Someone suggested that one of the writers here construct a story about JC and Salsa dancing. This is my attempt. *laughs* I'm sure that she was expecting a hot, steamy visual. Unfortunately, that is not my strong suit - but I did come up with this. It is also turning into a much longer story than I had originally planned. I hope you like it. There is more to this first chapter, but my editor was not feeling well last night.
Maria gingerly stepped of the bus and instinctively held her breath until it pulled away from the cub. Years of practice had made her a pro at not inhaling diesel fumes. Feeling it was safe, she turned and gazed at the looming building across the street. She glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper clutched in her hand to make sure she had the right address.
She sucked on her bottom lip, a nervous habit since childhood, while she took in the site of the formidable brick structure. Her first impression was that of an old theater, one about three stories in height. The windows on the bottom two floors were bricked up. The topmost floor had a row of tall windows that a soft, warm light filtered through. A metal holder jutted out from the side and held a garish neon sign where an animated couple danced back and forth in abrupt, jerky movements. "Stairway to Heaven Dance Studio" flashed on and off as they moved. She wasn't sure if this was a glitch or if it was supposed to do that.
Maria sighed deeply and contemplated her next move: should she venture across the street and ring the bell or hop the next bus and return to the safety of her apartment? She wagered this inner battle for a short while before she decided.
I've never been afraid before, she thought. Wait, strike that. I've been scared a lot, but fear is not going to rule my life anymore.
She nodded as if to emphasize this and squared her shoulders before marching across the street and ringing the buzzer.
Immediately, a voice crackled through the buzzer: "Stairway to Heaven Dance Studio. How may I help you?"
Maria cleared her throat and stammered into the box. "I...I...I'm here for the 7:30 Salsa class."
"Yes, of course," came the perky reply. "Let me buzz you in."
The buzzer sounded and the lock clicked, allowing Maria to open the door. She looked at the three flights of wooden stairs stretched out before her.
"Now I see why they call it Stairway to Heaven," she chuckled, grabbing hold of the railing bolted to the wall as she began her climb.
Thankfully, there was a landing two stories up for her to pause for a moment to catch her breath. The stairs weren't really a problem for someone of her background, but it had been a while since she had climbed that degree of slope. The couple who had come in behind her also paused and their faces were flushed. The man was breathing harder than she thought was healthy.
"Wow, if I don't learn that much in class, I'll at least get my exercise climbing these stairs twice a week," he said, giving a smile.
Maria nodded and returned his smile before resuming her climb. When she got to the third floor, she was dismayed to find that beyond the door awaited yet another set of stairs. At the top was a medium sized room which appeared to have a mish mash of old theatrical furniture: overstuffed floral chairs, a leather sofa that looked to have been a fugitive from a slasher movie, and a ragged, worn Persian rug on the dusty floor. To her right was the door to the dance studio herself.
"It's now or never," she thought as she pushed the door open and walked in.
A modest number of people were already milling around in the vast room. Maria stepped aside to let the couple who had walked up with her enter. As she moved next to the wall, she took a moment to familiarize herself with her surroundings. It was another old habit from childhood--know all your exits and how to get away fast.
The room itself had the look and feel of a typical dance studio. The floor was smooth hardwood with a soft sheen, obviously worn from years of dancing. It was well cared for and seemed to have a spring in it. She figured that was to absorb and cushion the dancers' feet. Not that she had much experience or knowledge, but she read a lot and retained most everything she read, a trait that was both a blessing and a curse. Along one wall was the obligatory bank of mirrors and the portable dance bars in front of them. Two walls were covered with the huge, tall windows she had seen from the street level. They were so large that they required two rows of wooden louvered shutters. The last wall had paintings of dancers and two doors. One was marked "Dudes" and the other marked "Chicks." She assumed those were the changing rooms.
After a few moments, a woman came over and extended her hand to Maria.
"Hello and welcome to Stairway to Heaven Dance Studio."
Maria immediately recognized it as the voice of the woman who had buzzed her in. She grasped her hand and shook it warmly.
My name is Susan, but you can call me Susie. I'm the receptionist and basically Jill of all trades around here. And your name is?"
"Maria; Maria Montenegro."
"Yes, your name is on my list," Susie replied. "Please come over to the desk and I can get you signed in. Then you can get ready for class."
Maria followed her over to the desk and patiently waited while she pulled out the proper papers.
"I see that you didn't sign up with a partner."
"Is that a problem?" Maria asked nervously.
"Oh no," Susie reassured her. "No problem at all. We have quite a few people who do that. We also have couples who come to learn together for various reasons, but we also have a large group of singles.
She looked hard at Maria.
"However, one thing we're not is a dating service. If you came here looking for someone, you might as well turn around and go back down the stairs."
Maria twisted her fingers nervously.
"Oh no...actually...I...I really do want to learn Salsa. This is a gift from my dear, well meaning but delusional friends who figured I needed to get out more. That I should," she made quotation marks with her fingers, " 'tap into my inner Latin.' Whatever that means."
Susie patted her hand and smiled.
"I have friends like that too. I'm a pretty good judge of character and you strike me as an honest straightforward type."
Maria returned her smile and thought, 'If you only knew.' But instead she spoke, "Thank you."
"You see", Susie continued, "there are types and after a while you learn to spot them like bruises on an apple."
She nodded discreetly with her head, "See that group of men over there?"
Maria turned to look; careful to not make eye contact. "Yes."
"Well, the heavyset one has been here for the past two years. Still hasn't mastered the basic steps, but he pays double so.... The gentleman with the plastered down hair is a sweetheart. Unfortunately most of the women here don't look past his geekiness if you will. Oh and that one, the one spraying his mouth every few minutes with breath spray. Avoid like the plague - he trolls for women."
"What about the women?" asked Maria.
Susie rolled her eyes. "Darling, you will spot the bait from a mile away. It seems like we have a large swarm of them this class. That could be because..."
Just then the phone rang and Susie turned to answer it. She waved Maria to the dressing rooms and turned to talk.
Maria signed the paperwork, picked up her backpack, and walked towards the room marked Chicks. Sitting down on one of the benches, she kicked off her street shoes and reached into her backpack to retrieve her shoes. She slipped on her character shoes and buckled them. She then tossed her other shoes in her bag before placing it in one of the lockers, making sure the key was firmly in her jeans pocket.
She walked to the door and slipped back into the cavernous dance room, mentally thanking her friends for helping her pick out her shoes. They told her that was what all the dancers wore and she took them at their word. She also was thankful that she had spent the past two weeks wearing them a little each night to break them in. Hopefully no blisters would plague her in the morning.
Finding a seemingly inconspicuous place again, she looked over the room to see if it was safe. In her past experiences, a lot of times it wasn't. Shaking her head, she cleared it of those thoughts. Not now! I won't go there now. I'm hear to have fun - damn it. That was why Angie and Amanda had signed her up for these classes.
Her back against the wall, she perused the group of people before her, quickly looking past the gentlemen that Susie had pointed out. She smiled at the couples. Some were so into it, leaning into each other and whispering softly. Others, the men's body language screamed get me out of here - now!
Her gaze then wandered over to a group of women that Susie had told her about--the low cut blouses, the painted on jeans, the make-up that looked like it was trawled on. Their predatory interest seemed to be focused on a man whose back was to her. He was about 5'11", slight of build with dark hair cut short but just a hint of curl lazing around his ears.
The women clustered around him reminded her of the street dogs that she grew up around. The predatory sexual heat was practically oozing from their pores. She felt she could smell it from here. She wondered how he could not be aware of it, but then her sense of smell had heightened over the years.
While she was musing on these things, he laughed. It was infectious, fun-loving and down right wicked. Before she had a chance to react further, Celeste, the owner, walked slowly into the center of the room and pounded her cane on the floor.
"Attention, class it is time to get started. Find your partners and then we will begin.
great job please update soon!!!
