Page 2 of Watch Me

Kristoff’s fiasco puts all that in jeopardy.

Not only that, I’ll have to contend with the judgmental stares of my father and my brothers: a former champion weightlifter, an Olympic sprinter, a world-class decathlete, and a pro football player, respectively. They’ve never said they’re disappointed, but I know what they’re thinking. Their judgment is a hulking weight on my shoulders. I’m a failure in their eyes because I’ve neverbeen a champion. And by their definition, ballroom dancing isn’t even a sport.

This year, I intended everything to be different. I wanted to prove that I could win. Instead, it looks as if I’ll be proving them right once and for all.

Where is Kristoff, damn it? I have questions, and that Russian better have answers. He must know his recent jaunt to that damn sex club, Sneak Peek, will haunt us. I warned him. Clearly, he didn’t heed a word.

When the door of my small dressing room bursts open, Kristoff glides in. The graceful bastard moves like glass, especially on the dance floor. “Three minutes, Shanna. Are you ready?”

When he holds out his hand to me, that’s usually my cue to take it and follow his lead.

Not tonight.

“To beat the hell out of you, yes!” I snatch up the flash drive and shake it in his face. “Did your brain fall into your pants? Why didn’t you wait to get your jollies until after the California Dance Star?”

He frowns. “What do you speak of?”

“Your recent threesome at that sex club.”

Kristoff’s polished smile dissolves. “I was just, um, how do you say, blowing off a little steam. You know about that?”

“Someone filmed you and sent me the footage. Full color, high quality, great sound. No question it’s you, near a sign that said Sneak Peek.”

He pales. “No.”

“Yes. It also came with a note informing me that if we compete in the California Dance Star, they’ll distribute the clip to all the judges. And we’ll have no chance in hell of winning then. You know that.”

He curses, a popular Anglo-Saxon syllable that starts with an F. I shake my head. He already did that, thanks so much.

“I agreed to take you as my partner for two reasons: You’re an amazing dancer, and you’re driven. I thought you were discreetly gay. Gay, the judges can handle. Discreetly gay, even better. Clearly, I was wrong.”

Kristoff flushes. “I am, um…equal opportunity when it comes to sex.”

“And that’s fine. I don’t care what you do in your private life as long as it’s private. But if the judges see this footage, none of our hard work or talent will matter to them.”

“One minute!” someone shouts from the hall.

Squatting, I peer into the mirror at my dressing table, secure a pin holding back a lock of my pale blond hair, then smooth a hand down the silver sequins of my tiny costume. God, I feel sick to my stomach. All the years of sacrifice and work…gone.

“We have to go.” No matter how upset I am, I won’t skip out on a charity event. “Or we’ll be late.”

“Stop! We must talk about this. Winning is important to me, too, and?—”

“Champions aren’t late.”

“This is a charity event, not a competition. And your dance card is empty, is it not?”

Ouch! I lift my chin, despite his low blow. “Not the point. People are still watching.”

“Must you be so driven? Enjoy life a little.”

“I enjoy it more when I’m winning.”

“Except for dance, you have no life. When did you last go on a date?”

“Are you keeping track?”

“I grow tired of your so-serious attitude. Maybe you need to go to Sneak Peek and um, how do you say, let loose like me.”

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