Page 42 of Easy Rumba

Chapter 19

Elise

“Izzy, dinner will be in five minutes,” I shout out as I scoot past Leo, who’s opening a bottle of wine. We’ve earned it today. Jive is probably the hardest dance I’ve ever done. It’s been a couple weeks since we got the thirty, and a small mishap with my footing last week led to a twenty-nine for the Viennese waltz. Part of me was devastated as I loved that dance and the song that accompanied it. But as Leo said, you have to brush these things off and move onto the next one. At least I get to show a bit more of my mad side this week. We’re dressing up in eighties clothing for Elton John’s, ‘I’m Still Standing’. It’s fun, but as I said before, exhausting. I swear my legs are about to fall off they hurt so much.

“Here you are.” Leo hands me the glass, and I take a sip.

“Perfect. Thank you.”

“What are we eating tonight?”

“Nothing special, biscuits and gravy. I fancied something filling.”

“I can go with that. I’ll give you a workout later to get rid of the calories.” Leo winks at me.

“Seriously, I’ve been thoroughly worked out all day.” I wave him away with the gravy spoon.

“I didn’t mean a dance workout.”

My cheeks heat. Even though we told Izzy about our relationship on the night of the rumba dance, we’re still keeping it quiet from everyone else as we don’t want to share it yet. However, Leo is staying over a lot, so I’m sure the press will discover it soon enough. All I care about is whether Izzy is happy with Leo being here, and she’s told me she loves it.

“I swear you have a one track mind,” I tease Leo.

“I told you I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Shaking my head, I ignore him and dish up our meal.

“Izzy, dinner, come and wash your hands.”

A few seconds later, my daughter walks in through the kitchen door. She looks confused.

“What’s wrong?” I ask while placing her and Leo’s plates on the table.

“Why is Dad…Simon on the television?”

It’s her choice not to call her father, Daddy, and normally she’s fine with it, but when I look more closely at her, she’s shaking. Leo places his glass of wine down on the table and heads into the lounge while I comfort my daughter.

“Izzy, what’s wrong?”

“Elise! Get in here,” Leo shouts, and holding Izzy’s hand tightly, I rush into the lounge.

I’m shaking now, the hairs on my body standing up on end. What has Simon done now?

Leo looks at me as I walk into the room. He’s lost all the color from his face. He points toward the TV, and my eyes look to see Simon there on the screen, but it’s the man next to him who captures my attention more. He’s not a man I’ve seen in a long time, but his features are distinctly similar to Leo’s. Mainly because they are father and son.

“Mr. Westwood. Please can you explain in detail what you saw that night?” An interviewer asks. I think it’s one of the news channels. Izzy has been watching them a lot lately as part of a school project about news events.

Leo’s father, Tony, looks toward Simon and then back to the interviewer.

“It was horrible, Bill. I still can’t get the sight out of my mind. My wife and my best friend were in bed together. Having sex while my son slept in the next room.”

I should be covering Izzy’s ears and removing her from the room, but I’m too stunned at what I’m hearing. Leo slumps down onto the nearest chair.

“Can I just clarify for the audience—your wife is Sofia Westwood, and you are both the parents of the professional dancer and man of the moment, Leo Westwood,” the interviewer continues.

“Yes, that’s correct. Although I have to question whether he’s even my son after what I saw that day. Looking at him you can tell he’s Spanish, but I don’t think he looks anything like me,” Leo’s father continues, and I lead Izzy to the chair next to Leo, and sitting down, I take his hand.

“I’m sure that’s a point we can discuss later, but for now, let’s establish the facts. Can you give me more details on your best friend?”

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