by Karen Deen
My favorite breakfast sits under my nose causing my mouth to water. Toasted sourdough, layered with avocado, tomato, mushrooms and a poached egg. It’s amazing and a great meal to kickstart the day. I’m too distracted by my breakfast to answer Xavier. Stuffing the first mouthful in, I feel like I’m in heaven.
“Are you trying to ignore me, Zara, or are you just too busy orgasming over your breakfast?”
“Xavier, you are so rude. Of course, I am ignoring you, and yes I am making love to my breakfast.” I take another mouthful, savoring the taste. “Besides, I do not have a control stick up my ass. I’m just making sure I’m getting where I need to be. You know I’ve worked so hard to get back to dancing at this level. I can’t afford to relax or take time out to have a relationship. There’s no point even contemplating it.”
“Zara, you’ve been working hard, but you still need to live. You don’t want to die a lonely old lady with twenty cats, with all your useful body parts shriveled up from lack of use. That would be such a waste.”
“Xavier!” Natalie and I both yell at the same time.
“That’s just wrong coming from you, but just so you know, my battery-operated boyfriend makes sure there’s no lack of use” I chuckle to myself as Xavier reddens with embarrassment.
“Suck on that, Xavier. That’ll teach you for trying to take the conversation there.” Natalie’s laughing at her brother who just got owned. He should know by now I never back down.
“All I’m saying is, maybe it’s time to move on from Mark. Not all men are bastards. I know you have been waiting for me to ask you out, so you can see what the ultimate man is like, but I don’t want to wreck our friendship.” His smile tells me he thinks he’s funny.
“Like you said, Xavier, all men are bastards. You and Grant are definitely in that category. Lucky that I love you like a brother, so I can put up with you being a bastard.” Poor Natalie struggles to get through her breakfast. Every time she takes a bite, one of us speaks, and she laughs so hard she almost chokes on her food.
I glance at my watch and realize I need to get moving. Getting up late has left me little time to get to the studio and set up for the day. I have several tiny dancer classes in the mornings which are popular. The moms and dads use the time to have their coffee dates while their older kids are at school. There’s nothing cuter than little girls and boys learning how to dance. They just love life and there’s not a worry on their faces.
“I have to run. Time to start work for the day. Xavier, the breakfast bill is all yours. That’s what you get for being a bastard.” I stand and hug them both. “Let’s see if I can have a calmer, quieter day today. See you both in the morning.”
Natalie yells at me as I walk away. “You better call me if anything interesting develops today.” I wave over my shoulder and keep walking, smiling at the great friendship we have. I would be lost without them. I don’t bother telling them that Sophia doesn’t have a class today so there’s no chance of running into Grant. I think I’ll leave them hanging for more gossip.
Chapter Six
Grant
It takes until I’m on the fourth mile of my morning run before my mind clears enough. I need to carry Zach’s workload for a while, so he can enjoy time with Emily, baby Thomas and the twins. They need time to cement their bond as a family and share their love with one another. As much as the twins feel loved, they will need to adjust to sharing the attention with Thomas.
While I am doing Zach’s work I also need to make sure everything else is running as it should and that Luke, Alesha and Lilly are not taking on too much work or stress. I can do all that. I’ll just have to work weekends and later each day. It won’t be forever, I can handle it.
Dad and Mom need to be kept out of the office, so they don’t try to help with Zach away. I love them dearly, but the business has changed greatly since Dad retired.
Juggling the workload will be intense but nothing I can’t handle. That’s my job, to take on the stress of the family and look after them all.
Then there’s Zara.
Most of my run this morning had me thinking about her. She’s the strongest, most confident woman I’ve met. No one is ever game enough to go toe to toe with me. The only woman who puts it over me is my mother. My sisters think they do, but only because I let them think that. The women in my family are strong, that’s no doubt. Dad has raised the boys to be protective of our family. I will do that until the day I die.
What I can’t understand is why I feel a strong sense of protection over Zara after just meeting her yesterday. I don’t think we even spoke a single word that wasn’t in the context of shooting ammunition at each other. It felt so amazing. Zara stirred a craziness in me that I had no control over. That is massive for me to even admit.
I don’t know how to cope with it.
I need to have everything in its right place. I have always been like that and I can’t change it. When it comes to Zara, that control goes out the window the moment she opens her mouth. I don’t know how to cope with that. I need to see her again and get to know her and find out what makes her the beautiful woman she is.
I spend most the run working out how to plan a chance meeting. I doubt if I call her, she’d agree to dinner or coffee. To be honest, I’m not sure that’s how I’d like to get to know her either. We are both too intense to be able to sit at a table and have a calm conversation.
I glance at my watch and need to get a move on because I can’t be late for the office. My footsteps quicken as I pound the pavement, heading back to my apartment. The city’s just starting to come alive for the day even though I’ve been running for over an hour. Rising early is something I’ve always done since I was a little boy. It gives me time to plan my day and be ready for the world. It’s what I do. I often think it would be nice to sleep in, lay in bed reading the paper with a coffee like others do. It’s a luxury I’ll never allow myself. Even if I tried, I am not sure I could manage it.
With my building in sight, I slow to a light jog to cool down and stretch in the park across the road. I love to stretch in the fresh air rather than in my apartment. It helps calm my mind before the day gets crazy.
“Morning, Mr. Stevenson.” Burt, my doorman, tips his hat to me as I come through the doors.
“Burt,” I nod, “another day has dawned.”
He smiles at me as I head for the lifts and replies, “Better make the day worth the effort it took for that sun to rise, hey, Mr. Stevenson?”
“Always do, Burt, always do. No point wasting it now, is there?” He chuckles as the doors close. We go through the same ritual every morning ever since I moved into the building five years ago. It took a long time for me to find the right apartment. Now I have it, there’s no chance I’m moving anytime soon.
Burt’s in his late sixties and loves his job as a doorman. He lost his wife to cancer three years ago and has never missed a day of work since. I think it gets him through his grief.
You can’t be married for forty-seven years and not miss them, like part of your whole soul is missing.
I often wonder what it’d be like to wake up every morning to see your wife in the bed next to you, day in, and day out for forty-seven years.
That’s a love that’s truly special.
I want that one day.
To be loved more than life itself. To have another life that I can love so hard I can’t breathe without her.
One day.
Zara
“Arms out in front of you, holding your hands. Great job. Now let’s tap our toes out to the front, pointing our toes. One foot at a time. Watching Miss Zara now and follow me.” I watch my little dancers in the mirror. It’s the hardest thing to do to watch them and remain serious without laughing out loud.
They’re so adorable and every one of them is doing a different action. It doesn’t matter. What matters are the smiles on their faces. You don’t always get the smile due to the concentration of which foot to point forward. One of my little boys concentrates so hard
, he looks adorable. He actually pokes his tongue out between his lips and bites down while he’s concentrating. It’s the cutest thing I have ever seen.
“Keep up the good work. Your dancing is awesome, my little ones. Now that is all for today. But I want you to go home and practice what we have learned, ready for next week. Time to get a drink of water and take off your ballet shoes, ready for your big people to pick you up.” I turn to see parents and carers starting to filter in through the doors.
The excited chatter gets louder as the kids run and dance over to their parents, showing them what they’ve learned today. It’s such an amazing feeling to see the improvement in each of my students. At this age, they can struggle for weeks with a particular sequence of steps, but when they finally get it, it’s like a lightbulb turning on and their whole face lights up with such pride. I’m so lucky to be a witness to that.
The last mother and student head out the door, so I call after them asking them to lock the bottom door. I don’t want any strangers calling in unexpectedly like yesterday. Grant made such a commotion about it last night that he had me thinking about it. I’ve never been worried before but then again, I have never really thought about it. It makes sense, but I would never admit it to Grant.
Checking my timetable, it confirms I have a break now for the next three hours. That gives me time to finish choreographing my audition piece for the New York Dance Company. I had auditioned just before my injury and made it to the last group before the final cut.
I need to ensure my audition makes them stand up and take notice of me straight away. I’m running out of time to gain a spot in the company. Soon I will be considered too old. Even if I get accepted now, I would only have a few years to live my life-long dream.
My life felt like it’d crashed around me the day my partner dropped me in a lift. From the moment my knee hit the floor the pain that ran through my body was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I’d screamed and brought the studio to a halt. I tried to get up, but my leg just buckled under me. I was left in tears no matter how brave I was trying to be. My dance partner, Scott, panicked while trying to comfort me and yelling for others to call 911. I don’t remember much after the paramedics arrived. I’d torn my anterior cruciate ligament in my knee, clean off the bone, as well as some hairline fractures in my bones. Surgery was the only option and at least eight weeks’ intense rehabilitation to walk properly. It was nine months before I could even start to dance or run. During that time, I lost all my strength and muscle definition.
It was the worst time of my life. Never had I felt such despair.
Laying on the gurney listening to the doctor was like a knife stabbing my heart. He stood there telling me how high the possibility was that I would never dance again.
My heart shattered, and I tuned out what he was saying after that bombshell. I spiraled down a dark tunnel. I was a strong, stubborn woman, but at that moment, I was broken in a thousand pieces.
All I had wanted since I could walk was to be a dancer. My parents tell stories of me dancing to my own rhythm. It was like I had an internal playlist of music only I could hear. I couldn’t understand how life could be so cruel to me.
That day was just the beginning of months of heartache. It didn’t take long for me to stop sulking and realize the only person who could ever prove the doctor wrong would be me, and of course, with my family, Natalie and Xavier being my biggest supporters and pushing me to never give up. I have now made it back to this point.
Quickly checking my emails and messages, I activate the Bluetooth on my phone to hook into the studio speakers. My audition song is on my phone. It’s so I can listen to it at every single chance. I need not only to know the song but become one with it. I have to feel it right to my core to be able to put all the emotion and passion into my dance. For me, dancing is telling a story. It isn’t just moving around in sync with music. You need the audience walking away having lived your dance and felt every part of your story.
Warming up and stretching on the bar, I clear my mind and let the song start to wrap around me and take me to the place I need to be. My audition piece is close to my heart, and in a way, tells my story. The story of life being one of joy and the secure feeling it gives you, but then the rug is pulled out from under you. It then portrays the journey of the fight back to regain my strength and confidence in life, looking for that joy again.
This is my last chance at living my dream. I can’t let anything, or anyone, distract me at this stage. The audition is in two weeks’ time. I’m really happy with my chorography and now it’s time to polish and refine it. Contemporary dance is my favorite style. It allows so much expression. I stand in the middle of the studio and concentrate on my breathing.
Blocking out everything else so there is just me in this moment, the music starts. I inhale my last breath and let my body take over. My mind is totally immersed, my arms in motion, my legs strong carrying me around the floor. My heart rate rises, my mood soaring to its happy place. Nothing can ever top the feeling I get when I’m dancing. It will always be my first love.
After spending two hours working hard, I feel satisfied on where the audition piece is at. Sweat runs down my back, my leotard saturated. It feels amazing. A feeling I never thought I would get again. One of self-satisfaction. When you’re thoroughly exhausted because you gave it everything you have and left nothing in the tank.
Today is a good day.
I have a full afternoon of teaching in front of me, so time for a shower. My poor students and parents don’t want to put up with the stale sweat on my skin. Mind you, if they saw me, my appearance would be one to scare them away anyway.
It’s one of the things I love about my studio, that it has a bathroom and shower. It makes my life so much easier. If I’m heading out after class, I can always freshen up first. No need to head home and waste time. I look forward to the hot water on my muscles this afternoon after a few hours of hard-core practice.
Standing with the hard needles of water pounding on my back, my mind starts to relax and wander. Grant again invades my thoughts.
Chapter Seven
Grant
At least today has started better than yesterday. However, yesterday was a special day. The birth of little baby Thomas had erased all the bad things that’d happened. Zach called this morning to let me know Emily and Thomas have settled well over night and will be spending a few days in the hospital. The twins will be staying at home, with Gruffy and Me-Me looking after them when Zach isn’t there. Mom always said she would be happy to travel until grandkids arrived. True to her word, Mom and Dad have not been away since Sophia and Samuel came into our lives. They took their roles as Gruffy and Me-Me very seriously. There’s so much love to share that all the kids were spoilt-rotten as they came into our family, no matter how many there ended up being.
Of course, I told Zach not to worry, that I would take care of everything and told him if there was anything he needed, to call me. He laughed at me when I said it. I am not sure why, but probably because I sounded more like a father than a brother. It was never intentional, but I couldn’t stop it. I’m glad I can be the entertainment for my siblings.
Mom and Dad might need a break tomorrow from the twins, so I will offer to pick them up from school. I can do the afterschool activities and then drop them to the hospital for a visit. Mom can then give them dinner, baths and get them into bed. That part of the day, I have no idea on what to do. Small children have never really been my thing. Mainly because I don’t know how to control them. Soph and Sammy claimed my heart though and there was no turning back. Baby Thomas just claimed another part of it yesterday. Another family member for me to keep safe.
Work was running smoothly at the office this morning. Everyone’s excited to hear the happy news of Thomas’s arrival. The women swoon, and the men try to stay clear of them.
What is it with women and babies? It sends them crazy.
Zoe, Zach’s secretary and personal assistant,
is trying to control them all. She promises to relay all the news she receives when speaking to Zach. I call past her office and tell her to take time out and go see Thomas, Emily and Zach. She’s like family and I know they’d love to see her. Zoe drives me nuts just like the rest of them, but she was one of us, even if not blood related. There was just something about her.
However, when Zoe returns from the hospital, she too is all dreamy. I realize maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all.
I need to get out of the office for a while. There’s too much estrogen running around and not enough testosterone to counter-balance it. That might not necessarily be a good thing either. Office romances are not especially welcome in our business. We don’t have any hard and fast rules against it, but it just makes things difficult if it doesn’t work out. We’ve made it clear we don’t encourage it, and hopefully that will be enough.
It’s time to grab a bite to eat which gives me an excuse to get out of office, even for a short while. Jumping in the car trying to decide what I feel like for lunch, becomes more about where I feel like spending a bit of time in a non-baby world.
Driving along the street, I find myself heading in the direction of Zara’s dance studio. I haven’t worked out in my head yet how I’m going to approach getting to know her. It’s obvious I need my A-game before she’ll ever agree to spend time with me. That doesn’t stop me thinking of her all the time. I’ve never had a woman take over my thoughts.
Dating is never an issue for me. Women are always interested. I’m not sure if they’re interested in me or my money. I’m not a billionaire, but I’m very comfortable. Working hard has taught me the value of money and to not flaunt it around. I make it work for me. There have been few women who’ve made it to more than one date, but that’s it.
They don’t understand my life and the time I dedicate to my business, my drive to succeed. When I was young I watched my father work hard. It earned him respect and power. I knew then I wanted that power and success. I felt the hunger you needed to be at the top.