They walked into a room and Lisa flipped on the light. It was better than Andrea was expecting really. On the far wall, it had mirrors from ground to ceiling. Every dance room needed those because dancers needed to ensure their form was right. The walls were decorated in a beautiful, painted scenery.
"We have some talented kids that come in here." Lisa nodded.
"That was done by the children?"
"Two of them graduated our program. Both are doing quite well--one is entering law school next September and the other is working an internship at a newspaper in New York. The third--we couldn't save him. He was killed last June in a drive-by." A look of great loss flashed across Lisa's face. "I'm sorry," Andrea whispered. "It's always hard when you lose children."
"Yes you can get ready over there. The light switch is on the inside wall. Harm will be in soon."
Andrea remained standing where she was for a while longer, looking at the painting on the wall. It was an ingenious way to get children to use their talent. Give them something they love to do, and they would spend hours doing it. For her boys, it was soccer and art. They never did get the dancing bug from her. She smiled at that thought and entered the small room. Once she had the light on, she sat on the only chair in the room taking off her shoes and strapping her ballet slippers to her feet. She then dug through her bag for her CD. It was good to always show up with one's own music to an audition. She stripped down to her dancing gear--a long flowing white skirt, with matching tights underneath with a black tank top.
When she re-entered the room, a handsome man was leaning against the mirrored wall, his arms crossed over his massive chest.
He walked to her with a hand extended. "Harmon Gale."
Andrea shook his hand even though she felt at that instant her heart fell from her chest. His large hand swallowed hers. She had to look up into his face because he towered over her something fierce. To say Harmon Gale was handsome wouldn't fit. There had to be another word to describe him. He reminded her of the men she would see in the magazines that she used to buy at the corner store, the ones wearing Armani suits the ones that always seemed to have far away looks in their eyes. She never did understand if that was sexy or not.
Harmon had long black hair pushed back, deep green eyes and tanned skinned, like he had spent a lot of time in the sun. His full lips and chiselled face were wonderful additions to the lovely picture before her. The necklace he wore looked a bit too small for his neck and Andrea could tell a child made it. It had shells and the initials NG. His wide shoulders were covered by a graphic tee that said WWJD on the front and sloped down into thick, jeans covered thighs.
"So, you will be dancing for me today," he continued.
Nerves sprang forth again for she knew those beautiful eyes would be on her as she danced.
Dear God, how high did you make that window?