As soon as he had stopped speaking and the applause faded away, she got up and fled.
Her heart was pounding. Had Daniel’s father really stroked her thigh, or had she completely misread the situation? She had no idea, because she was definitely drunk and needed to get some fresh air.
‘Amy, what’s going on?’
She was relieved to see Daniel come out of the main hall.
‘Are you okay?’
She nodded tightly, looking down at her dress – God bless the sequins – which had covered the worst of it.
‘Wow, Washington,’ she said finally.
‘I know,’ replied Daniel. He was trying not to smile but his happiness was written all over his face. ‘I wanted to tell you in private, but I happened to speak to Dad this afternoon . . . and besides, I didn’t want to spoil Christmas.’
‘No, really. It’s great.’
‘We should go and celebrate.’
‘Not back in there, though. Not at that table,’ she said quietly.
‘You have to ignore them,’ he said.
‘They hate me.’
‘They don’t hate you. They’re just a bit old-fashioned.’
‘Old-fashioned? Daniel, they were just rude. Rude about what I do, rude about my ambitions . . .’
‘I didn’t know it was a tango.’
‘Don’t say you have a problem with it.’
‘My mother went about it in the wrong way . . .’
‘But you agree with her,’ said Amy, trying to read between the lines.
‘Come on, leave it, lighten up.’
‘Lighten up! This is my career, Daniel. Perhaps you could try taking it seriously for once.’
‘I do take it seriously. Very seriously. In fact you can show me your moves later,’ he said, a smile pulling at his lips.
‘You do agree with her,’ she replied, flinching. ‘You think it’s slutty.’
‘Amy, come on . . .’
‘Admit it,’ she said, feeling her hands shake.
‘No, I don’t think a tango show is slutty,’ replied Daniel slowly. ‘But you’ve got to admit it is pretty racy, and maybe . . .’
‘Maybe what?’
He hesitated.
‘Maybe you should think about whether you want to be seen performing in something like that.’
She shook her head in disbelief.