grand and clear her debt, they had no time to lose.
Ella and the crew arrived at the studio, and she said hello. Then Luc arrived, dressed in a tight black tee and pants, looking no worse for wear despite their one AM departures from the celebrations at the restaurant. Maybe it was because he’d already had a few sips from one of the coffees he held, before giving her the other to-go cup.
“Hey Bailey. How’d you sleep?”
The gravelly tone in his voice made her wonder what he looked like first thing in the morning. Whether he wore PJs or—Stop! God, forgive me. She needed to be careful. This was exactly what had happened before, letting her imagination go where it shouldn’t. She took a giant slug of coffee, then started sputtering.
“Hey, don’t drink it all at once.” He gently patted her on the back. “Are you okay?”
She glanced across. Ella had the boys filming. Of course she did. She straightened. Coughed out the last of it, then forced a smile. Focus! “I’m okay now. I was so excited last night I don’t think I slept as much as I could, but this is helping.” She sipped. “Thanks.”
“It’s almost as good as Max’s at the Coffee Haus in the Peg.” He winked, as if aware of this shameless promotion. Max hadn’t minded Bailey’s leave of absence, nor Luc’s plugs, some of which had made it on TV.
“You two getting started anytime soon or have we got time to grab one of those ourselves?” Ella called.
“Nope. We’re starting.” Lord, help me focus.
She clapped her hands. Luc smiled, and her heart fluttered some more. Stop it! “Okay, now we’re into the final”—the final!—“we have to perform two dances. And those are the contemporary and the tango.”
His eyes lit at that last, his lips twisting to a smile that sent a shiver to her bones.
“And that means we need to work extra hard this week to nail both performances. But the good news is the contemporary is pretty open to what we want. Remember, it’s about telling a story. Of course, it will need to be guided by the music we pick.”
“We get to pick this time?”
“It’s more like a choice between two songs chosen for us. So I’m going to leave that to you. The first song is a modern version of ‘Wonderful Life’ by Smith & Burrows, the second is ‘Midnight’ by Coldplay.”
“I don’t mind some Coldplay.”
“Well, have a listen to both songs, and you tell me what you can see the songs saying, and how you think we can interpret that in dance.”
“You’re not choreographing?”
“I have some ideas for both pieces, but I figured you should choose the song you like more, especially as I know you’re so worried about looking tough.”
He shrugged, but yeah, the little smile there suggested he didn’t mind her tease.
“Okay, so here’s the first one.” She pressed play, gave him her phone.
It was obvious from the way his brow furrowed that he wasn’t a huge fan. “The guy is singing about how wonderful life is, but he sounds depressed.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is moody.”
“Yeah, depressed.”
He should really talk to her therapist if he didn’t know the difference. “I like it, but the decision is yours. So have a listen to the second song here.” Coldplay’s “Midnight”. It had plenty of drama, and would be more accessible to audiences who’d be more familiar with the wash of sound.
“Yeah, definitely this one.” Luc handed back her phone.
