Page 160 of Facing Off
Okay. Now we’re definitely going to go viral.
“Actually,” says Adrian, loudly enough that his voice is picked up by the microphone. “My wife is classically trained, incredibly talented, the hardest working athlete I’ve ever met, and one of the very few dancers selected to audition for Bob Pepita’s last ballet. She knows exactly what she’s talking about and has made it very clear what kind of company we want to support. Will you meet those conditions, Madame Kozlova?”
My dance mistress wrestles the microphone out of my hands.
So that’s a no.
I let her have it.
Because I’m next to Adrian Hughes. The most dramatic player in the league. And I know exactly what to do.
I hold the envelope with the check in it up and say, “If you change your mind, you can contact us. We would love to support you.”
And then I rip it in half.
A gasp ripples through the crowd. I don’t pay it any attention. Adrian’s laughing and kissing the side of my temple. Then he offers me his arm. “Shall we get out of here, Mrs. Hughes?”
“Fucking gladly.”
63
ADRIAN
Sonya’s eyesare big and dark as we get into my truck. “What I just did could burn me in so, so many ways.”
I reach over and grip her hand. Protective instincts rage through me. “I won’t let it. I’ll do anything to?—”
She presses a finger to my mouth, softly halting me. “Guess what I’m also feeling?”
“Rage,” I murmur.
My answer makes her mouth twitch. “Yeah.” She exhales. “But also relief. I don’t regret it, Adrian. I was sick of it at that moment. They wanted me to be a puppet who does what I’m told. I’m not a puppet. I’m aperson.”
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Sonya.”
And angry. It still fucking pisses me off, too. As soon as we walked into the ballroom, they tried to push her to the side as if she was better off not there.
Sonya didn’t let them.
Chest-pumping satisfaction rolls over me as I remember how she stood on that stage and stripped away all their disingenuousness. How she called out MadameKozlova and exposed the whole company, calling to question their values and integrity.
Sonya stood up not only for herself, but also, for every dancer who needs support. She demanded institutional changes, so any other ballerina who experiences the yips, doesn’t get cast aside like she did.
Fuck, I’m so awestruck by her bravery.
She shined, ripping up that check.
My whole body aches with need. All I want to do is to pull her onto my lap and whisper how incredible she is.
So I do.
Her mouth twitches again as I push the driver’s seat back as far as it goes, and lift her by the waist, until she’s on my knee and her gown spills everywhere. My body curves around her, making sure the gearshift digs into my side, not hers. Not that I care about discomfort. Not when I’m nuzzling her neck. “You inspire me, Sonya. I’m so lucky to have stood next to you tonight, darling. It was my fucking honor to be there.”
“If it wasn’t for your donation, they wouldn’t have brought me on stage.”
“Fools. Wasting their time with me when you’re there.”
“You gave out… What was it? A link to your custom playlist of me dancing?” She raises a brow at me. “Do I want to know why you had that so conveniently available?”
