He was a patient and funny teacher, despite having spent the previous six hours practicing with Florence. My main flaw as a partner, he joked, was my tendency to "strangle" him "to death." To prepare for the next morning, he told me to watch a video we'd shot as we practiced. I danced around my hotel room until 1 a.m., my eyes glued to that video. I was feeling pretty confident by Sunday morning — until I swapped my sneakers for 3-inch heels. Then the pressure of having to perform the whole dance in just two takes made me panic. The clock was ticking; Corky had to get back to Florence. Showtime, cameras rolling! I'm dancing, I'm rushing, I'm losing count, I'm tripping, I'm...on the floor. Humiliation! Okay, I got that over with. Take two: Corky looks me in the eye, takes my hand, and with a bounce we're off, kicking, twirling, dancing, dipping. I did it! The video crew applauds. Corky hugs me. I feel elated. I've just done something I was afraid to do. Thank you, Corky, for my Cinderella moment.
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