Page 7 of On Dancer
The chilly sunshine also felt like a spotlight on my recovering muscles. November meant the start of rehearsing with both of the dancers playing the Sugar Plum Fairy—the company dancer as well as Victoria, the promising teen. I owed so much to the Hollyberry Ballet School. No matter what Tavio said about watering down or omitting my variations, I wanted to give them a worthy performance.
While I’d donated what I could over the years, I wished I had easy access to the sort of funding the school and company needed. Though I lacked a huge cash infusion, I could use my name and reputation. Which meant delivering with my signature perfection, not merely going through the motions for a show I’d memorized decades earlier. The Cavalier was known for his solo, and I wanted to perform the complex variation with the soaring leaps that had helped me to become a principal dancer at one of the country’s premier ballets.
I moved from stretching into the foundational movements that formed the backbone of my repertoire. I wore footless black tights and a light T-shirt, but my dancing kept me warm enough in the drafty studio. Thanks to months of PT, my knee didn’t twinge, but the lingering stiffness had me picking apart my every step.
Not good enough. Not high enough. Not deep enough. Not?—
Mid-attack on my latest attempt at a jeté, I caught sight of a shadow in the mirror and whirled to find Rudy lurking near the doorway. Like most of the teachers and employees, he used layers of clothing to defend against the hard-to-heat building. His baggy green sweater over another shirt made him look smaller and younger, but no less annoying as an interruption.
“What are you doing here?” My voice came out much too harsh, but I was in no mood to be checked up on. I’d apologized for our initial confusion a few days ago, but I remained unconvinced about his motives.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to gawk, but I said your name a few times before giving up and watching for a few moments.” Glasses askew, Rudy sounded slightly dazed, awestruck even, which was a grave impossibility given my atrocious form.
“You needed something?” I didn’t take kindly to being watched during class in the best of circumstances, and certainly not now when my struggles were so evident.
“I wanted to go over the schedule for the school visits.” Undeterred by my rough tone, Rudy held out a colorful sheet of paper. “You didn’t reply to my text yesterday, so I printed you a copy. The first visit is next week, so I wanted to make sure it was on your calendar.”
“Apologies. I had a long day yesterday.” I still should have replied to his text, but I’d suffered through a demanding and frustrating PT session and honestly hadn’t wanted to think aboutThe Nutcrackerwhen I’d collapsed onto the sofa in my parents’ pool house. “I’ll put the schedule in my calendar after I’m done here.”
“Thank you.” Rudy offered me the same encouraging smile he had at my father’s party, the one that revealed the barest hint of dimples and made his features that much more elfin. He wasn’t necessarily Hollywood hot, but short and dimpled with a tendency to blush went a long way with me. “Isn’t tonight your first rehearsal with Victoria?”
“Yes.” Again, my tone was clipped from both frustration at the unwanted attraction and Rudy checking in on me. “I’m ready.”
“Did I imply you weren’t?” Rudy gave a rare frown, eyes narrowing like he was thinking hard. “Or are you always this cranky?”
“Apologies.” I waved a hand. I tried not to live up to the temperamental diva dancer stereotype, but for whatever reason,Rudy seemed to bring it out in me. “I don’t deal well with being scrutinized.”
“Scrutinized?” Rudy’s frown deepened. He seemed genuinely puzzled. “Do you think I’m spying to make sure you can dance?”
“You aren’t?” I rolled my shoulders from side to side as all my righteous indignation fled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was concern over my ability to perform.”
“Not from me.” Rudy held up both hands. He had nice hands, long elegant fingers and neatly rounded nails. And lord, it had been well over a year since I’d had sex, and right then, I felt every minute of my self-imposed celibacy.
“Thank you.” I swallowed hard. I didn’t like being wrong, but I could at least own up to it. “I’m sorry for yet another wrong assumption on my part.”
“I need your help with the promotional activities. That’s all. No ulterior motive other than enjoying watching you dance.” A rosy flush spread across his cheeks. “You look magnificent as ever to my untrained eye.”
“Harumph. Hardly.” I waved away the praise, but my voice was far less grumpy. “And untrained? Haven’t you spent years around the school? I remember your mom teaching a few classes with you in a backpack. I’d assume you know more than most.”
“You really should stop assuming.” Rudy gave a good-natured laugh. “I took the beginner classes, same as my siblings, but I failed to inherit our mother’s natural grace. I was too squirrelly and intent on testing the rules to last long as a dancer. Despite my mother’s good intentions, I lacked the attention span for anything more than an appreciation for the…artistry.”
Another of Rudy’s telltale blushes, along with a breathy pause, said it wasn’t my feet he’d been watching. I might have been wrong about his motives, but I’d been right about the interest in his eyes.
“The artistry is what’s missing right now.” My tone was rueful, and I couldn’t believe I was admitting this to Rudy rather than accepting his compliments. “I’ll find it, of course, but there’s a tentative quality to my jumps and turns. A hesitation. I despise it and want it gone.”
“You’re still rehabbing,” Rudy said reasonably. “I’d tell you to be patient with yourself, but something tells me that’s an impossibility for you.”
I made an indignant noise. “I’m very patient.”
“I’m sure.” Rudy gave me a pointed look. “Maybe if you were nicer to yourself, you’d stop assuming the worst about everyone else.”
“Touché.” I flexed a foot, pointing my toes before stretching my calf to stay limber as well as to avoid the uncomfortable knowledge that Rudy was right. “Okay. Perhaps I am a bit impatient. But with good reason. Endless rehab is boring.”
“And you’re not in the least bit dramatic.” Rudy chuckled.
I was so used to people treating me with the sort of respect due to someone with my years of experience and acclaim. It was more than a little disconcerting to meet someone who didn’t seem at all afraid to put me in my place.
“Don’t you have local friends from school? Hobbies?”
