“Just take the compliment, Alexia.”
She grinned as Mrs. Beaumont announced their lunch break.
“Finally! I’m starving!” Kelly cried, tugging her hair from the constraints of its bun until it framed her heart-shaped face.
“Has anyone ever told you that your hair is ridiculously shiny?” Alexia asked. “What shampoo do you use?”
“Some organic brand. But it’s not the shampoo, it’s my diet. Salmon and chia seeds are the secrets to luscious locks, or anything else high in omega-3.”
“Noted. Know anywhere I can get that for lunch around here?”
Kelly scrunched her nose. “You only have one week to consume as much French food as humanly possible. Salmon and chia seeds are for when you get home. But I did find a great bistro around the corner. Want to check it out?”
Alexia’s eyes darted in search of Chloe, wondering where she was going for lunch. Every day that week, Chloe had disappeared without a trace during the hour-long break. Alexia hoped now that she was getting closer to Chloe, she might snag an invite to one of her secret midday escapes. But that day wasn’t any different. Alexia’s spirits sank when Chloe was nowhere to be found, wondering if she had at least remembered their planned outing that evening. Chloe hadn’t so much as looked in her direction all morning.
Burying her disappointment with a strained smile, Alexia turned back to Kelly. “I’d love to.”
Kelly wasn’t lying when she said she’d found a hidden gem. In addition to its quintessential French charm, the bistro lived up to the notoriously high French cuisine standards. Each bite of her dish was a taste of heaven, and although Alexia tried to refrain from heavy lunches on rehearsal days, she couldn’t resist gobbling down a three-course meal.
“I’m going to throw up all over the stage.”
Her voice was full of regret as she pushed an empty cheese board away.
“But was it worth it?” Kelly asked, seemingly delighted with their culinary indulgence.
“Absolutely.”
It turned out Kelly wasn’t the only one who had discovered the local bistro. A minute later, four other dancers waltzed through the door. Sara, the tall blonde who was all legs from Sweden; Ida, the petite but funky representative of Norway; Paulo, the loudest of the lot from Brazil, who was also Alexia’s partner for the pas de quatre; and Olaf, the principal male dancer from Russia.
“Where have you guys been?” Kelly called to them like they were old friends. “We’re already on dessert.”
“Ida said we had to branch out,” Sara replied, pushing a table beside theirs. “But we were dreaming of the cheese platter here, so agreed to come afterward.”
“Monsieur,” she called to the waiter, “four cheese platters, please!”
As soon as she ordered, her eyes fell on Alexia.
“You’re dancing beautifully today.”
Abashed by the compliment, Alexia could only mumble her thanks.
“No, really. Those hops on pointe were the most graceful I’ve ever seen executed. It looked like you were being pulled up by a string. Bravo.”
“That’s what I said!” Kelly chimed in. “I think she was holding out on us this whole time so we didn’t feel intimidated.”
There was a light pressure on Alexia’s arm as Kelly nudged her.
“Well, I wouldn’t say everyone is performing their best today,” Paulo said, hanging his beret on the back of his chair.
Sara lifted her eyes at him, which were as blue as a cloudless sky. “I hope you’re not referring to me.”
“Never!” Paulo swept a hand over his heart as though the suggestion was a hit to his pride. “I’m talking about someone…I like less.”
Sara’s face softened in relief before she whispered so low that Alexia had to press her chest into the edge of the table to hear.
“Chloe?”
Paulo raised thick eyebrows, granting confirmation without words.
Oh, God. Here we go.
“What are you talking about?” Olaf piped in. “She’s marvellous.”
Alexia wanted to lean over and kiss the Russian square on the lips. Paulo’s quick reply cut the urge short.
“She’s marvelous, and she knows it.”
Across the table, Alexia caught the beginning of a smile form on Kelly’s lips.
Olaf at least was firm in his stance. “Oh, don’t be so hard on her. Especially after what she’s been through… That poor family.”
Alexia’s ears pricked. “What happened?”
Eyes gleaming with emotion, Olaf shook his head like he had let something slip that he wasn’t supposed to.
“It’s not for me to share. All I can tell you is that Chloe has gone through things that no one should ever have to go through.”
Alexia’s gaze dropped to her empty plate, imagining all the horrendous things that might have happened to the principal dancer. From Olaf’s tone, it must have been serious. Alexia’s heart opened wider to Chloe for it. No wonder she danced like that. Chloe’s skill wasn’t just a product of immaculate execution, but something else that came from within…tragedy fed her talent.
Paulo waved a careless hand in the air. “You’re ruining my appetite. Let’s talk about something fun. Tell me about your boyfriends back home.”
His sight landed on Kelly first, eyes embedded with a degree of expectancy.
“Don’t look at me,” she responded. “All the guys at my academy are either taken or gay.”
“I didn’t say he had to be from your academy.”
“Where else am I going to meet someone when my every waking moment is spent there?”
The laughter that followed was tainted with the sad note of truth.
“What about you, Paulo?” she shot back. “Any lovers back home?”
“Actually, I have three.”
“At least one of us is getting laid. Maybe you can share them around.”
He turned incredulously to Sara, Ida, and Alexia. “You mean you’re all single? What a waste!”
Alexia couldn’t help but smile, wondering if she would have a different answer to Paulo’s question in a few weeks’ time. Then reality dawned on her as cold as the air outside. She didn’t have a few weeks. In a few days, she’d be gone. Flown home. One date with Leo was all she had left, hardly enough time for their casual fling to evolve into a serious relationship.
Paulo tore her from her despair.
“Ah!” he shouted, bolting upright. “Five minutes til show time. Well, rehearsal time, but whatever, you get me.” He turned to the waiter with the exasperation of someone watching a building go up in flames. “Monsieur! To go, please! Pack the cheese up!”
After pulling on his beret with a quick jerk, Paolo ushered everyone to the tiny counter to pay their bills.
“In my entire dancing career, I have never, I repeat, never been late to anything, and I won’t be breaking that record today. Especially to keep someone like Mrs. Beaumont waiting. What a doll! Have you ever met anyone like her?”
Alexia joined in with the loudest agreement of them all as she swiped her card through the payment machine. Before she had a chance to return it to her wallet, Paulo was at the far end of the restaurant, letting in a frigid gale as he opened the door.
“Allons-y!”
Under Paulo’s pressing pace, they made it back to the opera house in the nick of time, plopping down on the stage to warm up.
Chloe was the last to enter. Alexia rolled into a left split, trying to catch her attention as she took her usual spot downstage. Despite Alexia’s best efforts, Chloe remained aloof to her attempted eye contact, or worse, intentionally dismissive. With rising self-doubt, Alexia wondered if she’d been hasty in her decision to turn down dinner with her friends. There was a good chance Chloe had forgotten all about her—made other plans.
Chloe transitioned poses, lifting her slender torso from where it had been bent over her knees. In the motion, her head cocked toward Alexia, and their eyes finally met. Heart in her
throat, Alexia waited for Chloe’s reaction. Slowly but surely, the principal dancer’s lips stretched into a dazzling grin, bestowing Alexia with all the reassurance she needed.
She hadn’t forgotten.
With her every worry evaporated, Alexia became one with the stage. When the lights dimmed for the start of the afternoon session, all that consumed her focus was her reaction to the flow of music through dance. As the number wore on, Alexia broke free from gravity’s leash, ascending somewhere between heaven and earth. A space between.
“Bravo!” Mrs. Beaumont applauded at the end of the day with a thunderous clap, her excitement so extreme that English failed her. “C’était parfait. Absolument parfait!”
“Pretty sure that means she liked it,” Kelly said through her teeth as they filed into a line to practice the curtain bow.
“Do that on Saturday and you’ll be the talk of the town,” Mrs. Beaumont continued, transitioning out of French. “Rest well tonight. It’s just as important as practice. Now, off you go. Eat, sleep, and be merry. Until tomorrow, you talented bunch.”
Alexia lingered at the edge of the stage, unsure of how to attract Chloe’s attention. Mrs. Beaumont solved the issue for her when she called out to the principal dancer. All Alexia had to do now was take her time in the dressing room. If luck was on her side, the other dancers would be long gone by the time Chloe was finished with her chat.
“Coming?”
Alexia blinked back to reality. Kelly had paused midway to the exit, looking over her shoulder.
“Right behind you,” Alexia sighed.
Excited chatter bounced off the rose-colored walls of the dressing room with all the dancers in high spirits. Everyone was thrilled with how the rehearsal had gone. When the compliments ran dry, the conversation turned to that evening’s dinner plans.
“That restaurant across from the hotel was to die for!” Sara said. “Why not go there again?”
Ida wasn’t convinced. “Can’t we try something new? I spoke with the concierge this morning and he was raving about a bistro not far from where we’re staying.”
“I’m up for that as long as we can go early,” Kelly agreed, buttoning the top of her coat. “How is it I’m starved even after the lunch I ate?”
Her words seemed to make everyone aware of their own hunger, because their hands worked double time to pull on scarves, jackets, and boots. Alexia was the only one who idled.
“Are you going to come to dinner?” Kelly asked with an encouraging smile.
Alexia fiddled with a bobby pin, ashamed for not reciprocating the invitation. She wondered if feeling uncomfortable about inviting others without Chloe’s consent was the true reason for her silence, or if it was because she wanted Chloe all to herself. She cringed, shoving the last thought back to where it had come from.
“Sorry, I’ll have to give this one a miss. I’ve already made plans,” Alexia replied with neither truth nor lie.
“Do your plans have anything to do with that hot guy from the lobby last night?” Sara asked unexpectedly.
“I—How did you…”
“What’s this?” Kelly demanded, combing her fingers through her bob. “It’s only been three days and you’ve already found love in the city of love?”
Alexia flushed. “It’s not love. I mean, how can you love anyone you’ve just met?”
“It’s called love at first sight! Don’t tell me you don’t believe in it.”
Alexia raised her hands in an indecisive pose. “I believe in lust at first sight. I’m not so sure about love at first sight.”
But her mind was already sailing back to Xander, remembering the first day they had met in the woods. An instant attraction had transcended the air, instilling her with the feeling that she’d been asleep for her whole life and had just woken up. That had been more than lust. She wasn’t sure if it had been love off the bat, but it had been something. Something strong. Something real. Something supernatural. When the word popped into her head, she laughed.
Supernatural, indeed.
And maybe that was the reason for it. She’d never shared a connection to the same degree with anyone since. Although she had come close the first time she’d met Leo, she still put her emotions down to lust. Love might blossom, but it had started with attraction.
“What’s so funny?” Kelly asked.
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking you’re right. Stranger things have happened than love at first sight.”
Kelly eyed her suspiciously but didn’t probe further. With a touch of impatience, she asked, “Are you even getting ready? Don’t tell me you’re planning on going back out there. You heard, Mrs. Beaumont. Your body needs to rest.”
Alexia shifted her gaze down to her leotard and ribboned ankles. She hadn’t even removed her pointe shoes.
“I’m just taking my time shutting down. You guys go ahead. I might see you around the hotel tonight. If not, bright and early tomorrow.”
Kelly smiled as she twisted a navy scarf around her neck. “Is your lover boy picking you up from here?”
“Just go,” Alexia said, developing the same short tone she only reserved for her friends.
The ballerinas bundled themselves in their remaining garments and vanished out the door, leaving a slew of accented “goodbyes” in their wake. Alexia plopped down on the dressing bench, enjoying a few minutes of meditative silence. Before long she was staring at the stage door like a lonely dog awaiting the arrival of its master. Silence grew heavier with each second it remained shut. No voices could be heard from the auditorium, and anxiety began to prick at her. There were multiple exits Chloe and Mrs. Beaumont might have left through, while she sat alone, waiting for someone who might never come. Alexia didn’t know how much time had passed, but when her legs began to cramp, she stood. She started for the stage door with an apprehensive tread, acknowledging the possibility that Chloe and Mrs. Beaumont were still in there, exchanging a private word that wasn’t meant to be overhead. Alexia decided to open the door slowly. One peek was all she needed.
The handle was cool against her palm. Abnormally so…cold as ice. Driven by an urge to release it, Alexia pushed the door open quickly, ready to wedge it with her foot. The second it swung back, Alexia froze. Someone was standing on the other side of the door, inches from her face.
“Did I scare you?” Chloe asked. “You’re the one who almost knocked me out. Move aside and let me in.”
As feeling was restored to Alexia’s legs, she hastily jumped aside to let the principal dancer through.
Chloe waltzed in with a verve that made it impossible to tell that she’d just finished a rigorous eight-hour practice. Mindful of her own loud heaves for air induced by her still-pounding heart, Alexia closed her mouth.
“Did you bring clothes?” Chloe asked.
Alexia nodded half-heartedly. “Yes, but I wasn’t sure where we were going. Does the place have a dress code?”
Chloe began to pluck the bobby pins out of her bun until her hair flowed around her petite shoulders in luxurious waves. “Oh, come off it Alexia. With your looks, you could get into any bar in this city wearing a trash bag. But I was thinking we could have some drinks on the rooftop first, then take to the town. What do you say? I have champagne chilling on ice as we speak.”
Alexia spluttered to find her voice, lost in a sea of unfolding daydreams. Chloe had champagne chilling on ice for her? It was just a shame she couldn’t have any.
“How about a soda?”
“I think we can find something for you,” Chloe laughed. “Now, come on.”
Slipping out of her leotard in a hurry, Alexia cursed herself for all the time she’d wasted doing nothing instead of getting ready. Once dressed, she dashed to the vanity mirror to volumize her lashes, and bronze her cheeks. All the while, her eyes flickered to Chloe, envying her effortless beauty.
“Almost ready?”
Alexia applied the finishing touch—the lipstick she still had from Carrie.
“Yo
u clean up well,” Chloe commented when Alexia stepped back into her line of sight.
“And you don’t need to clean up at all.”
Chloe flicked her hair. “People think it’s a blessing, but it’s really a curse.”
“To have looks to die for?”
“No, I was talking about makeup. I stopped wearing it a few years ago. It’s a lie to me, putting on a face for the world to see when all you’re really showing them is a mask. Makes it impossible for anyone to see the real you.”
The comment threw Alexia for a loop. She was sure that she’d seen Chloe wearing makeup the night of her boyfriend’s party. Then again, maybe she didn’t wear it often. The thought made Alexia smile, backing her assumption that Chloe was only misunderstood. Living with the pressure she had to withstand would have been exhausting, always painting a picture the world wanted to see, while her true disposition was buried deep inside.
“Should I take it off?” Alexia asked, more out of self-consciousness than respect.
“No, leave it. Paris doesn’t know you. Better to hide, while you can. It will devour you if you give it the chance.”
Something in her tone chilled the air, and goosebumps broke the smooth surface of Alexia’s skin. Chloe fed the darkening atmosphere when she raised her hand, pointing to the ceiling.
“Now, up we go.”
CHAPTER 8
The sun had set by the time Alexia followed Chloe out of the dressing room. Curtains of night had been pulled over the windows of the Opéra Magique, suffocating the natural light of day.
As she exited, Alexia paused at the wall that had transformed so monstrously the day before. It was exactly as it should have been, alight with nothing more than the soft glow from the chandeliers overhead.
“This way,” Chloe said.
She turned away from the foyer, leading Alexia deeper into the heart of the building. They passed portraits and sculptures that Alexia was dying to ask about, but Chloe’s pace made it impossible, forcing her to soak up the building in silence.
Soon they reached the bottom of a staircase worthy of a place on the Titanic. The detailing on the handrail was so exquisite, it seemed unworthy of human touch.
Black Frost Winter: The Black Seasons Book Two Page 11