The Car Accident

Mirage saw Mr Rich enter the dance studio in the mirror as she finished the track with her backing dancers. It was like being stabbed in the gut with an icy blade for him to appear so unexpectedly, cheerfully greeting those in her crew that he knew from previous tours, casual and easily confident, as if he had every right to be there.

She took a drink from her water, and wiped herself off on her towel, ignoring him until he crossed the dance floor to her. “F-k off,” she told him, without looking at him. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Now, that is a bit hostile,” he replied smoothly. “You have had a bit of a bad attitude over the last twelve months, as your music demonstrates. Become a bit sour. You know what they say, sugar catches more flies than vinegar.”

“I am not interested in flies. Buzz off.”

“I am here as a favour, you would be wise to be more polite,” he leaned against the wall. “My car is out front. Join me for a meal, and we will talk business.”

She rounded on him. “You think I a