Free Summer Flings and Dancing Dreams by Sue Watson

down’ (which looked like another full-on workout to me), I noticed people coming into the hall for the next class. God help them, I thought to myself, glad it wasn’t me.
    Then I spotted the most gorgeous hunk ever – classically tall dark and handsome, with skinny hips in tight black trousers. You don’t see men like that every day – he looked like a male model as he walked confidently through the throng of women, who were all eyeing him up openly. I spotted a couple of other men too, and they were a lot older – dear god they weren’t going to allow Martha to wage war on their pelvic floors too were they? Did men even have them? Not after a session with Martha.
    I rested my head against the wall, put my glasses back on and was able to get a better look at the hunk. He was probably in his forties, he looked very physically fit and had a lovely smile... oh god he was smiling at me! This was so unexpected, no gorgeous men ever looked in my direction, in fact, no man ever looked in my direction, gorgeous or not. I didn’t look back, he might think I fancied him and be horrified, so I went back to watching the Zumba. Oh the horror. I was just contemplating how I would get up from my position on the floor without showing everyone my thighs when I looked up to see him wandering towards me.
    ‘Hi,’ he smiled. ‘Was it you in the Zumba class... lunging quite quickly across the floor?’
    ‘Yes – that was me,’ I sighed, crossing my legs casually in an attempt to keep my torn crotch out of his eyeline. He was being polite – I did a lot more than ‘lunge quite quickly,’ I was like a juggernaut mowing them all down. I had single-handedly devastated and destroyed Martha’s zumba class.
    ‘Well, Zumba’s not for everyone,’ he said, tactfully.
    ‘It’s certainly not for me,’ I was embarrassed, I hadn’t thought about the spectators dotted around the studio who must have witnessed the whole episode.
    ‘I’m Tony...’ he said, ‘Tony Hernandez... well it’s Griffiths really but no one wants a dance teacher called Tony Griffiths.’ He was slowly kneeling down next to me.
    ‘Ahhh... you’re a dance teacher? Hi,’ I smiled, my face burning up, my knees clamped together. One false move and all would be revealed and this sex God/male model dance teacher would be faced with the horror of unleashed, middle-aged cellulite. I doubted a man like that even knew it existed, his women were probably young, firm and cellulite-free.
    ‘I just wondered... if you would be interested in coming along to my class?’
    ‘You are joking? You saw what I just did over there?’ I said, pointing vaguely in Martha’s direction.
    ‘Yes, it was bloody hilarious... would you mind if I put it on YouTube?’
    I opened my mouth but before I could speak he put up both hands in a surrendering gesture; ‘Ha, only joking...’
    I rolled my eyes. ‘Good, I hope you didn’t film any of it.’
    ‘No... it all happened too quick, I couldn’t get my phone out in time,’ he smiled.
    I was humiliated and disappointed and not really in the mood for his ‘joking’.
    ‘Look,’ he continued, clearly unable to take ‘no’ for an answer. ‘I don’t think you can come to much harm in my class, it’s far more sedate. A bit too sedate really,’ he smiled.
    ‘I don’t know, after all that I feel a bit stupid.’
    ‘I did Zumba once, nearly killed me. The only dip it low, pick it up slow I do is dipping my knife in Nutella and spreading it all over a big crust of bread.’
    ‘Did Mandy send you over?’ I said, rudely, suddenly realising this must be a wind-up.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Carole?’
    ‘I don’t know a Carole,’ he said, looking a little deflated.
    ‘Sorry, I thought someone was playing a joke on me,’ I smiled.
    ‘No... look I could see you were struggling in Zumba. But the good news is, you managed the footwork... almost. Yes you covered a lot of ground...very fast, but your footwork is quite dainty, it’s fairly tight