The Devil of DiRisio

by Leslie DuBois

  “Is that really what you think of me?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “After all we’ve been through, that’s really what you think of me.”

  Will stood up to leave, but I grabbed his arm. “No, that’s not what I think of you. I’m sorry.”

  He folded me into his arms and said, “I love you more than anything in the world, Sony. Please believe that.”

  “I do. I believe it. I love you, too.”

  ~ * * * ~

  “Veronica and I are just friends,” he explained during the long car ride home. “She is a big fan of basketball. She attends all the home games and even goes to some of the road games. Sometimes, she’ll join us in a celebration party or something.”

  Will looked at me to see how I handled this information. I continued to stare blankly out of the window at the southern French countryside. It was beautiful even in the dark. “Lately, you’ve been really busy and preoccupied. Veronica is just someone to talk to.”

  “She’s really pretty,” was all I said. Will didn’t disagree.

  Chapter 12

  Out to Lunch

  “Where’s my bag!” I snapped at Anna Marie as I ransacked our room.

  “What is your problem?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ve been snapping at me all day.” Anna Marie walked over to my side of the room, lifted up a pair of filthy jeans and pointed to my dance bag. “If you would clean up your side of the room you wouldn’t lose things as often,” she mumbled to herself.

  “Thank you for that brilliant summation, but when I want your opinion, I’ll ask.” I didn’t know why I was being so mean. Oh, wait, yes I did. I hadn’t slept in days, my boyfriend was cheating on me with a walking venereal disease, and Alejandro hated me and was on the verge of kicking me out of the Academy.

  My only hope was to wow everyone at this next performance, but my partner was a complete moron and no help whatsoever. I prayed that he would get struck by lightning or hit by a bus or anything so that I wouldn’t have to dance with him. I would rather dance alone than with that klutz.

  I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the room to go to the studio for some last minute rehearsing. I thought maybe if I practiced alone I could find the magic again. That magic that made me love dance. That magic that made dance the air of my soul instead of the thorn in my side.

  I went through the routine five times and I still didn’t feel it. I could do the steps, but not with any passion. I didn’t feel transformed and uplifted. I gave up and began to pack my dance bag, resigned to the fact that I would have to give up my dream. Or at least fulfill it somewhere else. Rome just wasn’t for me.

  I couldn’t find my street shoes in my bag so I dumped everything out on the floor. Out tumbled my first pair of ballet slippers. My mother bought them secondhand when I was eight-years-old after I begged her for two weeks to let me take dance lessons. She couldn’t afford it, so I cleaned Ms. Alexander’s dance studio every day in order to be able to take lessons. And now, nine years later, I was dancing in Rome and frequently shared the stage with world class dancers. Dancers that I had read about in magazines. I had come so far. Too far to let Alejandro suck the joy out of dance for me.

  I looked in my CD case and found my favorite Shostakovich CD. I knew it would make me feel better to dance Natalia Karleskaya’s solo. That was the solo I had performed to get into the summer festival in Barcelona four years ago. She actually wrote to me to tell me how well I’d done. It was my proudest moment. She was my all-time favorite dancer. My fascination with her bordered on obsession. If she had ever performed in front of a camera, chances were that I had tracked down the recording and watched it.

  Dancing that solo, I could feel her presence. Her spirit infused mine. I’d found the magic again. Now I remembered why I loved dance. As I made my final leap and struck the closing position, I heard someone clapping. In walked Damian Karl.

  “You’re a big Natalia Karleskaya fan,” he stated.

  “What?”

  “That’s her solo. I’ve never seen anyone besides her perform it so well.”

  “You know ballet?”

  “I know a lot of things. I know you are too good for him.”

  “Pierre? Yeah, I know. Why couldn’t Alejandro see that?”

  “I meant Will,” he said.

  My heart fluttered.

  “You knew he would be at that video shoot, didn’t you? That’s why you wanted me in the video so badly.”

  He shrugged. “So what if I did? I just thought you should know where your boyfriend spends his time.”

  “Will loves me. He’s not cheating on me,” I said more for my benefit than for his.

  “And what about you? What do you call your feelings for me?”

  “Who says I have feelings for you?” I tried to sound as confident and detached as possible. For a moment, he looked vulnerable and not the usual suave arrogant Damian Karl at all. Then as if a switch went off, the egotism came back. He shrugged off my confidence in my boyfriend and swaggered further into the room.

  “Here’s a little inside info,” he said as he checked the door to make sure no one was near. “Alejandro and Pierre are lovers. Alejandro just wants to advance the career of his little boy toy.”

  “What? So, he’s willing to sacrifice my career for his. That’s not fair!”

  “Life’s not fair,” he said simply as he took a step closer to me. “Look, I know Alejandro well. I’ll be willing to talk to him for you if …” He took the back of his hand and caressed my face.

  “If what?” I said, slapping away his hand. Well, I meant to slap it away. Instead, my hand lingered on his. We stared into each other eyes. I could feel his breath on my lips. Before I knew what was happening, we were kissing. Deeply. Damian’s arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against him. Our bodies melded. My mind went foggy. It took all of my energy to conjure Will’s face in my mind and find the strength to push Damian away. “No, this is wrong,” I said, trying to twist out of his embrace.

  “Then why does it feel so perfect?” He kissed me again. I could feel where this was headed. Every inch of my body could feel it. I had to stop him.

  I set both my palms firmly against his chest and pushed with all my strength. He let go too abruptly and I slipped and fell, hitting my head against the mirror.

  “Sonya,” he said compassionately as he held out his hand to help me up. I didn’t accept the gesture. I couldn’t let him touch me again. There was no telling where it would lead. Instead I stood up and ran out of the studio.

  The next day, Damian showed up at my pas de deux class. I thought Madame Mara would get angry and throw him out. She hated distractions. And considering that half the girls in the class had probably slept with him already, he was quite a distraction. But instead of throwing him out, she started chatting with him in Russian. They smiled and laughed with each other like two old friends. If Madame Mara wasn’t 150 years old, I would’ve thought Damian was flirting with her. But, hey, who knows what he’s into.

  Anyway, suddenly Madame Mara called my name and instructed me to go with Damian.

  “Huh?” was my intelligent retort. Why would she want me to leave class? What could he possibly have said to her to get her to let me leave? Me, of all people. I would think she’d want me to stay the longest since Pierre and I were such horrible partners. We needed all the practice together we could get. I was just about to point this out when I looked over at Pierre and saw him pick his nose and wipe the booger on the bottom of his ballet slipper. I cringed. He had to touch me with those disgusting fingers.

  Maybe Madame Mara started to have pity on me for having to dance with Pierre. I had lost some weight recently and he still had trouble with the lifts. Maybe she realized that it wasn’t my fault and was rewarding me with a day off.

  Instead of trying to determine Madame Mara’s true motivations for her sudden generosity, I grabbed my stuff and followed Damian out of
the classroom. Jealous that I had somehow captured his attention, a few of the girls gave me the evil eye as I exited. That just made me feel even better about leaving. I was tired of being at the bottom of the barrel in this Academy. At least now, I was getting some attention. But at what cost?

  I didn’t know what Damian wanted with me. Okay, that’s not true. I think he made it perfectly clear what he wanted from me last night, but I would have taken any excuse to get out of Pierre touching me again.

  “What do you want?” I grumbled once we had left the classroom.

  “I want to apologize for my behavior last night. It was very … ungentlemanly.” Damian tried to take my hand and kiss it but I snatched it away. Damian’s turquoise eyes flared with disappointment. He recovered quickly, however, and said, “I would like very much to take you to lunch as an expression of my sorrow.”

  “That’s not necessary. You didn’t make me do anything I –.” I was about to say that he hadn’t made me do anything I didn’t want to do, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. So, instead I said, “I accept your apology. You can go now.”

  “Oh, come on. Please bless me with just an hour of your time. Hey, it will be better than spending your time with him,” he said indicating Pierre with a nod of his head. I looked inside the classroom and saw that Pierre was still digging for buried treasure in his nose. Good God, was he trying to scratch his brain or something?

  I cringed again. There was no way I was going back in there today. I turned and looked at Damian. He looked harmless enough now. His turquoise eyes gleamed with regret. He looked almost passive in his creased black pants, striped button down shirt that was unbuttoned almost to his stomach, and his chic leather jacket. Even his hair had been tamed into a ponytail, but a few rebellious strands had escaped giving him a look of subdued recklessness. There wouldn’t be any harm in going to a public place with him. He wouldn’t be able to try anything with tons of people milling around.

  “Fine,” I huffed as I rolled my eyes. “Let me change.”

  ***

  “I’ll have a plate of romaine lettuce with oil and vinegar on the side, a half a cup of shaved carrots, and a glass of soda water with lemon,” I said to the waiter of the café Damian had taken me to. I wondered why we needed to drive twenty minutes to get to this particular place when there were plenty of café’s just like it and nicer right next to the Academy. But I didn’t complain. I was just glad to get out of class for once. I had begun to forget what Italy looked like during the day.

  “You eat like my mother,” he said with a grin after he ordered a plate of some disgusting sounding pasta. I gave a fake smile and continued to fiddle with my napkin. I didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I really didn’t care. I wanted to know why he was so dead set on taking me out to lunch. I should have known it was a trap.

  Damian spent the next thirty minutes talking about his career. Despite myself, I found that I was interested in what he had to say. He had such a fascinating life. He found it unbelievable that I hadn’t seen a single one of the movies he’d choreographed.

  “These were major motion pictures. You haven’t seen one of them?”

  “Sorry, I spend all my free time dancing. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been to a movie theater. If I’ve seen a movie it’s because I checked it out from the library. And if I did that, the movie must have been placed next to a recording of a Natalia Karleskaya performance.”

  “Incredible.” Damian laughed then finished off his glass of wine. “So, what are you looking for out of your dance career? What is your ultimate goal?”

  “Well,” I said suddenly smiling from cheek to cheek. “I want to dance for the Russian Ballet.”

  “Really?” Damian seemed genuinely shocked. I couldn’t help but feel a little offended by his reaction. Did he think I wasn’t good enough?

  “I know I’m not at that level right now, but one day I’ll be good enough. I’m willing to put in the work if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “No, that is not what I was thinking at all. I think you are capable of dancing anywhere in the world you want. I bet you just want to dance with your precious Natalia Karleskaya. But I don’t think you should limit yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You are a magnificent ballerina, but you are also very good in other areas. I think you should go where you can do all types of dance.”

  “Like where?”

  “Like my company.”

  “You don’t have a company.”

  “Not yet,” Damian smiled wickedly. Was he making this up? It wasn’t beyond him to make up a phony company and promise me principal just so he could sleep with me. I rolled my eyes and gulped down the rest of my water hoping it would cool the rush of heat that had overwhelmed my body over the prospect of being a principal dancer. “Fine, don’t believe me. But how does your boyfriend feel about moving to Russia for your career? What about his career?”

  “We’ll figure that out when we come to it,” a voice said from behind me. I turned around to see Will glaring down at Damian.

  Chapter 13

  The Set Up

  “Will, what are you doing here?” I asked in a panic.

  The ever cool Damian leaned back, clasped his hands behind his head, and said, “Ahh, the boyfriend, please join us.” Will balled his hands into fists. I thought he might take a swing at Damian any second.

  “Will, this is Damian, he’s the … ”

  “I know who he is. He’s the Hip Hop instructor at you’re school. He’s also the guy you were dancing with at The Spanish Fly.”

  “I … he … we … ”

  “What I don’t know is why you’re not in class. What I don’t know is why my girlfriend is having a romantic meal with another man. Or why you would choose to have that meal at the café I go to every day after practice.”

  Even though Will was speaking to me, he didn’t take his eyes off of Damian. Suddenly, I realized what was going on. Damian had set this up. He purposely brought me to this café at this time, just so Will could see us together. I had to do damage control and fast.

  “Baby, this isn’t a romantic meal. It’s … it’s business. Damian was just telling me about the … dance company he plans on starting and how he wants me to be a part of it.” For the first time since this whole embarrassing fiasco started, Will looked at me. He saw the innocence in my eyes and realized I was only a pawn in Damian’s game. Will took my hand and led me away from the table locking eyes with Damian one more time as a kind of silent warning.

  “Stay away from that guy, Sonya,” Will growled as we made our way to his car. “I don’t like the way he looks at you. I don’t like the way he dances with you. I don’t like anything about him.” Will, always the gentleman, opened the car door and let me in. “You haven’t had a lot of … experience with guys,” he said once he was behind the wheel but before he started the engine.

  “Trust me, Sony. I used to be that kind of guy. A guy like that wants just one thing. He wants to take advantage of you. You can’t handle a guy like that.” Will turned to me and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. He looked in my eyes with … pity. He was pitying me! He thought I was some sort of naïve child. I was his poor stupid girlfriend that he had to take care of and protect.

  “Oh, so, I’m too stupid to handle Damian, but you … you’re overly qualified to handle Veronica,” I spat viciously. Will’s jaw tightened as he held back a response. He turned away from me and started the engine. He clutched the wheel so tightly his knuckles started turning white.

  We drove to DiRisio in silence. When he pulled in front of the dormitory, he shut the car off and stared straight ahead. I could tell he wanted to tell me something so I just sat and waited.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you were stupid,” he said finally as he entwined his fingers with mine. “It’s just that … I love you and I want to start our life together. I want us to be a family
. I want us to get married and have children, but you keep saying no. I don’t understand why you don’t want to marry me and then I see you with Damian and I just think you’re holding out for something better. And it hurts.” I leaned over and rested my head in his lap.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you today, Will. You gotta know that. But now you know how I feel each and every time I see your name next to Veronica’s in the papers.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he kissed the side of my head. “Let’s promise to never hurt each other again with doubt and suspicion, okay?” Oh, how quickly he broke that promise.

  Chapter 14

  A Floozy in Florence

  “Uh oh,” Anna Marie said ominously. She had already gone for a jog, gotten breakfast, taken a shower, and was now reading one of her many tabloid magazines and newspapers. I still hadn’t gotten out of bed. I was so exhausted all the time. I didn’t know how Anna Marie had so much energy.

  “What is it?” I asked groggily.

  “Um, nothing, never mind.” I rolled over too tired to try and force a piece of gossip out of her. It was probably another rumor about who Damian Karl was sleeping with now. “It’s just that, where did you say Will was last night?” Now she had piqued my interest. What did she know about my Will?

  I sat up and said, “He had a game in Paris.”

  “Well, according to this picture, he was in Florence getting into a limo with Veronica Valerio.” I got out of bed and snatched the newspaper out of her hand. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but I had to. That was definitely Will and that was definitely Veronica. But they were just getting into a limo. It didn’t mean anything. Well, it did mean that Will had lied to me. Again.

  “What does it say?” Anna Marie asked. I skimmed the article. It basically claimed that they were an item now. Neither of them had confirmed the relationship, but they had been seen together on several occasions and he was even seen leaving her Tuscan Villa.