by J Q Anderson
A silent moment passed, and I nodded.
“I mean it. Jesus, you are my sister. You think I would let anyone hurt you?” She sighed. “What do you want to do?”
“I’m not ready to move in with him. We’ve only just met. And even if that’s what I wanted, I wouldn’t do it now. Not like this.”
“Good.” She gave my hand an affectionate squeeze. “I know this whole situation sucks. But you’re sort of in it now, and I need you.”
“What can I do?”
“All we need is for you to explain our side to Sebastián and let him know Sergei’s commitment to handle things personally. He needs to know we don’t go near drugs. That’s our only hope they’ll let us back in. And I promise we will not ask anything else of you. You have my word. Sergei”—she looked at her brother who had resumed his pacing—“maybe you and the guys should stay away from here for a few days. Give Camila some air to come and go without causing her problems with Sebastián. He needs to know he can trust us. After all, this really does not concern her. You have to show him you won’t involve her again.”
Sergei’s jaw tensed, but after a moment, he nodded.
Nata turned to me. “I’m meeting Marcos and the others for dinner at Piola in an hour.” She smiled weakly. “Come with us?”
I ran my hand through my hair. Was I already picking up Sebastián’s habits? “Sebastián’s waiting downstairs. I made plans to have dinner with him.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “It’s going to be all right. Thanks for listening to our side. I needed you to hear all this from me.”
Downstairs, I bumped into Marcos when I stepped out of the elevator. He had been staying with Carla for a few days, so I hadn’t seen him much outside of work. He wrapped one arm around my waist and spun me around. I gasped, holding on to his biceps as I searched the foyer. On the other side of the glass Sebastián stood, facing away with his phone to his ear. Panic gripped my chest and I quickly wiggled out of Marcos’s arms.
“What are you doing here?” I said.
“Came to get a few things. Hmm…” he said, leaning close again. “Why do you smell like dude perfume?” He pulled back and squinted. “Ralph Lauren?”
“Marcos.” I pushed him back, my heart pounding and my eyes trained on Sebastián’s back. Marcos turned his head at the foyer, then faced me.
“What’s up?” He chuckled. “Why are you so feisty?”
“Sebastián’s waiting outside, and I really don’t need any more confrontations.”
He gave a sulky nod, then squeezed my hand. “Come to dinner with us.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” I kissed his cheek and rushed to the foyer.
I pushed through the door and Sebastián turned, ending his call. He glanced at the elevator closing behind me and scowled. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” I said, nodding.
“Was that Marcos?”
“Yes, he’s staying at Carla’s and was just picking up a few things. Wanna go?”
“You don’t have a bag.” He frowned. “You’re not spending the night with me?”
“I have an early day tomorrow. I’d rather be here tonight.”
“Was Sergei in the apartment?”
“Yes, both he and Nata were there. We talked. I’ll tell you everything, but can we go out to dinner? I know it’s early, but I’m starving.”
I curled up against Sebastián in the plush, white couches of Bistro Sur at the Faena Hotel. Unusual and too extravagant for my taste, it reminded me of a setting from the movie Moulin Rouge. Sebastián had to briefly meet with one of the owners about an architectural project beforehand, so this saved him a step. It had been a long day for both of us.
“I’m so tired.” I yawned. “And I ate too much.”
“You hardly ate half of your meal.”
“It was still too much.”
He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. “I don’t want you to be away tonight. I’ll miss you.”
“This is easier and we’re both tired. I’ll see you later this week, and we have the weekend.”
“Camila,” he said, running his fingers through the length of my hair. “I know it’s soon, but I meant it when I said I want you to move in with me.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across my mouth, and I kissed it.
“It’s way too soon. Besides, when we’re ready to do that, I want it to be our decision. I don’t want to move in with you because we’re forced into it.”
“We’re not being forced into it. It’s what I want. The situation with the Zchestakovas just expedited it.”
I shook my head. “Not like this. I need time.”
He pulled me onto his lap. “Will you at least think about it?” His mouth hovered over mine. I closed my eyes and kissed him.
“I don’t want to rush into this, Sebas.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, nuzzling my nose. “I’ll wait. Though, you should know, patience is not my best quality.”
“You think?” I smiled ruefully, sliding back onto my seat. “Sebas…” I weighed my words. “I know you’ve already answered a lot of my questions today, and that means so much to me, because it means you trust me, and you’re finally letting me in. I don’t want to abuse that, but I want to talk to you about Nata and Sergei.”
“Jesus, what now?” he said as he gestured at the waiter for the bill.
“Nata swore they have nothing to do with the drugs. It was a guy named García.”
“Huh, so they say.”
“I believe her,” I said sternly. “You know it wouldn’t make sense for them to put at risk the relationship they rely on the most.”
“Whatever the case, I’m not involved in all that. I told you, Julián handles their business.”
“Maybe you could talk to Julián, then?”
“No. Why do we keep coming back to this? Let it go.”
I reached for his hand. “Please. I promise I’ll stay out of it from now on. Just do this one thing for me. Please.”
Ire flashed across his eyes. “What the fuck? Why are you getting involved in Sergei’s shit? It doesn’t concern you. This is why I didn’t want to even talk about it. I knew they would try to use you to get to us.”
“They are not using me. They’re desperate. And Nata is my friend. I can’t stand seeing her so hopeless. This isn’t her fault.”
He leaned his head back against the seat and looked away, cursing under his breath. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”
I coerced him to meet my eyes. “Julián will listen to you. I’ve seen how every one of those men responds to you. Rafa, Tano, your father’s men, even Julián. Their body language changes when you walk in the room. They respect you.”
He picked up his keys and took my hand as he stood. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not promising anything.” I stood on my toes and curled my arms tightly around his neck until our mouths met, then kissed him hard, taking him by surprise. His arms wrapped around my back and he gave into the kiss. When we pulled away, we were breathless, and his expression was unsettled, his eyes boring into mine. “You sure know how to put me at your feet,” he breathed. “Let’s go before you ask me for my car keys.”
Chapter 26
In the week that followed, Nata and I did our best to get back into our old routine of being dancers and roommates. It was a bit awkward at first, but I think we both needed to keep that part of our friendship intact.
Opening night was only days away and my nerves were frayed, and not just because of my first performance as a soloist. Introducing my parents to Sebastián throbbed in the back of my mind. I knew Mamá wouldn’t be a problem, but Papá...
It was tech week and that meant rehearsals 24/7, so I only saw Sebastián a few times for lunch. We didn’t discuss Nata’s family further, but I trusted he would handle things. My head was one hundred percent into the rehearsals.
Sergei kept his promise to stay away, and though I suspected he was close by, he didn’t le
t himself or any of the other Russians be seen. Neither he nor Nata brought up the outcome to my conversation with Sebastián. We all waited, silently hoping.
On opening night, the Colón Theater glowed with the timeless charm that made its name famous. With the eclecticism typical of the twentieth century, gold trim and burgundy velvet adorned every inch of its interior. Romantic touches of the Italian Renaissance blended harmoniously with the solidity of German architecture and the pompous exorbitance of the French. Inside the salons, floor-to-ceiling mirrors perpetuated the shimmering gleam of colossal crystal chandeliers.
In the grand foyer, the atmosphere was magical. The air buzzed with vibrant energy. People poured into the main hall in tuxedoes and silky, long gowns. Waiters scurried in and out of the crowd while balancing trays filled with champagne flutes. Anticipation grew as glasses clinked, and when the last call was announced, people hurried to finish their drinks.
Backstage, the main dressing room looked like it had been thrashed by a tornado. As I rushed to my section, I tiptoed around pointe shoes, leg warmers, tights, and all sorts of garments covering the floor. I loved this part of my world and took mental snapshots as I passed. Dancers sat in different positions, sewing ribbons on their shoes, putting on makeup, or stretching wherever they could find open space. Others walked around in various stages of undress, the hard boxes of their satin shoes clacking on the floor.
As soloists, Nata and I were given our own rooms, which provided privacy to get mentally ready. I finished my makeup to the calming sound of the soft classical piece funneling from my portable speaker. The anxiety and fatigue from the past weeks weighed heavily on me. Here I was, getting ready for the most important role I had ever gotten, and I couldn’t shake off that tonight, after the show, the moment I had been dreading would be waiting. Sebastián would meet my parents.
“Hey.” Marcos flashed a smile from the door, startling me. He looked stunning dressed as Prince Albrecht.
I smiled back, immediately comforted by his presence.
“Your first solo.” He bowed deeply and kissed my hand. “You ready?”
“As ready as I’m ever going to be.”
“You look incredible,” he whispered. His eyes were warm, glinting with what I thought was admiration, and…something else. Something sensual. I pretended to check my mascara. “You’re blushing,” he said. “You look stunning.”
Our eyes met in the mirror for a moment, and that familiar warmth that invaded me so many times in the past when we were alone, filled me once again. I shook it off and smirked at him.
“Smart. Sucking up so you can still crash at my place when you’re drunk or Carla kicks your ass out.”
He chuckled, a magic sound. He then took a step toward me, and his smile vanished. Taking my hand, he pulled me up and wrapped his arms around my waist.
I stopped breathing.
“I mean it,” he whispered so close I could almost taste the mint he was playing with between his teeth. “You’re beautiful, Cami, and one helluva dancer. That boyfriend of yours better be a fucking prince to you. Or else.”
I stared deep into those caramel eyes, and the warmth swam in my stomach. I knew in that moment I would never be immune to Marcos being this close. Our mouths were inches apart and I shivered.
“Let’s do this, babe. It’ll be fun.” With a swift kiss on the lips, he took my hand in his, and we hurried to our places in the wings.
Dressed in my villager costume, I shifted my weight between my feet, waiting for the curtain to go up. Behind me, a girl from the corps finished hooking the back of my corset. My first role was a small one, one of Giselle’s friends in the harvest scene. I jogged in place to stay warm and took a few cleansing breaths. A few feet away, the other villagers clustered around the box of rosin, tapping their feet on the white powder.
“Places, places, please!” the stage manager said.
Marcos hugged me from behind. “Merde,” he said to my ear, kissing my neck and sending a shiver.
I grinned and stepped onto the stage on cue with the music.
The performance unfolded like a dream. I knew exactly how the audience was feeling. I knew the entire theater was caught under the spell of Nata dancing the romantic Peasant Pas with liquid-like movements. Where once was air became a vacuum from the audience holding their breath as the innocent spirit of Giselle slowly came alive with every piqué and pirouette.
Marcos was breathtaking as Albrecht. He was the ultimate prince on stage. As if he were suspended in air, he made his leaps appear completely weightless, landing with the utmost precision. He and Nata performed as if every variation had been created exclusively for them. She melted into his movements with flawless grace, like only Nata could. But then, Marcos had the gift to make any partner look stunning. I watched them, mesmerized, as they traveled across the stage with effortless moves that we all knew were anything but. The characters of Giselle and Albrecht required not only the skills of extraordinary dancers, but experienced actors as well. Nata was still considered young for the role, but her talent had proven to be exceptional.
The story circled around Albrecht, a young duke who fell in love with a village girl, Giselle, the moment he laid eyes on her. Engaged to be married to a duchess and not thinking about the future, Albrecht disguised himself as a villager, escaping the castle to meet Giselle secretly. Immediately charmed by Albrecht, Giselle fell helplessly in love. Their romance continued until Hilarion—a villager also seeking Giselle’s love—discovered Albrecht’s ruse and exposed him in front of Giselle and the duchess.
Heartbroken and betrayed, Giselle ran off, then stumbled over a sword and plunged it willingly into her heart. Despite Albrecht’s attempts to revive her with desperate kisses, Giselle’s body lay lifeless on the ground.
Later that night, Albrecht wandered sadly to Giselle’s grave, not knowing Hilarion was there as well. He saw Hilarion dancing by her grave, possessed, and remembered the legend of the Wilis, the spirits of girls who perished for love. According to the legend, the Wilis lured young men to their death by forcing them to dance to exhaustion. Soon, Hilarion collapsed, exhausted, and fell into the lake, drowning. Hungry for another soul, the Wilis sought out Albrecht and brought him before their queen, Myrta. Despite his pleading, Myrta was pitiless and commanded the Wilis to engage Albrecht in a deadly dance. Giselle could not bear to let this happen, and even though she could not disobey her queen, she danced with Albrecht so gently and lovingly, he was able to continue till dawn, when the spirit of the Wilis vanished.
Exhausted, Albrecht finally collapsed, and Giselle had just enough time to revive him with tender kisses as she, too, was compelled to fade. Albrecht survived through the strength of Giselle’s love for him and once again carried her lifeless body in his arms, back to her grave. As the sun began to rise through the trees, Giselle disappeared forever.
I dove into my role as Queen Myrta and got lost in the enchanted story. I became the music with my sisters, dancing in perfect unison around me as the Wilis.
The anguish in Marcos’s face at the loss of Giselle was heart wrenching. I had to hold the tears back, overwhelmed to be on stage with some of the best dancers in the country. They were my family, and we had all worked so hard for this moment. Back at the wing, I panted to recover my breath, wondering what I had done to deserve being here.
We leapt into the final steps of the ballet with our bodies dripping in sweat and our faces glowing. The orchestra ended the last note, and the curtains closed on a heartbroken Albrecht. The audience exploded into deafening applause.
The applause continued for several minutes as the dancers walked in from the wings to take their bows in groups. I caught a quick glimpse of Verónica standing with the corps as a Wili. She shot me an icy glare, a good indication that my performance had been a good one.
I ran from my wing and took a bow, letting the sound of the applause and cheers soak through me. To me, this was the moment when it all came together: the work, the pa
in, the glory.
Marcos held Nata’s hand up as they bowed in unison under a steady stream of whistles and flowers that quickly covered the stage. The crowd cheered louder, and my heart pounded hard against my chest. Somebody handed Nata a huge bouquet of deep-red roses. She nodded her head graciously, thanking the crowd. She then signaled to the maestro, who walked on stage to take a bow himself.
When the curtains finally closed, I hugged Nata and Marcos as we congratulated each other. The energy backstage was electric. Everybody was exhausted but beaming with excitement.
Back in my dressing room, I hurried out of my costume, rushing through the mandatory steps to leave all the pieces ready for the next performance. After a quick shower, I dressed myself in a silky top and black pants. My feet complained when I slipped them into my flats.
Outside the stage entrance, an enthusiastic crowd of the dancers’ closest family and friends waited eagerly. I scanned the familiar faces until I found Sebastián. Holy shit. He looked stunning in a tuxedo, holding a gigantic bouquet of tea-colored roses.
This godly man was waiting for me.
He cut through the crowd and captured my waist with his free arm, pressing me against his chest. Ignoring my throbbing feet, I rolled to my toes to kiss him. Desire surged through me.
“You were incredible, baby.” His warm lips brushed mine. “I am in awe of you.” He took my hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. “Feel,” he whispered. His heart raced, pumping hard. Tears threatened, and I closed my eyes, pressing my face against his chest and breathing in the familiar scent of Ralph Lauren.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
From a few steps behind us, Rafa nodded a greeting and I thought I saw a hint of pride in his expression. Sebastián kissed my head and pulled away to hand me the flowers.
“For you. Exactly twenty-five.”