"I'm going to regret this," she muttered. She picked up the phone and called.
"Mr. Scott's office."
"This is Cali Brooks. I accept, but on my terms."
The next day, she was in his office signing a contract she had written herself. Henry read every line carefully and signed without complaint.
"There," he said, offering his hand. "We're partners."
Cali shook his hand firmly. "We're teacher and student, nothing more."
He smiled. "Whatever you say, teacher."
The first lesson was set for the next day at a private dance studio Henry had rented. Cali arrived on time wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. Henry was in a suit.
"You're going to dance in a suit?" she asked, incredulous.
"I always wear suits."
"Then you'll learn to dance in one. Good luck with that."
She turned on the music and started teaching the basic steps. Henry tried to follow, but he was clumsy, stiff, clearly used to giving orders, not taking them.
"Relax your shoulders," Cali instructed.
"They are relaxed."
"They look like an ironing board."
Henry groaned. "Are you always this gentle with your students?"
"Only with the ones who pay well," she replied, smiling.
They kept going. Henry stepped on her foot twice. On the third time, Cali stopped the music.
"Are you mad at the music or at me?"
"Neither," he replied, annoyed.
"Then why are you dancing like you're stomping ants?"
He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "I'm not good at this, okay?"
"I noticed," she said, crossing her arms. "But if you don't relax, you're going to keep being terrible."
Henry stared at her. "Are you always this blunt?"
"Always. It's part of the deal."
He let out a short laugh. "At least you're honest."
Cali gave a half smile. "Now go back to step one, and this time try not to kill my foot."
The lesson continued, tense but intriguing. They argued with every move, but something was starting to shift. Henry, who was used to being in control, felt completely thrown off by Cali. And she, in turn, was starting to notice that maybe he wasn't just arrogance in a suit.
In the middle of a turn, Henry lost his balance and fell straight to the floor. Cali stopped, surprised. Then she started to laugh—loudly, unable to stop. Henry, now red, also began to laugh.
"That was ridiculous," he admitted.
"It was hilarious," she corrected, still laughing.
For the first time, they laughed together.
But then Henry's phone rang. He looked at the screen and his face changed completely. "Excuse me," he said, walking out of the room.
Cali was left alone, curious. She leaned near the door and caught bits of the conversation: "Clara, I already told you that... No, that's not how... Clara, stop."
Cali frowned. Clara? Who is Clara?
She spent the whole night thinking about that name. Clara. Who was this woman? A girlfriend? A business partner? An annoying relative? The curiosity was eating her up, but she knew she couldn't just ask. Henry Scott wasn't the kind of man who opened up easily.
The next day, she walked into the studio determined to find out. Henry was already there looking at his phone, his face as closed off as a locked door.
"Good morning, teacher," Cali greeted with irony.
He barely looked up. "Good morning."
Cali frowned. Where was the man who laughed with her yesterday? All that was left was the cold, distant robot in a suit.
"Everything okay with you?" she asked, dropping her bag on the floor.
"Perfectly fine," he answered, still not looking at her.
"Oh, sure. You look like a ray of sunshine."
Henry finally looked up, his gaze cold. "Can we start the lesson, please?"
Cali crossed her arms. "Of course, sir. Let's do it then."
She turned on the music and started teaching the steps. But Henry was completely off. His steps were too heavy, his grip too tight, and it felt like he was fighting the music instead of dancing with it.
"Henry, relax," Cali asked, trying to stay patient.
"I am relaxed."