Page 7 of Lights, Camera, Love

Mum needs help managing money, I know that. But she shouldn’t have had to face the costs and pressures of raising a child alone. Neither of us should have had to do this alone.

The neon-yellow sign that spells ‘DANCELAB’ emerges through the canopy of trees lining the inner-city street. I take the first left down an alley towards my secret parking space and reset my mind to its happy place.

My elation over winning the role inMovingis back to being fully charged when I stroll into the graffiti-coated building that houses DanceLab. I head into Rafael’s studio, finding him alone beside the mirror, hisblack-tipped fingernails swiping up his phone screen. I pace over to him and his face flies up.

‘Hey, you,’ he says as I wrap my arms around his neck. ‘Ooh. Someone’s feeling affectionate today.’

I pull back, biting down on a smile. ‘I have favours to ask.’

His tongue curls over its pierced tip. ‘You want to know if you can take me out for sushi and sake after this?Fine, if it’s absolutely necessary.’

My smile widens. ‘You’re on. Especially if you say that I can take a couple of weeks off soon?’

Surprise flashes in his jet-black eyes. ‘Sure. Sebastian keeps asking for more work anyway. You’re not going somewhere magnificent without me, are you?’

‘Are cows and paddocks considered magnificent?’

Rafael makes an aghast face. ‘Only if there’s a hot farmer involved. Wait—are you considering starting up an OnlyFarms? Because I looked up the URL years ago and it was taken.’

I laugh. ‘It’s doubtful. Although, the wordploughingwould feature nicely in the marketing.’

He grins. ‘The ads would write themselves. What about something like … sowing seeds?’

I snicker. ‘Being woken up by a cock?’

‘Getting the milking done with a nice, tight squeeze?’

My head hangs. ‘Too far, Rafa, too far.’

He cackles, and I clutch onto his arm.

‘No, my friend,’ I say. ‘I’ve just been cast in a feature film, which will be shooting on a farm out of town.I’ll be staying there for two weeks. It’s a major movie that’s being directed by Harold Winter’s nephew. I’m playing the female lead—a dance teacher.’

Rafa looks on the verge of an aneurysm, his fingers strangling my wrists. ‘Stop it.’

‘Definitely won’t!’ I squeal. ‘It’s also a romance, and my co-star is going to be’—I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, drawing out the big reveal—‘Austin Reynolds.’

His jaw drops. ‘Shut. The. Fuck. Up.’

A laugh pushes through my lips as the first arrivals for Rafael’s salsa class begin trickling into the studio.

‘You need to tell meeverything,’ he says, pulling me close as if we’re sharing state secrets. ‘Let’s talk over sushi later. I also fell in love with a sexy-ass radiographer last night, and I need to tell you all about it.’

‘What?’ I beam at him.

He nods with a dopey grin and backs away. ‘I’m ticked that you stole my thunder with this Austin Reynolds news.’

I chuckle as Rafael hits play on a Latin track with a sick beat; I do a funky little air-walk out the door and into my studio.

I greet a few of my waiting regulars, then catch sight of a tall, broad figure sitting on the bench, bending to tie a shoelace.

Oh no.

Groucho straightens and glances in my direction, our gazes bumping together. Just as I go to offer a politesmile because I can’t help myself—sulking is just not in my nature—he turns to shrug off his charcoal bomber jacket. His fingers comb through his muss of honey-brown hair, his eyes now pointed everywhere but at me. At the person he’s mettwicenow.

Honestly. Is he socially inept?

‘Hi,Kye. It’s good to see you again,’ I practically coo as I sweep past him. Just because he lacks basic manners—which may be for medical reasons, for all I know—doesn’t mean I have to be rude.

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