Page 47 of The Virgin's Dance
“I have the original on my computer,” he’d laughed at her but he’d promised.
“I just don’t want anyone else to have that shot. It’s us. It’s everything we have been through together.”
Pilot had already had some offers from people, but he wanted to wait until he’d shown the exhibition around the world. Boh knew Maceo Bartoli was big in the European art world, the equivalent to the Mallorys in the States, and that a world tour would be the shot of confidence that Pilot needed right now.
And she would be by his side for every single moment.
Quilla Chen Mallory was a staggeringly beautiful woman, Boh decided, and one of the loveliest people she’d ever met. When the head of the foundation arrived with her husband Jakob, she walked around the entire exhibition, arm in arm with Boh, and talked to them both about each photograph in detail. Boh watched her greet both Ori and Floriana with hugs—obviously old friends—but she still included Boh in their conversations. She introduced them to her friends from the ballet, and soon Boh felt as if she had known them for years.
Quilla, her lovely almond eyes twinkling, took Boh to one side. “Sweetheart, these photographs are astonishing. I do hope that you and Pilot continue to collaborate. I’ve never seen him so fired up. I don’t mind telling you, Grady and I were a little concerned that he’d lost his mojo over the last few years.”
“I think that was mainly the stuff going on in his private life.”
Quilla nodded, her smile fading. “Yes. I had the misfortune to meet Eugenie a few times. Vile woman. I could never figure out what he saw in her.” She squeezed Boh’s hand. “But he has the right woman now.”
She looked at the audience, all seemingly entranced by the photographs on display. “It seems to be a success.”
“And then some,” Grady said, coming up behind then with a beaming Pilot. “I’ve already heard from the critic from theTimes—major awards were mentioned. Congratulations, man. Both of you.”
Pilot put his arms around Boh, burying his face in her hair. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “This is all because of you.”
Boh shook her head. “No, baby, this is your night.”
“Our night,” he insisted and she chuckled.
“Okay,ournight.” She checked her watch. “Almost time to dance. I’d better go get ready.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Boh grinned, knowing exactly what he had in mind and as they escaped to her dressing room, Pilot locked the door and took her in his arms. Boh grinned at him as he kissed her. “Feeling frisky, Mr. Scamo?”
“You know it.”
They made love quickly in the cramped dressing room, laughing and celebrating as they did. “God, I love you, Boheme Dali.”
“You are my world, baby. My entire world.”
They tidied themselves up and Boh changed into her costume, a beautiful floating dress, made for her by Arden at the Company. It had layers of light silk which would float around her body as she danced, in various shades of blue and gray.
They walked hand in hand to the little stage and waited for Pilot to be announced by Quilla. He would make a short speech and then introduce Boh’s dance.
Quilla spoke for a few minutes, then, with a huge round of applause, Pilot walked on stage.
“Thank you, thank you. I’m overwhelmed by your kind words, and by your presence tonight. I have to be honest. I never thought I’d show again. The last couple of years, I doubted myself, my passion, even my will to carry on. That all changed six weeks ago when I met the woman in the photographs. In Boheme Dali, I found inspiration, confidence, life, and love. We truly are a partnership, something I’ve never had before. It is Boh who should take all the plaudits here, and I’m delighted to say she’s agreed to dance for us. I know that you will fall in love with her, as I have done. Ladies and gentlemen, Boheme Dali, prima ballerina.”
Boh’s eyes were full of tears as she walked on to the stage. “I love you,” she said to Pilot, who grinned and kissed her cheek.
“Knock ’em dead, baby. I love you.”
He left the stage and Boh took her position. She felt no nerves as she began to dance, her mind completely on translating her feelings for Pilot into dance. Her body felt as light as air as she danced and when she was finished, it took her a few seconds to hear the rapturous applause from the audience.
“Wow,” Quilla said, coming back onto the stage and hugging Boh. “That was so beautiful, Boh, thank you. Incredible.”
Pilot came on to take Boh’s hand and they walked back to the dressing room, unable to stop staring at each other. As Boh changed back into her dress, Pilot took her hands.
“Marry me,” he said simply, his eyes full of emotion. “I never, ever thought I’d say that to anyone ever again. I was determined not to. But finding you, Boh … I know it’s crazy fast, and if you say no, I swear, there’s no pressure …”
“Dude, chill,” Boh said, her voice shaking, grinning at the repeated moment from when he’d asked her to move in with him, “Chill.” Her voice broke. “Yes,” she said, tears dropping down her cheeks, “yes, Pilot Scamo, I’ll marry you. Of course, I’ll marry you!”
