Neither was Otis, though he had certainly improved.
But what they had and a lot of the other dancers didn’t were the gymnastic skills. In a group dance, nothing topped off a routine like the perfect back tuck Otis just did.
It was probably the reason this crew recruited Brianna.
Tino wasn’t sure about her dancing, but he’d seen firsthand that, like Otis, she was very physical and limber and had a whole collection of tricks in her gymnast bag that could be impressive in a routine and make a crew look really good for a competition.
But damn, these dancers were good.
Very good.
Tino was sorta hoping Brianna could do a back tuck like Otis, because if she couldn’t, her dancing was gonna have to be on point.
Well, if she flaked on it, she could always try out for cheerleading with Carina.
They called Brianna first, and Otis explained they always went from youngest to oldest, to help the younger dancers with their nerves rather than making them wait longer.
Except Brianna didn’t walk up like the youngest dancer.
She didn’t look nervous.
She wasn’t blushing like she did on the train.
She just pulled down the brim of Tino’s Yankees hat and lowered her head as she stood there in the center of all these kick-ass dancers. Then someone pushed Play, and the low, distinctive thump of “Let Me Blow Ya Mind” came on.
And it was the perfect song.
Brianna blew his mind.
She didn’t use one gymnastic trick.
She didn’t need them, because…
“Damn,” Otis whispered next to him. “Your girl can move.”
Her moves were fluid, and so smooth she was actually blending them seamlessly to the music. Brianna was beyond a doubt born to dance. It was sort of like listening to Carina sing for the first time that night in the shower. She had a talent, an undeniable, innate talent that others like Tino could do a lot of dumb pet tricks trying to mimic, but they couldn’t really touch.
For the first time since last night, the constant replay of Mary stopped in his mind. The only thing he could see was Brianna, dancing in front of all these talented people like she knew she was better.
Tino grew up in a family that was extremely competitive. He was raised to appreciate hard work, to admire the sheer athleticism of her movements, but what was unique to Tino was how much he enjoyed the beauty of it. The way he felt like she was dancing for him, because he saw the way she glanced over, as if searching for his approval… Or maybe it was in his imagination.
Maybe he just needed to know he fucking mattered to someone.
When she was done, Tino was the first one to shout in appreciation.
Others threw their shoes and hats, and Tino followed suit. Tino’s sneaker might have been lost in the sea of hats and shoes as Brianna stood there, the blush back now that the job was done, but she picked up Tino’s shoe like it was the only one she noticed.
Then she came over, crawling on her hands and knees between the people in front of them as they all patted her back. Her cheeks were still flushed, her forehead glinted with sweat, but her smile was wide and bright, making her green eyes sparkle under the studio lights.
She handed him his shoe and asked, “Better than cable?”
“Much better.” He nodded and found that he was fighting tears. “Thank you.”
“You got this,” Otis assured her.
“It was awesome,” Carina agreed as Brianna sat down between Carina and Otis. “Tino didn’t blink the whole friggin’ time.”
Brianna looked past Otis and gave Tino another pleased smile. “Maybe you’ll try out when you get your cast off. Then it’ll be my turn not to blink.”
“Maybe I will,” Tino agreed, even if he knew his life probably wasn’t going to give him time for a dance team. “I’ll find a way,” he said more to himself than her.
He had to find a way, because so far, seeing Brianna dance was the only thing he found that made him feel like there was a reason to keep breathing.
Chapter Nineteen
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?” Tino snapped as he sat next to Nova in the Camaro, making the long drive into Manhattan to see Romeo.
“You can’t try out for a dance team.” Nova spit out the words like they were toxic. “It’s just not something our people do.”
“Our people?” Tino repeated. “We dance. You dance. Romeo was a friggin’ stripper.”
“I’m talking about Cosa Nostra. We’re not in Harlem anymore. We dance to amuse ourselves. We dance to get women. We don’t get up on a stage and hop around to entertain.”
“Frank Sinatra entertained. The old man has pictures of him all over the palace in Bensonhurst.”
“Frank Sinatra worked for us,” Nova said simply. “He entertained us. Not the other way around. The old man is never gonna agree to you going up onstage with his last name and performing for people. Why do you think they won’t let Carina take lessons? Morettis don’t perform. Wiseguys definitely don’t perform.”