CALEB
Must Love Danger: Book 4
By
Emily Jane Trent
Table of Contents
CALEB
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
DEADLY PERIL PREVIEW
Chapter 1
Copyright
Chapter 1
Olivia Cameron was on a mission. As a former ballerina, she was an advocate for dancers, and her motto was they don’t have to suffer silently. After foot issues and a cartilage tear, even a concussion from falling during a performance, she’d fought through the pain.
Yet on a day that changed her life, Olivia had to retire from the Philadelphia Ballet. During rehearsal she’d executed a hip rotation by putting her leg into a position that most couldn’t manage, and a hip flexor injury had stopped her cold.
The damage was more than a strain and was so severe that surgery had been required. That was five years ago, when she’d retired from professional dancing to teach ballet at the Youth for Dance Academy. She stood in one of the dance rooms looking in the mirror, while doing warmup stretches.
With her ankle propped on the ballet bar, she leaned over to touch her head to her knee a few times—then switched sides. She twisted her brown hair into a knot on top of her head, reminding herself that it was time to touch up the blond highlights.
Stretches for her tight hip were especially important, as it aided in alleviating lingering pain from her injury. She used a therapy ball to perform an ankle-to-knee stretch, then followed that sequence with a kneeling hamstring stretch.
Despite nagging discomfort, it was vital to keep fit. The world of dance was her life. Although she wasn’t performing professionally, dancing was a thrill—one she enjoyed as often as possible.
Livi, as her friends called her, wouldn’t forget what had happened. She vowed to do her part to abolish dangerous practices. Unnecessary injuries had pushed her out of a professional dance career, and she was passionate about protecting other ballerinas from a similar fate.
The mirror reflected Livi’s toned physique, but the pain in her hip reminded her of permanent damage and her limitations. Dancing was a powerful way for young ballerinas to find confidence in themselves, and parents considered a dance academy a safe space—but all was not as it appeared.
Ballet had been Livi’s life, and she’d participated in performances with dancers of incredible grace and artistry. Yet the darker side of the art was less talked about. Dancers counted calories, or spooned mustard and cucumbers onto their plates, striving for unhealthy thinness.
Dancers ignored pain and danced despite injury. It was accepted to endure physical stresses that led to permanent deformities of feet or ankles. And the abusive treatment by directors and instructors was tolerated as a necessary evil.
A shriek from the other room startled Livi, and she leapt up to see what had happened. Sprinting to the rehearsal session next door, she skidded to a stop in the doorway. The artistic director, Alexei Baranov, was guiding a young dancer.
He was often rough with his students, and this was no exception. The other young ballerinas looked on with horror but dared not speak up. Kayla, the dancer under scrutiny, was sixteen years old and had been at the academy for many years.
Livi strode across the floor and shouted, “Alex!”
Tears streamed down Kayla’s cheeks, but she couldn’t move. She sat on the floor with her legs outstretched, while Alex pressed his foot on the top of her ankles to push her feet into a straighter line.
“Stop, you’re hurting her,” Livi said, causing Alex to remove his foot. Such methods could cause stress fractures, in addition to the emotional trauma.
Alex stepped back without apology. He was tall and leanly muscled, having performed in his younger years. He was enormous compared to his young students, and the sight of him was intimidating, even to Livi.
“Let me help you,” Livi said to Kayla, then bent to lift her up. “I’ll take you out of here, so we can see if you’re hurt.”
Alex glared then said, “We’ll discuss this later.”
“You can bet we will.”
An artistic director had authority over training, and Alex adhered to nineteenth-century Russian teaching methods. Such techniques were harmful yet accepted as the norm in the world of ballet.
Before leaving, Livi turned to the class. “I’m very sorry; that won’t happen again.” She hoped that was true, but Alex thought he could do as he pleased. Unfortunately, his methods were standard procedure—but if Livi had her way, that would change.
Livi carried the ballerina to the office. “Are you hurt?”
Kayla just wiped her eyes without answering. That was an expected response. With too many ballerinas to choose from—usually thirty female ballerinas for every ten male principal dancers—an injured dancer opted to keep quiet. Dancing injured was acceptable to the dancer and to the company. The parents of young ballerinas had been known to sign waivers, so the dancer could continue despite the complications that could cause.
When Livi stepped into the office, Elena looked up and said, “Oh, what now?”
Elena Jensen was in her early forties but didn’t look her age. Her long, dark hair hung loose about her shoulders, and her dark eyes were lined in black, a look reminiscent of stage makeup. She was slender and graceful, a tribute to her years of ballet. Her career had ended when she’d only been in her twenties, so she was no stranger to training methods and the harm that could result.
Livi lowered Kayla into a chair, elevating her feet on a pillow. “I want you to tell me if it hurts.”
Kayla was rail thin, so it wouldn’t take much to cause injury. Livi was furious at the injustice, but she remained calm. She touched Kayla’s ankles lightly. “How does that feel?”
Kayla rubbed her hand under her nose and sniffled. “I can dance…I’m okay.”
That was the problem: contemporary ballet glorified a culture of dancing through pain. Kayla’s response was not unique. Ballerinas were aware from a young age that if they failed to perform, another girl would take her place. No amount of suffering seemed excessive in pursuit of the art.
“What did Alex do?” Elena said, handing a bottle of water to Kayla.
“I couldn’t get my ankles flat enough,” Kayla said. “The director was forcing my feet to stretch. I couldn’t do it by myself. I’ll fail if he doesn’t…” A tear rolled down her cheek.
Livi understood it wasn’t from the discomfort of an injury, but from fear of being cast aside. It was fear that bordered on desperation. A young ballerina’s life centered around dance, and the thought of possible banishment was enough to make any pain acceptable.
“I want to tell you something, Kayla,” Livi said. “I danced for many years. I trained, just as you are. Please believe me when I tell you that Alex was in the wrong.”
Kayla shook her head. “It was me. I just wasn’t good enough.”
Livi’s heart went out to her. “I know it seems that way. But if you have a director who is not being caring and supportive, it’s very easy to think that there’s something wrong with you.”
Kayla blinked back tears.
“You can trust us,” Elena said. “We will talk to Alex, and don’t worry, he won’t blame you.”
Kayla nodded, looking down at her lap.
“I’m going to call your mother,” Elena said. “She will take you to the doctor, just to be sure you’re okay.”
/> Livi hugged Kayla then left to find Alex and face the consequences of her interference—and to give Alex a piece of her mind. The class had ended, so the students were filtering out to meet their parents in the lobby.
“You have to answer for your behavior,” Alex said, his dark eyes flaming. “I won’t tolerate you creating a scene in class. It’s not your place to admonish me for anything.”
Livi took a breath, making an effort to subdue the rage Alex stirred within her. As the company’s director, he represented what Livi was adamantly against.
“You do realize that you are attempting to force the ballerinas’ young bodies into nearly impossible molds?”
Alex stepped closer. “And you must realize that Kayla’s suffering today will be her success tomorrow.”
Livi recognized the ballet motto, popularized by the instructors who didn’t stop to consider the result of their dangerous methods. “What happens if Kayla doesn’t stop suffering? What if she has no tomorrow?”
“Then Kayla is weak and has no place in ballet,” Alex said. “Just like you were, and still are. You are incapable and refuse to do what it takes to achieve success. A ballerina must be stressed to achieve the level of ability required.”
That mentality was appalling. Modern ballet’s logic was flawed, but those in charge failed to admit it. Sacrifice in the name of art was disturbing. Injuries and even deformities resulted from the demands put on dancers’ bodies.
“There’s another way—a better, safer way,” Livi said. “Ballet doesn’t have to be an austere and unrelenting master, requiring more than ballerinas can give.
“That is so much bull.”
“I think not,” Livi said. “I’m lobbying for a promotion. Yes, you got that right…I’m after your job. There’s so much wrong in this dance company that I don’t know where to begin. But I intend to step into the leadership role, and I refuse to put art before common decency.”
Alex stared with his fists clenched. For a moment, Livi thought he might strike her. She’d pushed him further than usual, but she wasn’t sorry. She’d had it with tyranny and abuse, because that’s what it was no matter how it was packaged.
“You’ll fail at that, just like you failed at ballet,” Alex said. “You’re a woman, and you couldn’t cut it on stage. There is no way you are taking my job. Promoting you to the position of artistic director is laughable. I won’t allow it.”
Alex strode from the room, and Livi stared at his back. I won’t allow it—well, she’d see about that. She was up to the challenge. Very little meant more to her than protecting the young ballerinas in her dance academy and playing her part in long-overdue industry changes.
She’d had it out with Alex before, and he was aware of her point of view. It was no surprise that she wanted control of the company. Her position as dance instructor didn’t give her the authority to make policy changes. Gaining control of the company would be a tough proposition, since Alex clung tightly to his power—deserved or not.
Livi went to the office, where Elena was talking to Kayla and her mother.
“Ms. Anders, I want you to know our concern is for your daughter,” Elena said.
“Yes, but if Kayla isn’t complaining then she should be allowed to dance.”
Livi understood how Kayla’s mother felt. A highly-anticipated performance was coming up, and if Kayla was injured, another would take her place.
“We will do our best for your daughter,” Livi said. “But we need a doctor’s note indicating that she is injury-free. A stress fracture might have been caused by the incident, and it’s best to rule that out.”
Kayla followed her mother out of the room, appearing to walk without any problem. Yet that could be by appearance only. A young dancer panicked over possible injury might push aside pain, even at the risk of aggravating her condition. And a ballerina’s mother, living vicariously through her daughter’s achievements, would look the other way.
“How is Alex dealing with this?” Elena said.
“As usual…his arrogance is appalling.” Livi took a seat. “He can’t continue to get away with this. Other academies have written policy that’s enforced. It’s there to guard against such behavior. Yet Alex thinks common decency is a weakness, and that his methods are justified under the guise of art.”
“Yes, humane treatment of dancers is a concept he doesn’t get.”
“It’s a losing battle for him, though,” Livi said. “Even the New York City Ballet hired a female assistant artistic director, and she is making changes in how things operate there. As a former ballerina, she understands and allows for a greater range of acceptable movements. She embraces a greater range of bodies and effectively prevents injuries.”
“I admire her very much,” Elena said.
“That’s what I intend to do here,” Livi said. “A shift in top dance companies should trickle down to the younger dancers who dream of dancing professionally one day. Such changes allow the ballerinas to witness dancers with a variety of body types and experience a wider range of dance styles.”
“We both know that the board has many reasons to justify relieving Alex of his position.”
“But will they?” Livi was accustomed to the board looking the other way regarding offences. “It’s the fundraising. Alex is in tight with a couple of the donors—and as much as I’d like to think this is about art, it’s about money just as much.”
“Sad but true,” Elena said. “Getting back to Kayla, I certainly hope that she won’t have to take a break from dancing.”
“That will put us in a tough position, too,” Livi said. “With the spring performance Saturday evening, it would be difficult to replace her. The understudy can handle it, but she would have so little time to acclimate.”
“That performance is a big deal for all the girls,” Elena said. “Let’s hope that one of our stars isn’t out of the show.”
“That reminds me,” Livi said. “In the morning, I’m going to stop by the theater. I’d like to make a last check before the final preparations. There is one dance number that requires extra setup, so I want to take a look at the stage again.”
“Do you need help?”
“That’s okay,” Livi said. “I can handle it. I’d rather have you here to keep an eye on things…if you know what I mean?”
“I sure do, and Alex doesn’t scare me,” Elena said. “He’ll have me to deal with if he doesn’t lighten up. I’m as sick as you are of his brutality.”
*****
It was a lovely April afternoon, and late in the day Livi walked home. She preferred walking, and that was one reason she’d bought a condo not far from the academy. The location also worked well, since her daughter had started college at Haverford to study sociology. Livi still couldn’t believe that Juliette was eighteen and on her own.
Juliette could visit when she had breaks, since home was in the same city. Yet she lived in the dorms to experience more independence. That was fine with Livi due to the easy visitation, which she frequently took advantage of. She was close to her daughter, and very protective of her.
It was chilly, so Livi turned up her collar and walked faster. She passed familiar storefronts, and her boots clicked over the brick patio of a local café. The trees were lush green, and flowers bloomed in flowerboxes by entrances to nearby restaurants.
Livi turned the corner and breathed in fragrant cherry blossoms, emitting a scent of crushed almonds. She admired the delicate beauty of the flowers, and it was one of the reasons she enjoyed springtime. At her building, she walked across the grassy courtyard, regretting that she hadn’t taken the opportunity to have dinner at one of her favorite restaurants.
As Livi turned the key to her condo, her stomach rumbled, then she remembered some leftovers that were probably still eatable. The condo was a haven for her, with its high ceilings, hardwood floors, and modern furnishings. Once Juliette started college, it had made sense to move to a smaller place.
The walls were soft gray wit
h white trim, and the furniture was white leather. The black end tables provided a pleasing contrast. She’d stuck with the neutral theme except for her bedroom, where she’d opted for royal blue.
Despite the cool evening, Livi opened the French doors and sat on the patio to eat the remains of chicken piccata. She looked up at the sun fading in the pale blue sky, unable to push away the emptiness in her life. That was something she still wasn’t used to.
Livi had been married to Brendon for eighteen years, so it was difficult to adjust to living alone. Her husband had been military, and his career as a Navy SEAL had frequently kept him away from home—yet she’d always known that he was coming back, so it hadn’t been quite so lonely.
Only now Brendon wasn’t going to share the future with her, or watch Juliette grow into womanhood. He’d miss all those joys, just as Livi missed him. On his last mission in Iraq, Brendon had been killed in action. Livi had deeply grieved; the first few months had been the hardest. Yet the loneliness remained.
Livi was proud of her husband; he’d given his life to protect others. She couldn’t fight in his place, but she could do her part. Standing up for the ballerinas at the academy was her way of protecting them. She could shield the young girls from trauma that they shouldn’t have to endure.
It was an injustice that she could do something about—and she would. Brendon had given all to protect the innocent. Livi would do no less. She vowed that she would succeed, despite the odds. The management of ballet companies traditionally fell to men.
Few women rose beyond dancing on stage. Even the choreographers were primarily male. But it was a glass ceiling that could be broken through. Other women had proven that, although rarely. Livi could do it—and she would, no matter the personal sacrifice required.
Chapter 2
After retirement from the military, Caleb Rowe had been fortunate to find employment at Black Swan Protection. The company’s owner Hawke Turner had been a Navy SEAL like Caleb, so was a kindred spirit. The skills Caleb had developed during his former career were useful in executive protection.
Caleb Page 1