by Vivian Wood
My dad sneers at him. “Yeah? I don’t believe you. You’re full of shit.”
Calum drops the bag of bagels that he was holding and as fast as lightning, he is on my father. A quick couple of punches, left and then right, faster than I can even process what’s happening.
My dad's on the ground just that quickly. Blood is seeping out of his nose and he keens, the sound seeping from his mouth and raising hairs on the back of my neck.
“What the fuck?” he mutters.
Calum calmly picks up the rolled up paper bag of bagels and extends his hand out to me. He looks me in the eye, clearly trying to keep himself in check. “Ready to go?”
I nod, swallowing against the huge lump of emotion that threatens to burst out of my mouth. “Yes.”
“You can’t just punch me and then run off!” My father howls. “You won't get away with this! You both just two-bit hustlers trying to take advantage of me…”
I don't look back. As Calum leads me away, my eyes are only for him. Though my heart beats frantically, there is no sadness in me whatsoever.
He squeezes my hand. “It's okay, beauty. It'll be okay. We’ll be out of his sight in less than a minute.”
I pull him to a stop. Reaching up to his neck, I press up on my toes and give him a hard kiss. Sweet, hot, searing. A claiming kiss, a branding one.
He is mine.
When I release Calum from my grip, he slides his hand around my waist and urges me onward. But he does lean his head closer to mine, whispering in my ear.
“Later,” he says. “Let’s get out of here first.”
I nod, trying to respect this pitfall of a man who has named himself my protector. He grips my hand again and walks me down the street.
8
“Okay, everyone? Can we all come to the center of the room for a minute?” Bas shouts.
I turn around in the dance studio, making eye contact with Ella as we both head over across the hardwood floors. Bas is standing in the middle of the room with an expectant expression on his face. He puts his hands on his hips and swings his gaze around the room.
“All right. I know that a lot of you have been whispering about what you think the fall ballet should be. I know traditionally we have usually done a lighter ballet which will leads us into doing the Nutcracker at Christmas. But I think that we need to expand our resume a little bit. Test our boundaries. So that's why I think that we should do a modern dance interpretation of Romeo and Juliet.”
Immediately, everyone starts whispering to the ballerinas beside them. But Bas claps his hands together and ends the chatter.
“Roles will be selected based on talent. I will email the Alexander version of the ballet to all of you. Study it. Prepare yourselves. We will rehearse scenes four and five nonstop for the next two weeks. At that point, I will hold rehearsals and roles will be handed out.” He pauses, arching a brow as he looks around the room. “There is no room in this company for good enough. No room for coasting. There is only room for excellence and showmanship. Are we all on the same page about that?”
A smattering of people agree with him out loud. The rest of us, including myself and Ella, look at each other with a great deal of uncertainty.
Bas isn't worried about our feelings though. He raises his hands and shoos us back to our barres. “Go on. Back to where you were. Starting with this class, we're going to work through the routines very slowly. Step-by-step…”
I bl0w out a breath. “Welcome back to the barre.”
Ella arches a brow in my general direction but I just shake my head.
“This week… I swear, God is testing me.”
Ella giggles a little and takes her place beside me at the barre. For the next hour or so, we go through a series of stretches and then do a few combinations. Nothing that raises my heart rate much, honestly.
I raise my arms and take my place in line to execute an easy combination. A few pirouettes finished with a grand jete. As soon as I finish, I turn to watch Ella. But she only makes it through one move before I hear the most dreaded sound in the entire ballet studio.
As Ella begins her first pirouette, a loud snap echoes through the whole studio.
I get chills at that sound. Every time I’ve heard that exact sound, it’s been a career ender for someone.
I rush over and call her name. “Ella? Ella!”
She is already crying by the time I kneel next to her. She clutches her ankle. I reach out to touch her ankle with gentle fingers and she howls from the slightest touch of my fingers against the back of her foot. On a light skinned dancer sometimes you can tell a tendon injury just from a sudden and spreading bruise. But Ella’s dark skin and reaction to my touch makes me think i should just let the professionals handle it.
Bas pushes several dancers out of the way and kneels down on the other side of Ella. “Are you okay?”
“Call a doctor!” Ella shouts.
His gaze travels down to her leg and he visibly swallows. “Okay. Okay. I need some help, people!”
Bas turns his head and zeros in on a student. “Melanie, can you call 911 please? And Betsy, can you run down to the office and let whoever is in there know that we have a medical emergency?”
Ella starts whimpering out loud. I grab her arm, sliding my hand down to hers. She looks at me, her brown eyes wide with pain and shock.
“Why? Why me?” She whimpers through her tears. “It really hurts…”
I can only grip her arm and mutter that she is going to be okay. I carefully pet her head and shoulder until help finally arrives.
By the time that the ambulance crew is lifting her onto a stretcher, her leg is swollen so badly around the back of her ankle that it looks like there is a grapefruit lodged beneath her slick pink tights. As the ambulance crew leaves with her, I make sure to tell them to take her to the best hospital in the area. I rush after them with Bas right on my tail.
He looks over at me, his eyes filled with concern. “Do you want a ride? I'm going over to make sure that everything is taken care of…”
I nod. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea…”
It's only when I am getting out of the taxi that Bas hailed that I realize that I'm still wearing my ballet slippers. I hurry to the hospital entrance and look around, trying to decide if my best option is just to wear this pair of shoes out. I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?
I try to call Calum, but I get his voicemail several times. That just amps up the frustration and worry that lie just beneath my skin.
I don't get a chance to see Ella at the hospital before they rush her into surgery. Bas brings me a pair of hospital flip-flops which I take with a sad smile. He and I wait together, holding our breath.
“Did you talk to Calum?” he asks.
I shrug a shoulder. “He's not answering. I think he and his brother are supposed to be going out on a boat or something today. I seem to remember him saying that he probably won't be available… I'm glad that Ella is in surgery and not me.”
My mouth turns down at the corners in a slight frown.
Bas nods, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah,” he sighs. “I saw her injury though. It didn't look pretty. It looked like something that ends careers.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “I don't want to hear that.”
“Are you here for Ella Smith?” A nurse asks.
We both look up and say yes at the same time. Shooting to our feet, we follow the nurse as she leads us down the hall to a private room.
As the nurse ushers us into the room, I see Ella propped up on a bed on one side of the room, a doctor in a long white coat standing at the end of the bed. The doctor sweeps back a lock of her long blonde hair, giving us a staid smile as she continues speaking with Ella.
“No, I'm afraid that probably won't be possible.” The doctor looks at us, narrowing her gaze.
Ella pushes herself up, groggily locking gazes with me. “Dr. Hart is just telling me my prognosis.” She sniffs a little. “She's telling me
how I won't dance again.”
My eyes widen and I look to the doctor. “Is that true? She's a ballerina by trade. We all are.”
Bas clears his throat. “Yes, is it true?”
The doctor gives us the same practiced smile. “I was just telling Ella that a lot remains to be seen. But after this type of injury, it is not common for professional dancers to return to the stage. After an Achilles tendon injury like this one, where the tendon stretches and snaps, it is unlikely that the injured party ever regains full use again. Not to the level of a professional dancer, anyway.”
I walk over to the bed and grip Ella's hand, looking down at her. Tears well up in her eyes but she looks away, her throat working.
“I see,” is all she has to say.
“What about physical therapy?” I ask. “I mean, that can't be it for her career. She will dance again eventually. Right?”
I look to Bas and Dr. Hart for confirmation. But I don't see the confidence and security that I am looking for mirrored in either of their gazes. Instead, I see a sadness and a kind of surety there, something that I couldn't hope to see.
Ella squeezes my hand hard. I swallow and return my gaze to hers. Her brown eyes are full of unshed tears.
“That's it,” she whispers to me. “Can you believe it? That was my last practice with the New York Ballet.”
Dr. Hart clears her throat. “Like I said before, we will have to see. Every case is unique.”
Patting the end of the bed, she leaves the room.
I take a deep breath and let it out, uncertain. Ella begins to cry. Bas comes around to the other side of Ella's bed, squeezing her fingers. He looks down at Ella's face. When he speaks, his words are quiet, nearly mournful.
“I’m so sorry that this happened to you. I'm at rather a loss for words.”
Ella nods miserably. Bas pats her hand and steps back.
“I’ll be right back. I should let everyone back at the ballet no that Ella made it through surgery.” He retreats out of the room, leaving me alone with Ella.
I sit down on the bed beside her. She is silent for a long time. She doesn't look at me but she does grip my hands.
“Ella,” I say softly.
She looks at me. I can see the heavy-heartedness in her gaze.
“Nothing is for certain. You can't despair. Not yet. Not ever, really.”
She blows out a breath. But before she can say anything, a nurse comes in.
“Would you like more some pain medication?”
Ella nods. “Yes please.”
While Ella is dealing with the nurse, I slip out and shoot a message to Calum, updating him on Ella's condition. When I head back in the room, Ella has fallen into a light doze.
9
Squinting out across the water, I spread my legs and plant them firmly. The water makes the floor beneath my feet rock rhythmically. I can hear the ropes creaking, the deck hands calling to one another, the sound of the wind whipping around my head. I shade my eyes against the sun and look out over the seemingly endless sea.
“I could almost see myself leaving everything behind and just taking Kaia on a year-long trip around the world on one of these. Don't you think?”
I turn to look at Lucas and find him gripping the boats railing with both hands. He doesn't exactly look miserable but he doesn't look comfortable either. His frown tells me exactly what he thinks about that plan.
“I don't think that yachting is really my forte,” he admits. “I didn't know until we stepped on this boat though.”
I can't help but grin at him. “No, I guess not. I can't say that I knew before we came though.”
Lucas sighs. “Can we go sit down at least?
I chuckle and nod. “We can. I just wanted to stand at the front of the boat. What’s that called, the helm?”
He shoots me a look out of the corner of his eye as he follows my footsteps back towards the shaded area where we were sitting. “I think the helm is where you steer the boat.”
I shoot him glare over my shoulder and collapse onto a very expensive white couch. My brother sits much more delicately, perching himself on a matching white chair.
“Now I think I have to buy one of these boats. Or is it a yacht? Actually, I don't know the terminology about that either.”
Lucas picks up his glass of soda water and takes a slow sip. “Maybe you have to be a billionaire in your own right to stand on one of these things and not feel like you are being turned inside out.”
I snort. “You're a billionaire in your own right by now. Right?”
He shrugs a shoulder and shakes his head. “I definitely don't feel like one right now. I feel like I’m going to puke at any moment.”
I pick up my own glass of whiskey, swirling the couple cubes of ice around in it. I look out over the ocean again and feel more settled than I've ever felt in my whole life. With Kaia at my side, I'm pretty sure I could just live my whole life and never leave this boat. It has some possibilities, for sure.
I sit back and enjoy the sun on my skin. Lucas leans forward in his chair, his expression pinching.
“What are we doing out here, Calum? I mean, other than finding out which one of us was born to be a pirate.”
A rumble of laughter leaves my chest. “I thought it might be nice to get away from the city while we talk about our plans for what is next.”
“Could you be any more vague than that?” My brother grouses. “What you mean, what's next. In life? For the company? For you and Kaia?”
I sip my whiskey and think about how to answer his question. “I feel like they are one in the same. I feel like answering the question of what is next for myself and Kaia, what is next in life… that answers the question of what is next for the company. Doesn't it?”
Lucas looks exasperated. “I don't know. That's why we are here, I guess.”
I gesture to him, flopping my hand over and back a few times. “Nothing critical is going to be decided today. This is just a conversation that will probably lead to another conversation. I just want to make sure that you don't feel left behind when I leave the company.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Leave the company? What you mean?”
I answer him by shooting him a look. “What do you think I mean? I think we both have known for a while now that my time with the company is almost up.”
“I feel like you could've told me that.” He shoots a hard look out across the water, squinting into the sun.
I give him humorless laugh. “I am telling you, Lucas. That's what I'm trying to do, at least. I'm not springing anything on you. I'm not leaving the company tomorrow. But you done a great job running everything. Now it's time for me to step away. What that will look like exactly, I don't know…”
“Is this because of Kaia?” he asks.
I purse my lips and look at him for half a minute. “It's partially because of Kaia, yes. I want to spend more time with her. When she gets time off from working at the ballet company, I want to take her someplace. Maybe Rio. Maybe the Greek islands. Maybe both of those places. I don't know. But I think the first step to being unmoored is going to be cutting the tethers I created for myself here.” I look at him frankly. “You don't need me. You haven't needed me this entire time that I've been working with the ballet company. Hell, before that even.”
He shakes his head. “I’m always going to need you, Calum.”
“And you'll always have me. I'm always here. I'm as far away as the time it takes to dial a phone. But you don't need me as the face of the company anymore. You can take it in a different direction or make investments that I don't have to give my rubber stamp of approval on. Whatever you want.”
He looks down into his glass, brooding silently. Lucas stays quiet for a solid minute and I lean back with a sigh.
“I’m not going anywhere. You know that. I don't want you to think that just because I am leaving the company that I'm going to be leaving you.”
He looks up at me, his frosty blue gaze so like my own. �
�Are you sure?”
I nod slowly. “Yep. Completely and absolutely sure. This is really just finishing what I already started. Transferring the rest of the company into your name. Divesting however much money I think I will need for the next few years.” I shrug. “That's it. Sign some documents, start a new page.”
Lucas nods very slowly, clearly digesting what I have told him. “Okay.”
I reuse my eyebrows at him. “Okay?”
He shrugs and nods again. “I won't stand in your way if that's what you honestly want to do. I can't say I blame you at all. You've found someone that makes you happy, apparently so…”
I squint at him. “One day, I’m going to marry her.”
Lucas's lips lift. “I told you that months ago. I saw the way that you looked at her and I just knew. So there is nothing that is too surprising there.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Kaia says that she wants kids. Which is a complete dealbreaker for me.”
He groans. “Why? I mean, you already have everything you've ever wanted. Now that you found each other you can just go live your fairytale lives in your castle in the sky or whatever…”
I chuckle. “I said the same thing to her. I mean, I use less ridiculous language. But yeah, that's exactly what I said.”
Lucas eyes me. “What about Anita?”
Just the sound of her name makes my heart start pitter-patterning against my ribs. “What about her?” My mouth twists bitterly. “I assume that you are still giving her a place to live?”
His cheeks redden very slightly. He nods. “I am. I mean, not because she deserves that. After what you told me… About how you guys… How she demanded sex in return for the luxury we lived in…”
I clear my throat and shift in my seat, looking away. “Yeah, I know exactly what I said to you.”
“Right.” He purses his lips, seeming to consider his words carefully. “So after you said what you said, I was going to put her out on the street. And then the doctor came to me with a terminal diagnosis.”