Dance Off by Ariel Tachna

Dance Off by Ariel Tachna

Author:Ariel Tachna [Warin, Ariel Tachna & Nessa L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2015-03-07T00:00:00+00:00


“SO TELL me what you have in mind,” Bruce said as Olivier and Tricia walked into the costume department Friday morning. Olivier liked the man. He was as down-to-earth as anyone Olivier had ever met, something Bruce chalked up to being from Iowa. Salt of the earth, no-nonsense, get the job done. And he’d gotten the job done perfectly that past couple of weeks. Olivier trusted his aesthetic implicitly already.

“Something soft and flowing for me, and something loose and airy but not overly revealing for Olivier,” Tricia said immediately.

“Not revealing?” Bruce repeated. “That’s not typical on rumba night.”

“We know,” Olivier said. Bruce’s concern was almost enough to make him reconsider, but he and Tricia had talked about this, about not making it about their bodies but about their emotions. “We did revealing for the cha-cha. We want to showcase the dancing, the emotional side of it, not my body this week.”

“And it’s not unheard of,” Tricia added. “A hint of chest, maybe down to here.” She pointed to Olivier’s breastbone about halfway down his chest. “Enough to let a sense of his power come through without focusing on it.”

“Mmm, yes, I see what you mean.” Bruce walked around Olivier once, tapping his finger on his chin. “If you don’t wear something revealing, it’ll likely stand out this week. He’ll get attention for not taking off his shirt. I can do a V-neck. Something with no collar and loose sleeves. What about the pants? Tight or loose?”

“It depends on the length of the shirt,” Tricia said. “If it’s long enough to partially cover his ass, then tight. Again, that hint of veiled power. If it’s short, then loose as well. Nobody actually needs to see those oak logs he calls legs to know how muscled they are.”

Olivier shook off the inclination to protest about being reduced to a collection of body parts, however attractive. The costume was supposed to make the most of his body, whether hidden or revealed. It was so much easier with his rugby uniform, though.

“With something long and untucked over tight pants, we can give the impression that he’s just stumbled out of bed and thrown on a shirt without showing anything to the audience. It’ll take their minds to the right place without being blatant and let the emotions of your dance do the rest. I like it.”

“Maybe something medievalesque?” Olivier suggested. “Clair de lune is not truly medieval, but it is more classical than most songs for most dances. Laces instead of buttons on the shirt, like… have you seen Cyrano de Bergerac?”

“I’m a costume designer,” Bruce replied. “Of course I have. Which version?

“The one with Gérard Depardieu. There’s a scene toward the end where Christian isn’t wearing his surcoat. A shirt like that one, maybe.”

“And the tall boots as well,” Bruce proposed. “What do you think, Tricia? Are you up for dancing with a medieval French knight?”

“Oh, I think so.” Tricia grinned as she pictured Olivier in the costume. It was a glorious image.



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