Chapter 3: Meaty Goodness

“So, Nio, please tell me about yourself. How does a handsome young man from Brazil become a blood-sucking lawyer in L.A.?” “To be clear, Kayla, I prefer my meat fully cooked, not bloody. May I order for you?” “Certainly.”

“My parents were well-educated, but in their area of Brazil good jobs were hard to come by. Those that did find work had to pay high kick-backs to the local politicians. So they decided to pack up and emigrate to California with their teen-aged son. That would be me, of course. My mama found work as an ESL teacher—that’s English as a Second Language—and my papa is finishing an engineering career with the L.A. Department of Water and Power.”

Nio interrupted himself to order their drinks and entrées. “In my high school years I was steered toward college, where I enrolled with a pre-law major. And my grades and test scores landed me in good schools and with enough scholarship money to finish my law degree in three years. I passed the bar exam eight years ago; so I’ve had enough time to build up a practice.

But, please, tell me why you’re schlepping papers and meals around when you could be making bank as a model?” Kayla laughed out loud. “A model? The heat’s getting to you, too, I see. Or did your school have a class on sappy pick-up lines? Lucky for you this food is so damn delicious.”

Kayla leaned back and patted her midsection. “I’m glad this dress isn’t too snug for me. Beyond the food, I like to be comfortable when I’m dancing. You said we were going dancing, right?”

“My dear, have you heard of Brazil’s Carnaval?” (Nio pronounced it with a flat “a” sound, like “father’s pal.”) “It’s the largest party in the world with millions of Brazilians dancing the samba in the streets, wearing the most skimpy yet elaborate costumes. It would be a stain on my honor to skip dancing with you tonight. I will help you relax and enjoy yourself!”

Back in his car, Nio said, “Let’s stop by my office for a 10-minute coaching session. That’s all we need. Then we’ll go on to the club where I can show you off properly.”

At his office, the rug was rolled away so they could dance on the hardwoods. “I’m going to stand behind you and hold your hips. Take a step backwards and bounce twice on that back foot, then put your feet back together. Then do the same with the other foot. Just keep doing that in rhythm until it feels automatic.”

“That’s it?” “Yes, you’re a natural. I’m coming around to your front. Keep your eyes on me. When you want, you can move around by placing your feet differently. But keep your weight on your back foot. Very good.”

“You’re ready! I’m going to put on some music and we will dance together, OK?” “Sure, this is fun!”