To Die For - Davidson King Page 0,4
this class was more about trying to get these kids to gain some discipline while expelling energy than it was about creating future Rockettes.
The next few minutes were chaos while parents got their kids’ tap shoes on. They all stood in their spots and waited. I knew what they were waiting for, and when the parents placed their hands on their ears, I smiled.
“Okay, kiddos, you have thirty seconds to…” I held up my hand, loving how they froze, eyes wide and waiting. “Tap it out.” At that, they went crazy with their dancing. Like a bunch of rabid, slightly drunk jumping beans. It never failed to crack me up.
The rest of the class was spent trying to get them to shuffle and at the same time, work on step-heel and heel-step. It didn’t go so well, but by the time the parents were packing them up, they were exhausted. I knew I’d worn them out, and some nice naps were in their future.
Not all my classes were silly and non-serious; I had a class later in the afternoon that was classic ballet and tonight, a salsa class. Like I said, we ran a very diverse studio. If you had something you wanted to learn, we had a way of teaching it. Alexandra and I had recitals coming up in the next few months, so those classes were at times more stressful, as dancers were trying their hardest to nail routines. But I loved what I did. Lord knew I’d sacrificed everything and sold my soul to the devil to get to where I was today.
Chapter Three
Max
The storage room at Joker’s Sin was like my lair. Since I ran the bar and controlled inventory, I had to not only know how much came in but where it was all located. There was an art to what I did. Barrels, bottles, cans, and anything else related to the bar were catalogued and controlled.
I’d always wanted to be a bartender. When I was growing up, my father had advised me to have a job that would be respectable. He used to tell people I’d be a lawyer because I argued all the time. When I got a science kit for Christmas one year, I found I loved mixing liquids and seeing what they did. So he thought I’d be a chemist or something. But when Teresa got a baking kit and I had my science stuff, I found I loved making tasty drinks. I told my dad one day I wanted to be a drink-maker for a living. He laughed and rolled his eyes.
Atlas gave me the luxury of inventing my own drinks, which I loved. I was not only a good bartender; I was the best. People often said I was conceited, but I was confident. I knew how to make unique drinks and after doing it for so long now, I never even had to measure. I knew every formula in my bones.
“I love working here, but I’m glad to be off for the next two days,” Shane said as he carried in a keg and placed it on the correct bottom shelf.
“You’ve been working your ass off—you deserve it.” I patted him on the back, and he shot me a shy smile. He’d once worked at Vick’s Tricks with Toby. Vick, the owner, had been a nasty man hellbent on destroying Atlas and Joker’s Sin.
Vick used Toby as an instrument to do it and when Vick pushed too far, Atlas pushed harder. In the end, Vick’s Tricks crumbled to the ground…literally, and a pissed-off mobster made Vick disappear and the nightmares end. Shane, needing a place to work, was hired here, and he fit perfectly with us. But whenever I complimented him on a job well done, it was like he wasn’t used to it. He was a good guy, so I made sure to always make him feel appreciated.
“What’re your plans on your days off?” We stepped out and I locked up the room.
“I wish I could say I would be sleeping, but I’m actually moving.”
I turned toward him, eyes wide in surprise. “You’re moving?”
His gray eyes sparkled, and under the fluorescent lights of the hallway, his red hair appeared brighter than usual. “Not far, just a better apartment. Working here, I’m able to afford a nicer place in a safer area.”
“Nice.” We walked back onto the floor of Joker’s Sin. It wasn’t open yet, and Shane was getting ready to leave for his time off. “You need