Pas de Deux

by M. J. Duncan

  “No, thank you. I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Mallory assured him with a smile.

  “Enjoy the show,” he replied, his head and shoulders dipping in a small bow.

  The box was easy to find once they had reached the appropriate level, and Mallory looked around in wonder as she stepped through the curtain. Built in the style of nineteenth-century Italian opera houses, the compact, horseshoe-shaped amphitheater was designed in a way that allowed every seat to have a clear view of the stage. A flutter of nerves and excitement bubbled in her throat as she drank in the lavish crimson velvet that blocked the stage, the lights and the gold leaf accents that made the space feel like it was from another era, and she swallowed them back when she stepped to the front of the box and looked down at the stage.

  In a matter of months, she and Addison would be taking that stage together for the first time.

  “Not a bad view, huh?” Will said as he waved a hand at the theatre. “Pictures really don’t do this place justice.”

  “It’s quite striking,” Mallory agreed as she turned, her voice soft, as if speaking above a whisper would shatter the grandeur that surrounded them.

  Will hummed in agreement. “You two go on and take the front seats, I’ll stretch out in the back.”

  “Are you sure?” Mallory asked, tearing her eyes away from the gilded edge of the curtain to look at them. “Surely you’d prefer to sit next to your wife.”

  “Eh, this way I can fall asleep without getting in trouble.” He waved her off with a laugh. His expression gentled as he added, “Addison didn’t give you this box to hide in the back of it, Mal.”

  “I still don’t know why she gave me a box at all,” Mallory admitted.

  “You’re adorable,” Siobhan said as she took the seat in the front row that was further from the stage. “She’s clearly trying to impress you. You’ll be able to see everything from here.”

  “I would have been able to see everything from any of the seats.”

  “Not like you will from here, I’d wager.” Will pointed toward an empty box one level down and directly across from them that bore the royal coat of arms. “If the Queen sits there, this has to be one of the better seats in the house.”

  The sconces at the back of the box flickered and the music from the orchestra pit swelled, and Mallory shook her head as she obeyed the cue to take her seat. “It probably just hadn’t sold, so the box office gave it to her,” she argued.

  “Or that,” Will conceded as he dropped into the seat behind his wife.

  His smirk negated his easy agreement, however, and Mallory pinched the bridge of her nose as she wondered just what she would have to say for people to understand that there was nothing going on between her and Addison.

  “Behave,” Siobhan chuckled as she turned in her seat to smack Will’s leg with her purse.

  “Of course, darling,” Will drawled.

  Siobhan rolled her eyes as she turned her back on him. She sighed as she grabbed Mallory’s wrist and gave it a light squeeze. “Come on, Mal. The show’s about to start.”

  Mallory took a deep breath and nodded as she sat beside Siobhan, and let it go slowly as she set her purse on the floor in front of her feet. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and worried at it as she turned in her seat so she could see the stage in its entirety without having to turn her head.

  The hum of conversation quieted as the lights dimmed, and her lip slipped free of her teeth as she instinctively leaned forward. A flurry of motion in the pit led to an outward swell of sound as the orchestra began to play, ushering the curtain to rise as spotlights found their targets on the stage.

  As a child, she had been awed by the entirety of the ballet in the way all children are swept away by theatre, but this time the stage could have been bare of any set decorations for all she noticed. From the moment Addison glided onto the stage to a brief burst of applause, the rest of the theatre—hell, the rest of the world—may well have disappeared, because all she could see was Addison.

  The small smile that often curled her lips in rehearsal was gone, replaced by a steely focus and whatever expression was required for the story she was dancing to be properly conveyed. She commanded the stage with leaps and turns that seemed otherworldly, her body stretching and reaching, twisting and bending with such fluidity and ease that it was like watching a painting come to life.

  It was, as the woman at the ticket window had said, a life-altering experience to watch Addison perform.

  And that was even after spending five days a week in a studio with her.

  “Goddamn, she is good,” Siobhan murmured when the curtains fell for intermission and the theatre lights slowly brightened.

  Mallory could only nod in agreement as she stared at the stage.

  “How long is the intermission?” Will wondered.

  “Fifteen? Twenty?” Siobhan guessed. “I imagine it will be like most other theatre performances.”

  “Fancy a drink?” Will asked.

  “Sure. I could go for a glass of wine,” Siobhan answered. “Mal?”

  Mallory cleared her throat and shook her head. “No. Thank you.” She blinked as she tore her eyes away from the stage, and wasn’t at all surprised to find Siobhan watching her with a speculative look on her face. “But don’t let me stop you, please. I’ll just wait here.”

  “Water?” Siobhan offered as she pushed herself to her feet.

  Really, all she wanted was for the curtain to rise and the lights to dim and Addison to reappear, but Mallory smiled and dipped her head in a small nod all the same. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

  Siobhan’s smile was soft and understanding as she gave Mallory’s shoulder a light squeeze. “We’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be here,” Mallory replied as she turned back toward the stage.

  Will and Siobhan returned just as the lights began to flicker once more, and Mallory murmured her thanks as she sipped at the water they’d brought her. The lights dimmed after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, and she barely noticed when Siobhan took the small plastic glass from her hand as the music swelled and the curtains rose on the back half of the performance.

  She was helpless but to surrender to the siren’s call of Addison’s presence on stage, a state she welcomed gladly as she allowed herself to be swept away by her performance. In what seemed like no time at all the story reached its end, and then she was on her feet with the rest of the audience, applauding the performance they had been blessed to witness as they waited for the cast to assemble.

  The noise in the theatre when the curtains rose again was thunderous, and she ignored the flutter of her heart in her chest and the tears that stung at her eyes as she searched the faces at the back of the stage, looking for Addison as the corps took their bow. Next were the character dancers, the soloists, and then the prince, and then finally, finally, the bodies clogging the stage parted and Addison appeared, beaming at the audience as she glided toward the front of the stage. Her right foot slid behind her left as she dropped into a graceful bow, and when she stood, a young man in a black suit was making his way toward her with a positively enormous bouquet. Flowers balanced in the crook of her left arm, her co-star joined her at the front of the stage, and they bowed together.

  Addison’s eyes searched out the box where Mallory was standing, applauding so hard her hands were beginning to sting from the effort, and the beaming smile she’d given the theatre at large softened to something much more intimate as their gazes locked.

  “You are so fucked, mate!” Will laughed in her ear as Addison turned to wave at the audience one last time before stepping behind the curtains that were beginning to drop.

  Though the curtains remained down, Addison and her co-star slipped between the gap three more times before the applause finally began to fade, and once it became clear that they were not going to emerge again, Siobhan handed Mallory her purse and asked, “You ready to go backstage and tell her in person how incredible she was?”
>
  “I…” Mallory nodded. “Yes.”

  Siobhan chuckled and wrapped a gentle hand around her arm. “Come on, sweetie,” she murmured.

  Mallory took a deep breath as she allowed herself to be led out of the box and down the stairs, and by the time they reached the main floor, she felt somewhat in control of herself once more. The usher who looked more like a bouncer studied both sides of their backstage passes before eventually waving them through.

  The stage was empty, save for the crews that were busy breaking down the set dressings from the performance so they could set up for the opera the following day, and Mallory glanced at Siobhan and Will as she led them deeper into the wings. She spotted Addison and her co-star—who she now recognized as the dancer who’d arrived for his massage when they had been leaving the night before, though she could not remember his name—talking at a portable barre as they stretched in cool-down.

  “Hey, you,” Addison murmured when she spotted them.

  Addison’s co-star looked between them with a smile and shook his head as he lowered his leg and gave Addison’s hand a quick squeeze. “Looks like your visitors have arrived, my dear, so I’ll get out of your hair. Way to crush it out there tonight.”

  “You too, Matt.” Addison smiled and lifted herself up onto the balls of her feet to pull him into a hug with the bar between them. “You were brilliant.”

  “Only because I had to keep up with you,” Matt replied with a cheeky wink. He waved to Mallory, Will, and Siobhan, and then turned with a little hop to leave.

  “So, what’d you think? Addison asked as she made her way toward where they were standing.

  “Wonderful,” Will enthused before Mallory could respond as Siobhan chimed in, “Amazing.”

  “Thank you.” Addison turned toward Mallory’s guests and offered them her hand. “You must be Will and Siobhan. It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “All terrible, I’m sure,” Will chuckled as he shook her hand.

  “Only mostly,” Addison corrected with a smirk.

  “That’s probably fair.” Siobhan laughed as she shook Addison’s hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, as well.”

  Addison dipped her head in thanks as she took a step back, her attention and her body angling toward Mallory.

  Keenly aware of the fact that her friends were watching, Mallory smiled and murmured, “You were wonderful.”

  Addison’s smile was breathtaking as she whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Right, well,” Siobhan declared, shattering the moment, “It’s late, and I am practically dead on my feet, so…” She elbowed Will in the side. “We had probably best be going. Thank you for the wonderful seats. You really were amazing.”

  “It wasn’t a problem at all,” Addison assured her. “And thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed the performance.”

  “Mal, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Will said as Siobhan took his arm.

  Mallory nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  Once Siobhan and Will left the way they’d come, Addison turned to Mallory and shook her head as she pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for the flowers,” she whispered, her breath dancing lightly over Mallory’s ear. “They’re gorgeous.”

  Mallory wrapped her arms around Addison’s waist and whispered, “You’re welcome, darling.” She closed her eyes as soft lips brushed against her cheek, and blinked them open when Addison’s hold loosened and she began to pull away. “I’m so very glad you like them.”

  “I do.” Addison smiled and arched a playful brow. “So, I know you’ve got two shows tomorrow, but I’m starving and wide awake. Would you want to maybe go grab a bite to eat?”

  The caffeine from her coffee earlier had stopped working its magic not long after intermission, but Addison looked so happy that Mallory found herself willing to do anything to keep that look on her face. “I’d love nothing more.”

  The weeks that had passed since Mallory had watched Addison command the Covent Garden stage passed in a blur of LSO and Evolution rehearsals, meetings, and concerts and far, far too little sleep to be even remotely healthy. It was a good thing, though, because it kept her from thinking about what Will had said at the ballet that night. Because if she actually stopped to think about the way her heart skipped a beat when Addison had looked up at her from the stage, or the butterflies that had erupted in her stomach when Addison had kissed her cheek after the show, she would have to admit—to herself, at least—that he was right.

  And she just didn’t have the energy to deal with what that would mean.

  It was so much easier to focus on symphony structure, learning new music, and trying to not trip over her own feet than to dwell, even for a moment, on the idea that she was developing an ill-fated crush on her much, much younger colleague.

  And it was ill-fated.

  Or, it would be, if she decided to acknowledge it.

  Not just because of the whole age-difference thing—though that was absolutely the first nail in the hypothetical coffin—but because she was convinced that there was no way Addison could harbor feelings beyond friendship for her. She had seen Addison with her friends, had seen the way she and Gabs all but hung off each other whenever they were together, and she was more than old enough to know better than to read more into something that didn’t exist.

  So she worked harder than she ever had before. She woke before dawn and toiled well into the night, pushing herself to the brink of collapse day after day after day so that her professional life could be as perfect as the rest of her life wasn’t.

  And her hyper-focus on her work had paid off, as they were able to work their way through to the end of putting movement to notes and ideas for Evolution.

  “And turn,” Nina directed from the front of the studio, her soft voice a metronome to pace arms and legs and music despite the fact that they had long since adopted and embodied these final steps and made them their own.

  Mallory’s attention was focused more on her feet than the music as she spun with Addison, her right leg extending behind her and her toes drawing an invisible arc on the floor as she pulled her bow across the strings of her violin. She continued the movement of her arm as the bow cleared the strings, and barely resisted the urge to close her eyes as Addison’s right hand lifted to cradle her cheek, turning her face from her violin that she no longer needed to hold in place. They moved closer as her bow hand fell away and the final note reverberated into silence, and her throat tightened with private longing and professional pride as she dipped her head to touch her forehead to Addison’s.

  “And hold,” Nina whispered. “Beautiful. Stay just like that until the curtain drops. I want that to be the final image the audience holds in their memories of the performance.” After a beat, she clapped her hands and declared, “Perfect. That’s it.”

  Addison pulled Mallory into a hug. “We got it.”

  “We do,” Mallory agreed as she wrapped her arms around Addison’s waist and held her close. “You were brilliant.”

  “You were!” Addison argued with a little laugh as she pulled away.

  “Yes, yes,” Nina drawled, too pleased with how everything had just gone to hide her amusement as she smiled at them both. “You did it. And, come Monday, you’ll get to do it all from the beginning.”

  Mallory nodded, while Addison threw her head back and, in a rather impressive impersonation of an aggrieved teenager, groaned, “Awesome.”

  “Indeed,” Nina chuckled. She snapped her fingers and waved her hand as if to brush them toward their things to change. “And now we need to go see Ginny in wardrobe, because it’s time to put together your costumes. So…shoes off, layers on, and I’ll meet you down there. I’ll go make sure she has everything I asked for laid out and ready for you both to try on.”

  “So how do these things usually go?” Mallory asked as they obediently moved to follow Nina’s instructions.

  “We go down to the costume department and basically become living mannequins for howev
er long it takes for Ginny to put together an outfit that Nina approves.” Addison shrugged as she sat down and began tugging at the ribbons around her ankles.

  “That doesn’t sound promising.” Mallory glanced at her watch as she pulled up a bit of floor next to Addison. “I do have a performance tonight.”

  “It shouldn’t take that long,” Addison assured her. “I mean, Nina and Ginny have been going back-and-forth about sketches pretty much since we started rehearsing—so if they’re ready for us to come in, they probably have a pretty good idea of what it is they’re looking to do.”

  Mallory sighed, her thoughts evident in the soft, slow exhale. I sure hope so.

  “It’ll be fine,” Addison insisted. “Worst-case scenario, we go back and do it some more tomorrow. What are you guys playing tonight?”

  Mallory blinked at the abrupt topic shift. “It’s a trio of Stravinsky pieces—Firebird, the 1974 Petrushka, and then The Rite of Spring.”

  Addison’s eyes widened in recognition. “The Firebird ballet?”

  “You know it?” Mallory shook her head and smiled apologetically. “Never mind. Of course you do. I mean, you probably know the actual dance that goes with the music, that was—”

  “Hey,” Addison interrupted her rambling with a hand on her knee. “Yes, I know the ballet. It’s kind of impossible for me not to be aware of it. But”—she squeezed Mallory’s knee and then slowly pulled her hand away—“I’ve also been listening to more classical music lately.”

  Mallory paused in putting her violin away to gape at her. They had talked about music a few times in the past, but Addison had seemed more interested in the type of stuff one heard on popular radio channels than what was played at the symphony. “You have?”

  Addison lifted her right shoulder in a small shrug. “Yeah.” Her expression was shy and simmering with something Mallory couldn’t quite identify, and she looked away to busy herself with stashing her pointe shoes in her bag as she said, “I mean, it only seemed fair that I expand my horizons too, considering everything you’re doing…”

  Mallory chuckled softly as she snapped her violin case shut. “You are aware that this isn’t a competition, right?”