Chapter 76

Krupsky and his wife are there in front of the dance studio when we arrive. They look like two little elves all dressed in their finest clothes. “Didn’t think you’d have the guts to come, Krupsky,” I say, and he smiles away, giving Mary a wink. “You’ve met Mary and Muller,” I say. “This is my daughter, Judy.”

“Very nice to meet you, Judy,” Krupsky says, doing a slight bow. “My wife, Emma. Are you ready to be dazzled, Sam?”

“We’ll see who dazzles.”

“Lead the way.” We get inside and I introduce them to Silvio and Carmen. “A pleasure,” Krupsky says. “My wife and I spent many pleasant years in Buenos Aires. Sam says you’re quite the dancers.”

“He’s very kind,” Silvio says. “I hope we measure up to what you’ve seen in Buenos Aires. Come, we’ll get started.” Silvio assembles all the couples out on the floor. Krupsky leads Emma by the hand like she’s royalty while Judy rubs Muller’s back.

“Stop looking so smug,” I say to Krupsky. The music starts and Krupsky goes into a stance, tilting Emma slightly. Their bodies lock, Krupsky brings her forward, elbows out, feet sliding into position. Then they’re off, around the room, little legs practically flying. Everyone turns and watches. Even Silvio and Carmen are staring. Krupsky flows like a river, taking a spin around the eddy. He’s a virtuoso and a bloody show-off. He glides close to Carmen, giving her a wink and she claps her hands. “Olé,” she says.

“Sam, they’re wonderful,” Mary says.

“Bloody hell.”

“I thought you’d be pleased.”

“I was calling his bluff.”

“Look—he’s trading with Muller.”

Krupsky has Judy in a promenade hold. He barely comes up to her shoulders, but they swirl and glide, dipping, touching toes. At the end of the song, Krupsky goes over and asks Carmen to dance. Silvio stands at the side, looking half amused and half amazed. Krupsky dances right by him, eyes half closed in bliss. On the next song, Silvio guides Krupsky’s wife out on the floor. Krupsky and Carmen pass by, then Silvio and Emma. They step, turn, and bend, all in a fluid motion.

On the next number, they exchange partners again, Silvio and Carmen do a dance step that takes them right across the floor. Krupsky and Emma follow, their little legs going like crazy. We all clap at each pass, gasping when Krupsky dips Emma and brings her up again. Silvio takes out a handkerchief. It’s perfectly folded and monogrammed. He dabs his forehead, puts it back in his pocket, and starts again. Krupsky directs Emma over towards Silvio. “Magnifico!” he calls out. When the music stops, both couples bow, holding up their hands. They come off the dance floor.

“You were wonderful,” Mary says to the Krupsky and Emma.

“Thank your husband,” Krupsky says.

“Stop looking so damn smug,” I say.

“Smug?” Krupsky shrugs. “Who’s smug?”