Although my agent insisted I dance this one waltz, I was dreading this meeting. I found myself late because I was literally dragging my feet. I kept asking myself, “what could Corinne possibly do for my career, or me?” and each time I posed the question, I walked slower and slower, almost poised to run in the opposite direction. I was reluctant to meet the fabulous Mademoiselle Corinne, star of the Cafe D’Paris! I entered the club by the side door entering the restaurant area. Once my eyes got accustomed to the very dim light I looked around, but couldn’t see anyone except the act practicing on the lit stage. I found the bartender setting up and asked him if Mademoiselle Corinne had arrived yet. He indicated, with his chin, a table in the gloom. I couldn’t see anyone, so walked in the direction he pointed, avoiding tables topped with chairs. As I got closer I saw someone seated with their feet tucked under them. This person looked like a whipped pup, arms around her knees, reaching to sip from a teacup. As I got closer she looked unwell, her face incredibly wan. Could this be my elegant rival? I had my doubts! Ready for the trial dance I asked her, “Are you up to trying that waltz?” I didn’t believe she was up to it, obviously sick with a terrible cold, but she said, “Why don’t you change while I check with the piano player and see when we can use the stage. I’ll give it my best try,” coughed, and then smiled again. I went back to the dressing room and changed into my dance trousers, shirt and shoes. I couldn’t help but wonder how my beautiful diva had turned into the little match girl, tattered sweater, old workout pants, and all. My expectations of this dance had drastically changed. I no longer felt threatened and would be happy if we just got through this one dance. I shook my head no; I didn’t think this dance partnership would go anywhere. When I came back to the table Corinne said we would be the next act, the piano player had the music and was ready. The act performing finished. As we walked up to the stage she shed her sweater, stretched her arms toward me, and the music began. It was an unrecognizable waltz, Viennese in nature, surprisingly well played on the piano. She let me lead her from the edge to the center of the stage. I took her hand and held her in the typical waltz stance. She fell neatly in my arms and we began. Round and round we went gliding to the music. When the tempo changed, she left my arms to do a solo. I stood poised, frozen in place, amazed at what I was seeing. It was like she was dancing on air, moving like a feather in the breeze. When she returned to me she embraced me and we shared an intimacy that I still have no words for. The music changed, slow and passionate; we rocked back and forth to the rhythm in perfect harmony. The music resumed its original, traditional waltz tempo, and we twirled round and round again. When the music ended we paused in an embrace. Breathless, we had been lost in the music, in the dance, in each other. I didn’t want to let her go. The music had stopped playing; but we continued to hold the embrace, the passion not allowing us to part, giving us a few moments to process the magic we just experienced. With a hint of embarrassment we realized we were still intertwined. The emotion was as intense as a sexual interlude; sweet, intoxicating. Dancing together, we experienced breathless passion, hot, fervent, and intimate. Once more I questioned myself, “How could this be?” We had never practiced together before, but that didn’t matter. Somehow it was perfect. On the dance floor we had one mind and one body. I can only tell you that dancing with Corinne was like nothing I had ever experienced before. We had achieved a true oneness, passion for the dance having joined us. We danced together in perfect harmony, with passion. The dance was flawless, the fire and fervency very real; and it consumed me for the short time we waltzed. Dancing for me blends my experience, and expertise and love of the dance, but for the first time it involved much, much, more. She had stolen my heart and my passion for the dance by magically blending mine with hers. I don’t know how it happened, it just did. In that waltz we had mingled our expertise and commitment to the dance. There was richness, a texture beyond a mere waltz. It was something you could see, feel and almost touch, but yet it was elusive. As I reached for it, it became a mere vapor, leaving a telltale, almost invisible trail. It happened right then and there as we finished, surrendered to each other. We stood intertwined, a pureness; an unadulterated intensity of love flooded my senses. The moments we were sealed in the final embrace seemed like an eternity filled with passion. Oh... My... God! I never wanted this feeling to end. I didn’t want to let her go because I had been transported to heaven. I now knew what heaven would be like. Perfection! I was in love, truly in love, with the dance and the dancer, Mlle. Corinne.
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