Polly.
She lifted her chin. ‘We’ve got the lemons. Let’s go make lemonade. With a sparkly swizzle stick in it.’
Shona patted her shoulder. ‘Attagirl.’
Six hours later, Polly was back in her flat, making a list of the last few things she needed to cancel for the wedding and answering concerned emails from friends with the minimum of details. Even if she didn’t get the Ballroom Glitz job, at least she had great hair. Enrique had somehow managed to transform Polly’s appalling scissor-job into an urchin cut that made her look like a blonde Audrey Hepburn, all eyes. And in any case the audition had been good practice, reminding her of the skills she needed to brush up on for the future. Today had been a good day. And Polly Anna Adams had spent half a lifetime living up to her name. The tougher the going, the brighter her smile. She’d learned to look on the bright side and ignore the difficult stuff. And the strategy worked.
All the same, when the phone rang, she let it go through to the answering machine. She wasn’t in the mood for sympathy, no matter how well-meaning. Dwelling on things and crying about it wasn’t going to make Harry change his mind. Or make her feel better.
‘Sweetie, I know you’re there. Pick up,’ Shona said.
Polly didn’t.
There was a sigh. ‘All right, do it your way. But I’ll be over at ten tomorrow to drag you off to the wardrobe department at the studio. Because you, my clever girl, got the job.’
Polly sat down as the news sank in.
She’d got the job. On Ballroom Glitz.
And, although one door had slammed very firmly in her face, another one felt as if it had just opened. One that could lead her to a whole new world.
‘See you at ten. And have the kettle on,’ Shona said, and hung up.
Two years. How the world could change in two years. Even in one, Liam thought. This time last year, he’d lost everything. His career, his marriage, his home, his dreams. All the experts had said he’d never dance again. But he’d fought to prove them all wrong. Even when his body was screaming for him to stop, he’d pushed himself that little bit further each time, until he could walk again. Until he could dance again.
Every second of agony had been worth it, because now he was back on Ballroom Glitz, teaching celebrities to dance on the show and choreographing the routines for the professional dancers. Getting his name back out there.
It still rankled that he had to prove himself all over again, but moaning about it wouldn’t get him back to the top. Only sheer hard work would do that. He just needed to focus and remember the lesson burned into his heart: the only person he could rely on was himself.
Thankfully Bianca wasn’t one of the female professional dancers on the team, so that was one less reminder of the past. Half the professional dancers were new, people he hadn’t come across before as part of his job; those he did know and had worked with before had given him lots of sympathetic glances, but to his relief they hadn’t said anything about the accident or the wreck of his marriage. They’d simply welcomed him back.
So which of the four celebs was going to be his partner? The comedienne wasn’t particularly light on her feet, which would mean he’d need to be very careful with any lifts; he really couldn’t afford any more damage to his back. Plus her wisecracks seemed to be constant; he could do without that kind of irritation. He wanted someone who’d take this seriously. Someone who’d be prepared to put in the hours it’d take to make them win. The model and the pop singer both moved well—as he’d expect, given their career choices—but both had a hardness about them that reminded him of the worst moments with Bianca.
Which left Polly Anna, the children’s TV presenter. Something about her drew him; though, from the video clips the presenter had shown of Polly’s show, that was a pretty severe—and very recent—change in haircut. In Liam’s experience, when women made a change that radical to their appearance, it meant they were upset about something. Really upset. That might affect Polly’s ability to concentrate on the choreography. Which didn’t bode well for their chances of staying in the show.
He’d just have to make the best of whoever he was teamed with. He put on a smile for the cameras as the runner cued him in, and headed out to the dance floor for the final showcase dance with the other professionals before the pairings were announced.
Which of the four male professionals would be working with her?
Polly had already talked it over with Shona and Fliss. Two of the male dancers were new, making them unknown quantities. André had been part of the show for years, but he’d always come across as a bit strict and humourless in the videos of the training sessions. Definitely not the kind of guy she’d enjoy working with.
And that left Liam Flynn.
Liam, the one she’d always liked most when she’d watched the show in the past. He’d always come across as a really nice guy, supportive and kind to his dancing partner. Plus he was very, very easy on the eyes: tall, dark and utterly gorgeous.
Except Liam had been in a serious car accident eighteen months ago, and at the time the media had claimed he’d never be able to dance again. Clearly he’d had a lot of physical therapy to get him back to this point. And, although Liam was the dancer she’d love to be teamed with, Polly couldn’t help worrying. She knew she was clumsy. What if she tripped and they fell awkwardly, and that hurt his back again, and this time his dancing was over for good?
She damped down the fears. No. She was going to work hard. She was going to beat the clumsiness. And she most definitely wasn’t going to let what had happened with Harry shred her confidence. She’d been totally professional and given her best on Monday Mash-up, and she’d do exactly the same on Ballroom Glitz.
‘And now the moment you’ve been waiting for—the official line-up,’ Millie, the glamorous presenter of the show, announced.
There was a drum roll while the dancers stood on the floor, waiting for their partners to join them, and the celebs lined the staircase.
You’re not going to trip, Polly told herself firmly. You’re not going to trip. Take it step by step. Remember to smile for the cameras.
She barely took in which male celebrity was paired with which female dancer. She felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. But then it came to the girls, and her hands went clam my.
‘And with André …’ Please, please, not me, she begged silently.
She breathed a sigh of relief as Jane, the comedienne, was announced as his partner. Mr No-Sense-of-Humour with the comic: the pairing appealed to Polly’s sense of mischief. It was exactly what she would’ve done, as a producer. What Harry would’ve done.
Forget about Harry, she reminded herself sharply. He isn’t here and he isn’t part of your life any more.
‘With Marco …’ Imogen, the model. They made a beautiful couple.
‘With Sergei …’ Her heart skipped a beat. Would it be her?
‘Lina.’ The pop singer. Another glamorous, beautiful couple. Which meant …
‘And finally, with Liam, Polly Anna Adams.’
