Muscle Memory

🕺PROLOGUE💃

She hopped off the cab, held to the strap of her bag, after adjusting her scarf to ward a little of the December chill, and walked on with a skip to her steps.

Grace was simply elated. if 'simply' would explain total, complete, entire happiness-then yes, she simply was. She smiled back at the man at the entrance, "bonjour" she replied his greetings.

Radisson Biu Hotel welcomed her through its wide reception where many Christmas lights shone from many angles competing with the bright smiles of the ever courteous receptionists and staff.

Inside the elevator, a man was holding a baby girl, the pretty girl slurred in languages only she understood, but the man smiled and cooed at her. Grace smiled at the baby who cocked her head comically then burst into peals of laughter. Her mortified father made a placatory gesture with his hand. They got to seventh floor, the man left, so should she.

But she looked for a moment at the bag she held and concluded, the costume was best delivered to Dave tonight. It could wait, since the dance was not until till the next evening and her off-the-book samba routine rehearsal had left her a bit sore. She needed time to rest her head-possibly after long hours in the bathtub- and sleep till she would wake then hit practice with Dave the next morning, perfecting a samba routine to the temptations' 'I can't get next to you.'

She punched the button nevertheless. When the elevator dinged, she was unsure whether she should leave and follow through, or just get herself back to room 710. A part of her reprimanded her for collecting the package for him, Dave could just walk into the dressing room tomorrow and find them. He would be late for practice, as usual, but the little time they've spent wrestling in this snake pit had taught her that Dave wasn't just exceptional in looks and body, but in mind. That's the only way he's been able to pull all his stunts. He was never left behind, which sometimes made her feel intimidated and frustrated when he lets it get to his head. But both had come a long way from a school in Lagos, to the international grounds in Cote d'Ivoire, and who knows if worldwidd prominence was somewhere within reach?

For a brief mischievous moment, her mind wondered to a certain night. She reprimanded herself, it was one time that shouldn't mean anything. But doesn't it?

She stepped out, breath in and walked down the hall. Room 924. She knew where to go. He'd brought her there before, the moment he got the song sent to his e-mail, he was eager for her to hear it first and say what she thinks.

Dave could be sweet when he wants to be, and considerate too. No one would deny that he has his charms and talents, but romance wasn't anything Grace was thinking about when she decided to sign the contract with him as partner through the entire competition. Who would deny Dave and her, a professional dance couple. All those who lost along the line must be quiet envious of them.

Dave's parent had been the financial backbone of their many endeavours, and despite their persistent that their only son turns out a doctor, they are not willing to deny him a chance at teen stardom.

There was the door, with the slot for the key card. Grace trailed a hand on the ornate designs, she knew little of doors, but she was of the opinion that this must be expensive, just like the cuisines they were constantly served, the water bed that was her heaven at night. Grace had never known how expensive hamburger could be get until she got to Radisson Biu Abidjan Airport Hotel.

She wasn't here to ruminate on how lucky she was to be hooked with a partner whose parent wouldn't mind sponsoring both to this level of this competition. No. She was here to deliver a package. She knocked on the door and waited for a reply.

None came. Dave was probably not around. Somehow that filled her with some sense of relief. She would just get in, drop the package and get the hell out.