by P. M. Briede
The comment actually released some of the tension I was holding and I laughed in relief. “Well, I guess that’s something.”
He stepped behind me and his hands worked the knots out of my shoulders and neck. The sudden heat made me shiver. “Charlotte, relax,” he whispered as his lips grazed my ear. “It’s all almost over. Madness is next and if everything else was a disappointment to them, which there’s no way it was, that piece will win them all back. You are stunning in it.”
“Don’t you mean Russell and me?” I was melting at his touch and every concern I’d had, every nerve I’d pinched, they were all seeping away and confidence was taking over.
“He’s good, but you make that performance. He’s the canvas; nevertheless you’re the work of art. I wish it was me that was dancing with you.”
Without thinking, I sighed. “Me too.”
There was the briefest pause in his movements, the slightest gasp as he inhaled. He cleared his throat as he regained his composure, taking his hands off me. “I think I’m going to go check on Russell. Break a leg, Charlotte.” And the final verse of the song came flooding back over my senses.
When I heard the applause I stepped into the wing, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. Just before my first step they opened and I took in the stage and Russell across from me. It’s amazing how you can be so aware of an audience before taking the stage and so oblivious to them once you’re on it. As we moved towards each other, I no longer heard the clattering of dishes or the shifting of chairs that I’d heard during the previous sets. I only heard the music and only saw my partner.
So it came as a shock when the arms that caught me midair after my jeté were not the ones I was expecting. Taking the eight counts to blink, I saw Russell, but the hold was off. It was stronger somehow, more assured. We continued with the choreography, neither missing a step. But his touch didn’t match the size of his hands. Every hold was more confident than it had ever been. Each grasp was more assured. None of it was wrong. It just didn’t belong to him. He was dancing as if he’d partnered me for years, not weeks. He was dancing as if he was career professional, not a talented, but green, teaching assistant. If all I had to go on was feel, I would have sworn Olivier was on that stage. But he couldn’t be. There were days when I felt crazy, that I saw the impossible in Olivier’s eyes, but it was Russell dancing next to me. It was his face I saw. My desire to dance with Olivier must be so strong that my mind is filling him in.
With a third of the song left to dance to, we’d reached the lift. I was lifted into the air as if Russell had never had any difficulty with it. His hold was secure as he moved from my waist to catch my hips when I fell back against his chest. Then I gently caught his thigh with my shoulder and flipped my legs over him. I was dancing on instinct now with no measured thought to what I was doing. I lifted my body out of the arch backwards that I executed during the musical crescendo to take the two steps forward at the next lyric that was begging for love.
He caught me and swept me into the air again. When I spun out it was the first time I was ever aware of the audience’s gasp. The mood of the lyrics, the beats of the synthesizer, the heat from the lights and his touch, all acted as kindling to the fire that had been threatening to consume me. As I was placed back on my feet to finish, a raw passion for not just my movements but my partner broke free. Each step, each hold, each look, they all took on more meaning.
When the final Madness was sung out, I was facing Russell with my hands on his chest. His arms were wrapped around my back. The lights immediately went out on the last beat. His tongue caressed my name as his nose trailed along mine until his lips were mere millimeters from mine. I’d been trapped in his intense and sensual gaze until the green fire I’d only ever seen in one other man’s eyes erupted in his and danced beside his pupils. There was an immediate tightening behind my eyes and heat in my skin. The sight was so shocking that I jumped back as if singed. “Olivier!” I hissed in surprise. He was equally surprised at my whispered outburst and stumbled on his feet.
He caught my hand just as the lights came back up to show Russell’s face. This is absurd! I went on auto pilot and bowed, accepting the commendations of the crowd. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible! Had I finally reached the breaking point? Was my mind finally gone? As I followed him off the stage I noticed it wasn’t Russell’s walk. Olivier carries himself in a very self-assured and distinctive way. The set of the shoulders and gait of the steps told me that though my eyes saw Russell, I was looking at Olivier.
It was then that I realized we’d done the second lift. Russell and I had removed it that morning. Olivier had no way of knowing that. The set of his stance just before the lift had spoken to me on a deeper level and I’d gone with it, unthinking. No longer trying to convince myself that it wasn’t possible, I quickened my steps to find out how it was. But when I reached back stage, he was gone.
“Have you seen Mr. Cheval?” I grabbed the first student I found.
“No, ma’am.” She jumped and pulled away from me rubbing the spot on her arm that I had touched.
Her reaction confused me. “At all tonight?” I pressed.
“No, ma’am. I’ve seen him tonight but not lately.”
Irritated by the conflicting replies I was getting, I focused in on her and took a step forward. “Well, which is it? I need to speak with him immediately, where did you see him last?”
She shrunk away from me and it was then that I realized the picture I had to be painting. I was panting and felt crazed. I knew that had to be playing out on my features. Breathing deeply, I forced myself to be patient for her answer and not take it out on her if it wasn’t quite what I wanted. “Mrs. Grace, the last I saw him he was across stage talking to Russell but I haven’t seen him since your set started.”
You didn’t see him because he was on stage somehow wearing Russell’s skin! The thought sent a shudder down my spine. “Where’s Russell?” Hopefully that came out in a less crazed voice.
Apparently it hadn’t. She stopped talking to me altogether and nodded her head at something behind me. I turned and saw Russell walking through the door to the dressing rooms looking as if he was in some kind of daze.
Abandoning the child I’d sufficiently frightened, I raced after him. “Where were you?” I demanded after catching him in the hall.
He blinked at the sound of my voice as if I’d surprised him but he’d been looking right at me as I approached. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Grace?”
“During our dance, Russell, where were you?”
“Um, on stage with you. Are you feeling all right?”
I searched his face for the lie. It hadn’t been him, it hadn’t! I wasn’t crazy! The touch, the walk, the eyes, none of them belonged to him. The lift! “What were you thinking?”
He immediately knew I what I was asking. “I know we said we wouldn’t do it this morning but something seemed to come over me and I knew I could.” Come over him? Well I guess that’s one way to put it. “Thanks for going with it.”
He turned to walk away but stopped when I grabbed his arm. “Did you see Mr. Cheval before our performance?”
I watched his eyes closely as he answered. His pupils shrunk to pin points. “Yeah, he wished me good luck, told me to take care of you, and watched from the wings,” he stated in a monotone. By the time he was finished his pupils had returned to normal. He pulled out of my grasp and walked away, leaving me speechless.
My feet carried me to my dressing room while my mind ran wild. Olivier had been on that stage. I don’t know how he did it; I don’t know why Russell lied; but Olivier had partnered me during that dance. Then there was the way Russell lied. It was almost as if the response wasn’t his.
Just as I reached for the doorknob to my dressing room I glimpsed Olivier slipping out the back door of the theater. “Olivier!” He froze and his head snapped in my direction. Even through the crowded hallway I could see the fire and fear warring in his eyes. I intended to chase
after him but was unable to since two arms snaked around my waist, pulling me inside. The door shut as a pair of lips crashed into mine that removed all other thoughts from my mind, demanding my full attention for the length of the passionate kiss.
Wesley released me and ducked his head to explore every inch of my neck with his tongue. I pushed him away and turned to go back out the door. Maybe I could catch Olivier in the parking lot. His arm shot out over my shoulder to slam the door closed. “Where are you going, love?”
I peered over my shoulder. “I need to finalize something with Olivier before we join everyone out in the music hall.” It was a lie that I prayed would hold water. Everything had been finalized weeks ago and Olivier’s role in this evening’s festivities was limited to directing the musicians. Hopefully Wesley wasn’t aware of all those details. As it stood, the music hall should be going through a quick transformation from dinner theater to nightclub for the rest of the event.
I pulled on the door but it didn’t budge. “What do you need finalized, Charlotte? Isn’t the event coordinator I recommended to you handling the transition?”
I have to be the unluckiest person in the world. Of course he would question me. “Wesley, please, I just need a minute.” He frowned but pulled his weight from the door.
I didn’t waste a second and raced out to the parking lot. If I were Olivier … if I were hiding … if I were still here, I thought as I glanced around. Then I spotted him beside the moving truck that transported our instruments, or more so I spotted his shadow as it stretched across the light pools created by the street lamps and moonlight.
“For someone who hightailed it out of there as if he topped the FBI’s most wanted list and the room was full of agents I’m surprised to find you here.” He jumped at the sound of my voice and I thought he was going to run.
Instead he took a deep breath and leaned back against the truck. “I should know better than to try and hide from you.” He flashed a devilish smile and the moonlight lit his eyes. Funny, but I expected to see them consumed in flames. But they weren’t there. He seemed completely in control right now. He reached out, clasped my hand and then tugged on it until I fell against his chest. “You were beautiful tonight, my dear,” he whispered in a husky voice. His eyes locked on mine and my mind slowly let go of all thoughts other than his lips, his taste.
A car horn sounded and this time I jumped. When I turned to peer over my shoulder all my questions leapt back to the forefront of my mind. God damn him! No, I wasn’t going to get lost in him again. “How the hell do you do that?!” I hollered as I pushed away from him.
“Do what?” he asked as he cupped my jaw and tried to bring my eyes back to his.
I swatted his hand away. “Make me forget?”
“Forget what,” came out in a wary voice.
“My questions! My fears! My reason!” I squared my shoulders and looked at him but was careful not to look into his eyes. “I look in your eyes and it all vanishes. How were you wearing Russell’s skin? How was that possible?!” My voice took on a screechy quality but I didn’t care anymore. I was tired of questioning my own eyes every time I was around him.
“I wasn’t.” His voice was cold, his visage grim, and his eyes veiled. Oh, he was in complete control of his emotions tonight!
“Liar!” I spat. “Tell me the truth Olivier, or so help me I’ll …”
I didn’t get the chance to finish. “You’ll what?” he roared pulling his weight from the truck. “Fire me?! Have Paige arrest me?! On what grounds?!”
“For lying!”
“About what exactly?” he asked as he crossed his arms over his broad chest and glared at me.
I opened my mouth but what was I going to say exactly? His eyes? No one else seemed to see it. Our dance just now? I was sure everyone else saw Russell just like I had. His blood? I was still waiting on my definitive proof in that regard. “I don’t know how you do it,” I seethed, “but I will find out. You’ve been smart about everything up until now, Olivier. I’ll give you that. But the stunt you pulled on that stage was the final straw. I’m not crazy! There’s something not right about you and I will not rest until I figure out what it is.” I spun around on my heel and headed back inside.
I didn’t make it three steps before his iron grip cuffed around my wrist and he spun me back around. “Charlotte, stop.” His voice was soft as he spoke. Everything about him was in turmoil. “Don’t get in the middle of this. I’m begging you.”
“In the middle of what?” I begged back in a whisper.
He didn’t immediately answer but I swear if we’d had another few minutes I believed that he would have. “Charlotte!” Wesley called from the doorway.
“Almost done,” I called back never looking away from Olivier. “Let me be your friend, Olivier. You obviously want to tell me the truth, so why don’t you just do it?”
Those flames flashed in his eyes and every muscle in his body tensed. “You’re sure you want to know?” I swallowed hard and nodded. Whatever it was that he was hiding I somehow knew was going to change my life forever. “Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Your boyfriend is waiting now. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can meet somewhere?” His words came out in a nervous rush. He was shuffling his feet and looked as though he wanted to run screaming from me. I was so shocked that all I could do was nod. “Tomorrow then,” he said then turned his back on me, and left.
* * *
I’d taken half an hour to get ready for the rest of the fundraising event. As much as I wanted to leave, being the arts director meant that I had to at least make an appearance. The time had allowed my mind to stop spinning somewhat. I’d have my answers tomorrow.
Wesley’s jaw dropped when I met him in the hallway outside my dressing room. I wasn’t surprised. My hair was wavy and wild, having taken on some curl from being up most of the evening. My eyes were smoky from my performance make-up. Since I’d known my face would be a bit more dramatic than normal, I’d opted for a simple printed tulip skirt cut just above my knees, paired with a black form fitting top with three quarter length sleeves.
Seeing him look at me with nothing other than love helped ease the remaining tension I was carrying that the shower hadn’t erased. “Absolutely stunning, my love,” he said as he offered me his arm. I reached up on my tiptoes to kiss him and resolved to put Olivier completely out of my mind for the rest of the night. There would be answers tomorrow. “You’ve made me the envy of every man out there,” he whispered against my lips as his forehead found mine. “I love you so much. How long are you planning on staying tonight?”
“Why?” I teasingly cooed. The answer was currently pressed against my hip.
We headed towards to the door that separated the back stage of our venue from the music hall. “Oh, I think you know exactly why,” he whispered lustfully in my ear.
Just before we walked into the nightclub area, a women I vaguely recognized walked up and tapped him on the shoulder, pulling his attention away from me. “Now! Can’t it wait?” he angrily challenged after she whispered in his ear. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Charlotte, but I’ve got to go take care of something.” I didn’t have a chance to say anything before the two of them took off through the after party. It took me a moment to get my bearings because he was nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t taken two steps inside before Paige materialized at my side and led me to the bar.
“Two cranberry splice’s, please,” she ordered for us.
“So what’s the word?” I asked.
She knew I was wondering about the event’s success. “You outdid yourself, Charlotte. The performances were outstanding and so far everyone is having a great time.”
“What about you?” Since I’d been home she hadn’t gone out with anyone. Wesley had set her up with a guy he works with for tonight. “How’d Tristan turn out?”
She smiled slyly. “He has promise,” she admitted with a giggle.
The bartender gave us our drinks and I laughed as I offered m
y card to pay the tab. He shook his head and pointed to the other end of the bar. When I leaned over to look where he’d indicated, I saw two men lift their glass and smile. I smiled back shyly and lifted mine in response but when they stood and headed towards us I grabbed Paige by the arm and dragged her away, hoping to get lost in the sea of people. Something just didn’t feel right about them. I couldn’t explain it but I didn’t want to give them the chance to come talk to us.
“So what do we do?” she asked while sipping her drink.
“Look, I’ve got to find Alexander and Regina to thank them personally. After that we find Wesley. Wait! Where’s Tristan?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “He got a text concerning something with the campaign and took off right before I found you.”
The music started filtering through the room and the younger set began milling towards the dance floor. Governor Wyatt turned at our approach. “Charlotte! Paige! I was wondering when you two would get back to us old fogies. We were just about to leave, weren’t we, Regina? Leave the after party to you youngsters.” I couldn’t help but giggle at him as he hugged me warmly.
When I was free, Regina stepped up and hugged me also. “Where is that man of yours Charlotte?”
“Working, I think.”
She rolled her eyes. “That boy is going to kill himself if he doesn’t take some time to relax. You’ll make sure to take care of him, won’t you dear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I sheepishly answered.
“Paige, did you happen to see where Abigail ran off to?” Paige shook her head. “That child’s going to get herself into trouble tonight if she’s not careful.”
“No worries dear,” Alexander piped up behind Regina, “looks like she’s with our boy over yonder.” I turned in the direction he was looking and sure enough Abigail was hanging on Wesley’s arm and every word. My brow furrowed in annoyance that he hadn’t immediately returned to my side but instead pranced around with her. Shaking it off, I told myself they were friends and he was just looking out for the boss’s daughter. After all she was being eyed like she was a prime piece of meat due to the revealing cut of her dress.