by Jayne Frost
I ducked inside, my feet growing roots when I noticed the large figure occupying one of the four seats. I was about to back out when the giant looked over his shoulder at me.
“About time,” Daryl drawled, glancing me over with a smirk. “The show is about to start.”
We hadn’t seen each other since the day Gelsey had picked up her stuff at my house. As soon as she was gone, he’d left too. And he’d never come back.
Shaking my head, I dropped into the seat beside him. “Fancy meeting you here.”
He grunted. “Not here for you. I’m here for Gelsey.”
A lump formed in my throat as I pulled out my phone and pointed it to the ceiling.
“Me too, brother. Me too.”
Nerves had my leg bouncing as I waited through five different acts to see the only dancer I cared about. According to the program, Gelsey was to perform a short piece entitled Emerald, from Balanchine’s Jewels ballet.
Butterflies exploded in my stomach when a pale green spotlight engulfed the stage.
Daryl leaned forward in his seat. The first spark of interest he’d shown all night.
And then, she was there. So still, like an angel, with her gaze cast to the heavens.
Soft, romantic music drifted from the orchestra pit, lifting her to her toes, and I held my breath. Or…maybe she’d stolen all the air. Captured it, and let it carry her across the stage, as if she weighed nothing at all.
Breathe, you idiot.
I did, but only so I wouldn’t have to stop watching.
The tempo changed, and she soared like a bird, her feet barely skimming the ground as she floated from one move to the next.
To my eyes, Gelsey was flawless. But it was more than that. She became the music.
That was her gift. Not a perfect arabesque, or even the extraordinary strength she needed to be able to do all of this with a broken back.
Frozen in time, I remained transfixed as she commanded the stage.
The final notes swelled to a crescendo, then tapered away, leaving her alone with the green spotlight trained on her perfectly still form.
Thunderous applause filled the theater, and before Gelsey took her curtsey, the joy in her eyes shone brighter than the sun.
My sun. In my sky.
Forever.
Gelsey
Sasha took one look at me when I slipped from the restroom and burst out laughing. I glanced down at my skinny jeans and silk blouse, then back to her shimmery gold mini dress that barely covered her ass.
Spinning for the mirror, she proceeded to apply another coat of red lipstick. Not that she needed it. “You were not invited to any of the after-parties?” she gloated.
I was. All of them, in fact. But even though I’d just danced the performance of my life, I was still a little sad. Miles wasn’t here. And that cut my joy in half.
Eventually, the ache would subside. I’d survived the loss of my mother. The abandonment of my father. But right now, there was a hole in my heart that no amount of applause could fill.
Answering Sasha’s question with a little shrug, I took a seat in front of the lighted mirror where all her cosmetics were laid out. Pausing with the lipstick an inch from her pouty lips, she glared at me for having the temerity to sit next to her. Even though I’d left a stool between us.
Foolishly, I thought after tonight, I’d earn her respect. Because I understood Sasha. And I knew how fragile the mind of a dancer was. Regardless of the hard shell, doubt and fear and lies whispered louder than applause.
She’d been cast as the ruby to my emerald in tonight’s performance. Both of us with solos. Simon had misstepped by making us equals. Upped the ante on our rivalry.
Maybe he thought it would bring out the best in us. And who knows? If I were in Sasha’s shoes, I might react the same way. Doubtful. Since I had a soul and she was a hell hound with pretty bones, good hair, and a beguiling smile.
Sasha dropped her lipstick tube and straightened her spine. “You may have stolen that piece from my sister tonight.” She smoothed a hand over the shiny fabric on her dress. “But know this—” Cold blue eyes met mine in the mirror. “It takes more than minor talent to make it in this city. Personality. Je ne sais quoi.” She flipped her wrist as if to dismiss me. Not just my presence. My entire being. “You have none of those things. You are merely trading on the name and resemblance of your dead mother.”
That was it. I was done. Fire leaped from the pit of my stomach, my fingers clenching in my lap to keep from jumping up and wringing her pretty neck. “Don’t you ever, ever speak about my mother. Or I will end you, Sasha. I’m not kidding.”
Her eyes twinkled. But before she could say a word, someone cleared their throat from the doorway.
In tandem, our heads whipped in that direction.
Ivan was there, leaning against the frame, frozen arctic ponds leveled on Sasha. The temperature dropped by ten degrees, and I swear I saw her shiver.
“Still a spoiled child,” he mused, then inhaled deeply, shaking his head. “I saw it in you from the first day.” He stepped inside, still a good distance away, but Sasha backed up as if pushed by an invisible hand. “Your sister?” he shrugged. “There was still hope for her. But in the end, you corrupted her too.”
Sasha’s throat bobbed, the blood draining from her face, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.
Ivan laughed. “You have nothing to say? A pity. Vy talantlivy s chernym serdtsem, i poetomu ne stoit moyego vremeni. Togda ili seychas.”
I winced, and Sasha’s gaze shot to mine. I had understood every word. And somehow that made it worse.
You are talented with a black heart, and therefore not worth my time. Then or now.
“Do not look at her,” Ivan snapped, his tone low and lethal, as serious as I’d ever heard. “She is not here for you to ridicule. She is here to dance. And if I find out that you are speaking ill to her, I will have this same talk with Simon.” His smile was cold enough to cause frostbite. “Vy ponimayete?”
He waited for her jerky nod to shift his attention to me. “I will meet you outside by the fountain, dorogaya moya. We are having dinner with Tatiana to discuss your future.”
He threw that last part in to drive his point home. He had power here.
No, Ivan was not a part of this company. But he could’ve been. He could’ve been anything. Instead, he moved to Texas. Out of love for a woman he’d never have. And he stayed there because of me.
My throat burned as I swallowed tears of gratitude. And love. But all I could manage was a nod.
Once he was gone, I met Sasha’s gaze in the mirror. Her eyes skittered away, fear replacing all her bravado.
It is better to show mercy than to gloat when you have the upper hand.
Ivan had taught me that too.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sasha. So you’d better get used to it.” She nodded as she stuffed her cosmetics in the bag, her hand going still as I scooted closer. “But we don’t have to be enemies. We don’t have to be friends either. We can simply be. Peredyshka?”
It was too soon for me to offer her a hand. She might bite it off.
After a moment of contemplation, she lifted her chin. Still proud and fierce.
“Truce.”
Smiling, I pushed to my feet and applied a light coat of lip gloss before heading out the door.
Ivan and Tatiana were waiting by the fountain when I arrived. They didn’t notice me at first, their heads together. He wore a smile I’d never seen, and she was practically glowing. My gaze fell to their joined hands, and a little twinge of something pinched in my chest.
Not jealousy. Well, maybe a little. Ivan was the only father figure I’d ever had. And I didn’t want anyone taking him away from me. But seeing him like this—relaxed and smiling—brought more joy than anything else. In all these years, Ivan had never dated. And I desperately wanted him to find happiness.
Selfishly, I also knew if he were seeing Tatiana, he’d probably spend mo
re time in New York.
Separating as soon as they spotted me, their hands fell to their sides.
Tatiana, who’d never projected anything but total confidence, looked down at her shoes. Was she blushing?
“Hey,” I said, stepping into their little half circle.
“’Hay’ is for horses, dorogaya moya,” Ivan said, his tone playful. “Did you escape Sasha’s clutches unscathed?”
Tatiana’s head snapped up, her gaze clouding with apprehension
“We’ve come to an understanding.” I smiled. “A peredyshka.” Ivan pressed his lips in a thin line. He may have preached discretion, but he abhorred weakness. It was a fine line with him.
“She’s going to leave me alone,” I clarified, my tone jovial. “And I’ll do the same. No bloodshed.”
Tatiana’s shoulders curved in what I could only describe as relief.
After an awkward moment of silence, I faked a yawn.
“I’m really tired,” I said with a weary smile. “Do y’all mind if I take a rain check on dinner.”
Disappointment flashed over Ivan’s features. But it didn’t linger. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Positive. It’s been a long night.”
Ivan nodded, pulling me in for a hug. Over his shoulder, Tatiana smiled at me and I smiled back.
“I am so proud of you,” he whispered, running a hand over my hair, now free from the bun and hanging to my waist.
Closing my eyes, I melted against him. “I love you, Ivan.”
We rarely spoke those words to each other. It was a line we didn’t often cross. Teacher. Student. Parent. Child. Our roles were ever changing.
“I love you, too,” he whispered back with no hesitation.
And a little piece of my broken heart mended right there on the spot.
I ducked inside the Town Car and flopped onto the seat, exhausted. But happy. Mostly. I’d managed to push Miles to the back of my head for the majority of the evening. I thought his absence might tarnish my triumph, but it hadn’t. Strangely enough, I’d felt him with me in every pirouette and arabesque. The piece of him I still carried in my heart.
The partition slid down, and Lenny twisted to offer me a smile. “Congratulations, Ms. Gelsey.”
I smiled back. “Just Gelsey. And thank you.”
“Where to? One of those after-parties in mid-town? Or—?”
“The brownstone.”
His lips fell into a frown. Great. Now I was getting pity from the man getting paid to guard me from no one. He must’ve been bored to tears since I never went anywhere. Tomorrow, I’d contact Daryl and tell him to convince Miles to let this go. Nobody was following me. Or harassing me. Except Sasha.
I smiled because maybe that was over now too.
“Whatever you say, Ms., er, Gelsey,” he said. “It might be a few minutes. The traffic is terrible, what with the performance tonight.”
I nodded. Where did I have to be anyway? Nowhere.
I reached into my bag for my phone as the partition slid into place. Blinking at the screen, my heart stalled when I saw the text from Miles. A photo of the ceiling of the performance hall.
Was this some kind of joke?
With shaky fingers, I opened the app and tapped furiously on the glass to enlarge the picture.
There was no message attached. No words.
The car made a right turn, slipping into traffic, just as the phone buzzed in my hand. Another photo. This one of the sky. Leaves encroached on the corners of the frame. I’d spent enough time staring at those leaves over the past month to recognize them. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
The air left my body in a rush when a message flashed across the screen, along with another picture. This one left no doubt where he was.
Waiting for you.
“Stop!” I croaked, my finger jamming the button for the intercom in rapid succession.
The partition went down, and Lenny peered into the back seat, alarm etching his features. “What is it, Miss Gelsey?”
I whipped my head to the window and scanned the street, trying to figure out where we were. Sixty-Fifth Street.
“Let me out!” I said, sliding to the door. I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t work. “I said: let me out!”
Lenny continued to pepper me with questions I didn’t hear as the car coasted to a stop. The locks clicked, and I jumped out, assaulted by exhaust fumes and the sounds of the bustling city.
But none of that mattered. My only focus was the cluster of trees a block away.
Central Park. And Miles.
Miles
Lightning crashed, illuminating a piece of sky in the distance as I waited on our bench in Central Park
Ten yards away, Daryl leaned against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, scanning the area for threats.
With the rain starting to fall lightly, people scattered like ants. Likely trying to find a place to take cover before the inevitable downpour.
Letting my head fall back, I took a deep breath. There was no smoke. No burning sky. No voices. Just the soft patter of droplets against my skin.
My phone was lifeless in my hand; no response from Gelsey to my messages.
Maybe she wasn’t coming.
And that was all right.
Tomorrow, I’d visit her at the brownstone. If she wouldn’t see me then, I’d wait for her by the stage door at Lincoln Center.
Stalker.
Possibly. But I wasn’t going anywhere until she told me to fuck off. In words. Maybe not those words. But if she told me we were through, I’d let her go. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. Though, it might feel like it.
Pushing the thought aside, I picked up the bouquet of paper flowers. Beautiful, but not worthless, since each of the blooms were crafted from one of Gelsey’s poems. Copies. I had the originals tucked safely in my suitcase. They were hers, and I’d give them back. But for now, I’d guard her thoughts and dreams. The good ones and the bad.
I felt her before I saw her, a prickle of awareness drawing my attention to the tree-lined course. She stopped at the entrance to the memorial, the invisible boundary where the benches formed a circle.
Rain clung to her hair, the droplets shimmering like tiny diamonds under the street lamp. When it was clear she wasn’t going to budge, I pushed to my feet, fist clutched tightly around the stems of her roses.
“You’re here,” she said when I stopped two feet in front of her.
I wanted to take her in my arms. Lick the rain from her skin. And tell her how much I’d missed her. How much I loved her. But I was getting way ahead of myself.
Friendship.
That was all she’d offered in those pictures she’d sent. But her poems told a different story.
I held out the bouquet. “Where else would I be?”
A smile ghosted her lips as she reached for the offering. “You brought me flowers.”
This girl. So easy to please.
“Actually, they’re poems.” I inched toward her as her fingertips glided over one of the blooms.
The ink was beginning to run now, blurring the words. But that didn’t matter. I knew them all by heart.
“Poems?” Her brows pinched together as she examined one of the petals. “You are my…”
When she tilted her head, turning the flower to get a better look, I placed a finger under her chin, coaxing her gaze to mine. “You are my mirror. And through your eyes, I see the me I wish I was.”
Her lips parted, shock painting her features.
I smiled, thumb skating over the curve of her jaw. “It’s one of my favorites. If I had to choose.”
She blinked at me. “But…how?”
“I found your book of poetry in the pool house.” Flinching at the clap of thunder, I let my gaze snap to the sky.
“That was close,” I joked, hoping she couldn’t hear the anxiety in my voice.
Sheppard was helping me work through my bullshit. But I might never be completely at ease in a storm.
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Gelsey’s hands framed my face, coaxing my eyes to hers, where there were no clouds. Just endless blue.
Levering up on her toes, she pressed a kiss to my lips.
“You’re okay.”
And for the first time since she walked out of my life, I actually believed it.
Miles
Soaked to the skin, we stumbled into the suite at the Ritz. Gelsey paused in the foyer, dripping water onto the marble floor as her gaze crawled over every inch of the room. When she came full circle and those baby blues landed on me, a smile curved her lips.
“You got the same room.”
I could play it off. Tell her that every suite at the Ritz looked the same. But why bother? I was trying to win her back.
“Yep.”
Fighting desperately to hide the heat creeping up my cheeks, I looked down and shook the water out of my hair.
I went solid when I felt her at my back. She wasn’t touching me. But her warmth. And that scent. Lavender and rain and…her.
My carefree smile melted like cherry ice cream when I turned and she frowned up at me.
“What are you doing here, Miles?”
No easing into it with this girl. Her eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when I ran my hands from her elbows to her shoulders. Good. I still affected her. “You’re cold. Why don’t you jump in the shower and—”
She tilted her head. “So you want to fuck? I guess I should be flattered that you flew all this way to get me into bed.”
Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as she waited for me to speak. But I was too stunned. Shocked stupid.
Fuck her?
Is that what she thought?
When I didn’t answer, she sighed as she fiddled with the button on her blouse.
My hands closed over hers. “No.” The word flew out with more force than I intended, ricocheting around the room. “That’s not…I didn’t…”
“Then what, Miles?”
Her voice was small. Hesitant. But those eyes. Like blue steel. Battle lines were drawn, her on one side and me on the other. Words were our weapons. And they cut deeper than any sword.