First Position

by Melissa Brayden

  “Anytime. You know that.” Adrienne must have decided the room was uncomfortable enough and moved them past it, turning her attention to Jenna. “Tell us about your meeting. We’re dying.”

  “Yeah, tell us how it went,” Natalie said.

  “It went really well.” Jenna sat back in her chair with her wineglass. She looked to Adrienne. “If you’re on board, I think we’re a go for the film. All parties were in agreement. It shoots for four weeks in Austin, Texas.”

  “I hung out with a girl there once.” Adrienne winked at Jenna. “I think I can do it again. Congratulations.” Adrienne picked up Jenna’s hand and kissed the back of it. “And what about Elevation? Any word there?”

  “The producers agreed. I cleared the dates with them first. So I’ll step away from the show for four weeks and then step back in.”

  “So how does that work?” Natalie asked, not wanting to blatantly mention Adrienne’s prediction. “Will they use your standby?”

  “Possibly. Sometimes they like to bring in someone new so they can write up a fancy press release and act like it’s a big deal so people will rush out and buy tickets.”

  Adrienne raised a conspiratorial eyebrow. “What if the person they brought in was from somewhere prestigious, like say, the New York City Ballet?”

  Jenna studied Adrienne when understanding seemed to strike. “You’d be interested?” she said to Natalie. “It’s an awesome show, but it kicks my ass nightly.”

  “I would. I’m in love with the show. It’s everything I’m passionate about.”

  “Well, I will be happy to pass that information along to one of the producers. See if they might want to set something up. You never know. I mean, if you’re serious.”

  “I’m serious.”

  She squeezed Ana’s hand under the table, not really believing this could be a possibility. The squeeze she received back was halfhearted, but Ana passed her a small smile.

  They spent the rest of the evening lounging in the living room, drinking wine and swapping stories from the performance trenches. Natalie really enjoyed herself. These girls were down-to-earth and tons of fun, surreal as it was to hang out with them. Even Ana seemed lighter as the evening wore on, laughing freely and leaning in to Natalie.

  “I will call you this week,” Jenna told Natalie as she pulled her into a tight hug. “Fantastic meeting you.” She then wrapped an arm around Adrienne and placed a kiss on her cheek.

  Natalie shook her head. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “You can thank her another time,” Ana said playfully. “I think we should give these two some time on their own.”

  Jenna and Adrienne were now smiling at each other, and though it wasn’t overt, Natalie could tell that Ana was right. “Good night, you two.”

  “Good night,” Adrienne said absently.

  “Yeah, good night,” Jenna called. “Be safe.”

  Once they were alone in the elevator, Natalie turned to Ana. “I like them. You called it.”

  “I knew you would. And you were great tonight.” Ana lightly grabbed the front of Natalie’s shirt and pulled her in. She smiled at the show of affection and the tingles Ana always sent her way. They kissed until the elevator dinged. “We’re really good at making use of our time in these things,” Natalie said, glancing up at the ceiling.

  Ana laughed. “You have a valid point. But I’m mad at you and I forgot.”

  As they spilled onto the street from Adrienne’s building, Natalie feigned shock. “How could you be mad at me? I’m so sweet.”

  Ana briefly smiled at Natalie’s attempt to win her over, but it wasn’t the full wattage Natalie had hoped for. “You shouldn’t have brought up the injury. I confided that to you and no one else.”

  Natalie took a moment as they walked. “I get that. I do. But I’m worried.”

  “Don’t be. I’m fine.” She said it with finality, like the subject was now closed.

  When they climbed into bed that night at Ana’s place, Natalie asked the question that had tugged since dinner. Ana hadn’t said much at Adrienne’s suggestion that she audition for Jenna’s role.

  “So, what do you think about the Elevation possibility?”

  Ana studied Natalie, her cheek against the pillow. “So you’re actually considering it? That wasn’t just the wine talking?”

  “Yeah, of course I’m considering it. It’s the chance of a lifetime. Don’t you think?”

  Ana didn’t answer right away. Instead, she seemed to gather herself. “You have a contract with City Ballet and you want to just walk away? Natalie, think this through. You don’t really want to do that.”

  And this was where they were different.

  Ballet was everything Ana held dear. Natalie was well aware that Ana couldn’t for one second imagine how she didn’t feel the same. Natalie struggled to explain. “I don’t look at it that way. City Ballet has been an awesome training ground but, Ana, this opportunity comes with the kind of work I want to do.”

  Ana shook her head. “I just can’t fathom how you would throw away what someone else would kill for. Don’t you see that? There will be more shows down the road for you to branch out.”

  And there it was.

  Natalie slid down the bed until she was face-to-face with Ana. “I just think that we’re approaching this from two different—”

  “We probably are.” Ana sighed deeply. “And I don’t want to cut this discussion short, but can we talk about it later? My mind is a mess and I think I just need some sleep before tomorrow.”

  “Sure. Yeah.”

  Ana must have sensed her downshifting and raised Natalie’s chin, kissing her softly. “Hey, look at me. You are going to be killer at anything you do, whether it’s with City or somewhere else That’s how good you are. Sweet dreams.”

  Natalie lay awake, letting Ana’s words wash over her. It was a Band-Aid on a disagreement that probably had staying power. In the end, the course of her career would be her decision. Ana would just have to find a way to understand.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this. I think it’s a bad idea,” Natalie said to Ana as they made their trek to Lincoln Center the next day. They’d been going back and forth about the performance most of the day, and now that it was close to call time, Natalie couldn’t sit idly by anymore. “I realize you’re a stubborn person. I get that, and I’m doing my best to be supportive, but you still limp when you think I’m not looking, and I know you’re still dealing with more pain than you admit to.”

  Ana hadn’t looked at her. Instead she’d concentrated on the sidewalk ahead of them. With her dance bag on her shoulder and a purposeful stride forward, Ana was more determined than ever to put herself back in the show. “Natalie, I’m fine. Please stop. I realize you have to be at the theatre, but I don’t want you in my head when I’m trying to prep for a show.”

  “A show you shouldn’t be dancing,” Natalie said, as they crossed the street. Ana passed her a long look and Natalie held up her hands. “Fine. You’re an adult, and I’ve said what I think on the subject.”

  As dusk shifted to night, they walked in silence for several blocks as they neared the theatre.

  “I get that you’re coming from a good place, but I’m in control of this situation.”

  “Sure you are.” Natalie shook her head as her annoyance peaked. “So ridiculously stubborn.”

  “Yeah, well, that goes both ways. You haven’t let up for hours now.”

  It felt horrible to be at odds with Ana, the girl who pretty much owned her thoughts of late, but there was a larger issue here. There were just under two hours until curtain, and Natalie was determined to find a way to make sure that it was her onstage that night and not Ana. She rolled her shoulders against the feeling of foreboding that had prickled her neck for the past twenty-four hours. Somehow she knew that if Ana danced in this performance, the result would be catastrophic.

  “I need to talk to you,” Natalie said t
o Jason, in the doorway of his dressing room.

  He turned and regarded her without much interest. “Is it important? I still need to warm up.”

  “She shouldn’t dance today. Ana. The tendon in her foot is frayed to nothing. She doesn’t want people to know about it, but her doctor says it’s serious. If she dances on that foot and the tendon snaps, she’s done.”

  “What?” He swiveled, now fully invested. “She didn’t say anything.”

  “Would you expect her to? You know what she’s like.”

  Realization flared and he sat forward. “That’s what was going on during the performance the other night. She wasn’t herself.”

  “Because she was in excruciating pain, Jason. That’s what I’m saying. She’s in bad shape and she’s not listening to her body because of the opportunity she’s been given here. I’ve tried talking to her, but maybe if she heard it from you also.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, of course. Where is she?”

  “She’s in warm-up.” Natalie followed him there, where they found close to sixty dancers stretching and preparing themselves for performance in a large space adjacent to the stage. Ana was toward the back of the room, but from yards away, Natalie recognized the telltale wince on Ana’s face when she executed a leap. Ana shook her head and tried again, lifting her left foot from the floor on the landing and reaching for a barre to steady herself. Just watching made Natalie cringe.

  “Hey, Mik. Got a second?” Jason asked as they approached.

  Ana looked from Jason to Natalie and back again. “What’s up?”

  “If you’re injured, you know the best thing to do is call out, right?”

  Ana’s facial expression hardened and sealed off as she flicked a glance to Natalie. “My left foot is tender, but it’s much better than it was a couple of days ago. If I felt like I couldn’t do my job, I would definitely have Natalie take my place.” Ana returned to her warm up and placed her right foot on the freestanding barre and bent to it.

  Jason turned to Natalie and shrugged his shoulders. “She seems to know what she’s doing. She’s a pro. It’s not for you to question her.”

  He moved into warm-up himself and Natalie stared at him, incredulous. “Wait. So that’s it? You say two words to her and give up?”

  He looked at her hard. “It’s her call to make. Not yours.”

  Natalie nodded a few times, understanding that siding with Ana placed Jason firmly in her good graces, on her team, which was the only place he ever wanted to be.

  She was on her own with this one.

  *

  “This is your half-hour call for Aftermath,” Priscilla said over the loudspeaker. “Half-hour call, please.” Ana caught her reflection in the mirror and recognized the expression: fear. She was scared. She could admit that much. But this opportunity was a huge one for her, and there was only a week left in the run. If she could get through the remaining four performances that belonged to her, Aftermath would go down as a triumph on her résumé and not one with an asterisk for attendance.

  Still, her warm-up session had about killed her, and doubt crept in. There was a knock at the door and Natalie let herself in. Her face was a crease of worry, and she sat on the couch behind Ana and stared at her in the mirror. “You’re sure about this?” she asked. “It’s not something you can undo.”

  Ana met her gaze in the reflection and shook her head slowly. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  It seemed to be the only opening Natalie needed. She was instantly on her knees in front of Ana. “Look at me, and know how terrified I am right now. Tell me to get dressed, and I will. Please. Don’t do this to yourself. It’s too risky.”

  “And what will Bill think of that? And Roger?”

  “That you’re a world-class dancer with an injury. They run a professional company, Ana, they get it. Plus, you’ve sat out entire seasons due to injury before. You said so yourself.”

  “Yeah, and what did that get me? Years stuck in a rut as a soloist. I’m not falling back into that cycle.”

  Natalie’s eyes seemed to plead and she took Ana’s hands in hers. “If you won’t do it for yourself, will you do it for me? You said that you care about me, that you might be falling in love. If that’s true, you’ll do this one thing for me.”

  The sentiment hit Ana hard because there was so much she was willing to do for Natalie.

  “I just have this horrible feeling. Ana, if you trust me at all, you’ll listen when I tell you that dancing on that tendon is the wrong decision.”

  Ana squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to make the right decision. But this was her career she was talking about. She didn’t buck that for anyone. She had to do the performance. But Natalie wasn’t just anyone. She took Natalie’s face in her hands and locked her gaze with Natalie’s. “For you?” she asked.

  “For me.”

  After a long moment, she sat back in her chair. “That’s about the only thing you could have said to make me agree to this.” She gently ran her fingers through Natalie’s hair and caressed her cheek.

  “Is that a yes? You’ll call out?”

  Ana nodded, feeling a combination of relief and disappointment hit. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll let Priscilla know I can’t do the show. You better get dressed.”

  Natalie stood and pulled Ana to her feet. “You’re doing the right thing. I know it sucks, but it’s the wise choice.” Natalie kissed her and pressed her forehead to Ana’s.

  Ana nodded, feeling somehow lighter. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but you’re probably right. Now get to wardrobe and make sure this is a killer show. It’s one of mine, so it better be good.”

  Natalie grinned. “I will do my absolute best to represent your good name.”

  “Fine. And then come home to me and tell me all about it.”

  “Deal. And, Ana, thank you. You’re doing the right thing.” Natalie kissed her one last time before hurrying off to get in costume.

  Twenty minutes later, Ana was on her way home in a cab. She couldn’t sit there while a performance of hers went on without her. Priscilla had been the consummate professional and immediately went to work making the last-minute changes for Natalie to dance the show. Ana’s heart hurt as she sat in the backseat of the cab, watching as they whizzed past nameless, faceless individuals with no idea that she’d just thrown in the towel.

  But Natalie was right.

  She had a larger career to think about. A bigger picture. She couldn’t be willing to give it all up for one performance in one ballet, no matter how noteworthy. She closed her eyes and leaned her back against the seat, willing herself to calm down and accept her situation. The sound of screeching brakes brought her out of it as she was slammed into the back of the passenger seat with such force, she lost her breath. They were spinning, that much she was aware of, as she gulped for air. She tried to grab ahold of something solid in the cab, anything to anchor herself, but the force was too great. Metal crunched. Something awful jammed into her, pinning her between the floor of the backseat and the driver’s seat, which seemed to have been bent back and leveled on top of her. The pain hit, sharp and hot, and she screamed as it sliced through her. She couldn’t move, that much was clear. Her left arm was trapped beneath the metal undercarriage of the driver’s seat. She blinked hard as silence descended, the screeching and the crunching and the screaming now gone. She looked around for any way out of the twisted car around her. She could see the cab driver’s hair from above her.

  “Sir,” she managed to whisper. “Are you okay? Sir, can you talk to me?” But the pain came back full force, and it was excruciating. She screamed, blinking against the agony, wishing it all away. Too much. The pain was too much, it was hard to get air. Her lungs were compressed in the tiny space and it hurt too much when she tried to move. She wasn’t going to survive this. She’d been crushed. It was only a matter of time now until it was all over.

  What had happened again?

  Where was she?r />
  There were people nearby. She could hear them, and then a man’s face looked in at her thought the shattered glass. That man would help them, she thought, as blood ran from her forehead into her eyes. Please, God, someone help her.

  Make it stop.

  Make it stop.

  *

  What in the world was going on?

  Ana still wasn’t answering her door and Natalie’s text messages had all gone unanswered. She knocked again and waited. “Ana?” she called into the apartment. “If you’re in there, I need you to let me know.” It was close to midnight, and after coming home from the performance, Natalie was surprised to find Ana MIA. It was possible she was still upset about having to pull out of the show, which was why Natalie had made a detour on the way home and picked her up a to-go quart from Shake Shack, hoping to find a way to cheer her up. “Okay, well, I’m going to go back to my apartment and text you five thousand more times until you answer me. You’re starting to freak me out.”

  Something didn’t feel right.

  Instead of texting Ana, Natalie went on a calling spree. She checked with Helen, Audrey, Jason, and anyone else who might have seen Ana after she left the theatre. Yet no one knew anything. She tried banging on the door again and, feeling out of options, slid down the wall in the hallway to the floor. She’d just sit there and wait then. What else could she do? Forty-five minutes later, her phone buzzed in her back pocket from a number she didn’t recognize.

  “Hello?”

  “Natalie, it’s Bill Bradshaw. I apologize for the late hour.”

  “That’s okay. Is everything all right?”

  “It’s not. I received a call tonight from Klaus Mikhelson, who asked me to alert you to a situation we’re dealing with. Ana Mikhelson was unfortunately in a serious car accident earlier this evening when her cab swerved to avoid a wrong-way driver and careened into a brick wall at a high rate of speed.”

  Natalie felt the cold shiver move up her spine as she covered her mouth, sending up silent prayers. Please don’t do this. No, no, no.