Page 4 of On Dancer
“We need this year’sThe Nutcrackerto be a resounding success. And I need an experienced Cavelier as a draw.”
“Tavio…” I groaned because even a satellite could spot where this was headed.
“Hear me out.” He clapped me on the shoulder as if to still my escape. “We have the most promising student since you graced our halls. Victoria. She has a place waiting for herto study in New York next year. She’s wowed all the summer programs. She’s a star in the making, and she could benefit tremendously from working with you.”
“You want her to dance the Sugar Plum Fairy?” I couldn’t keep my skepticism at bay. The Hollyberry Ballet Company was tiny, with only a handful of professional dancers, all of whom had side hustles to make ends meet, and they used students to fill out nearly every production. Usually, the company gave a company dancer the biggest parts of the annual production or brought in a guest artist, as they had with Tavio all those years ago.
“Not entirely.” Releasing my shoulder, Tavio made a vague gesture. “Rudy, the school’s new assistant director, had the idea of adding a public school show on Friday morning as part of an effort to reach out more to area schools in a bid for more funding and students. Victoria will dance on Friday, and Cheryl from the company will do the weekend public shows. All we need is you.”
“All you need.” I echoed him dryly. “And what if I’m not fully ready? That’s a lot riding on my rehab.”
“You just said you could have been.” Tavio cocked his head, studying me the way a cat might a cornered mouse. “You’ll need to be ready by February anyway, right? This way, you can shake off the dust and get on stage in a low-pressure environment. If we need to, we can modify your variations or even omit them entirely.”
“Hmmm.” I pursed my lips. I missed performing the way a dolphin would miss the ocean. The chance to dance a part I could almost do in my sleep at this point was indeed tempting, especially if I didn’t have to guarantee my body would let me nail a solo by December.
“Your mother would be overjoyed to have you home for the holidays.” Tavio narrowed his eyes. Around us, the party swirledon, glasses clinking, appetizers circulating, guests laughing, seemingly no one inclined to make an early night of it.
“She would.” I released a long breath. I’d already decided to accept, but I’d let him press his case a little longer.
“And it would give you more time to work with your new PT regimen.”
“True.”
I kept my tone disinterested, a skill honed over years where the fine line between too eager and too aloof was critical. I had to admit as well that being wanted felt warm and familiar, a lovely contrast to the cooly professional reception from my longtime company. They were sympathetic to my injury and invested in my recovery to principal dancer form, but at the same time, a line of younger dancers in the company were more than ready to take my place. The company didn’tneedme in the way Tavio and Hollyberry needed me.
“You’re tempted.” As a former dancer himself, Tavio knew exactly what I was doing, stringing him along before I accepted.
“I do owe a lot to the school.” I graced him with a nod. “And you.”
“Don’t do it for me.” As always, Tavio waved away the praise. “Do it for you. A good warm-up to when you’re fully back. Doing it for the school is a nice bonus. The whole production would benefit tremendously simply from having you around.”
“I suppose this isn’t your worst idea.” It was as close to an enthusiastic yes as he was going to get from me.
“Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait to tell Margie. And Rudy.”
“Who’s Rudy again?” I asked. Margie, I knew well. She’d been my first ballet teacher, years before becoming the director of the school. She had also become a close friend of my mother’s over the years. In fact, I was surprised I hadn’t seen her yet tonight. She was one of the few people I’d go out of my wayto greet, especially since I’d been following her recent cancer journey. According to my mom, Margie had a great prognosis, but I still would have liked to see her infectious smile. I was taking Tavio’s proposition in no small part due to my fondness for Margie, but I’d never heard of this Rudy before.
“The de facto assistant director of the school.” Tavio snagged a triangular appetizer of some sort from a passing tray. “Margie’s youngest son. He’s been such a help while she dealt with her illness and recovery.”
“Isn’t he still in high school?” I had a fuzzy memory of Margie having a sticky-faced preschooler around the time I’d left home and even fuzzier memories of a knobby-kneed kid on my rare visits home.
“You’re getting old, Alexander.” Tavio gave a hearty laugh. “Rudy is twenty-four now. Out of college and full of plans to get us more funding. Margie didn’t want to admit she needed assistance, but the board insisted, so Rudy stepped in.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing.” I frowned, suddenly feeling every minute of my thirty-four years and not liking it one bit.
“And there they are.” Tavio waved Margie over. Her hair was shorter, and she’d noticeably dropped weight from her already-slim frame, but her wide smile was the same as always. She was trailed by the same fellow from catering I’d spoken with earlier.
“I’m good on drinks, thanks,” I said quickly before the server could reveal anything about how I’d been hurting earlier.
“Uh.” The guy blinked at me, big brown eyes set against a pale, almost elfin face. “Not with catering, sorry.”
Wait. Tavio had saidthey, hadn’t he?Internally, I released a groan of epic proportions while keeping my expression carefully neutral.
“Alexander, this is Rudy.” Tavio’s tone was mildly scolding. And he didn’t know the full extent of my mistake. “And of course, you know Margie.”
“As if I could ever forget.” I turned my best smile on Margie, hoping that if I simply ignored him, Rudy might let my earlier mistaken assumption slide.
“Oh, how I’ve missed your charm.” Margie welcomed me with a tight hug. She smelled like roses, the scent bringing back hundreds of classes led by her melodic voice.
