Page 15 of Falling for the Bosshole

7

Ana’s promotiondidn’t come without its share of challenges. When the troupe was informed about Romina’s resignation, there was a mixed reaction. Some thought that was the end of opening night.

But everyone held their breaths wondering who would take her place.

When Jonathan Engels announced that Ana was taking over Romina’s role, there was a cry of disbelief. Ana expected that. What she didn’t expect was being treated like a pariah.

The girls talked behind her back for days, wondering what she did to deserve the spot. Malicious speculations were rife. She must have slept with the Lash, or Jonathan, probably both. Ana resented the idea of sleeping with Jonathan. She knew he was gay. As for sleeping with Lash, she didn’t even want to go there, almost afraid to admit that the thought did cross her mind.

“Most of these girls probably think about it too,” she consoled herself.

Who wouldn’t? Lash wasn’t only attractive and sexy; he exuded the confidence that came with having money and the power to do whatever he chose. She was secretly afraid of him, intimidated by his presence, often feeling awkward and clumsy when he was around. Yet, he approved of her taking over his principal dancer’s spot. That had to mean something, right?

Ana knew it was going to be an ordeal because she had a lot of catching up to do before she learned all of Romina’s dances. While the rest of the girls were home after 8 hours of intensive rehearsals, she stayed a few hours longer. The only advantage was she now lived a few blocks away from the studio. She took over the apartment that Romina left behind. Another gift from fate, which she reciprocated by being always the first to arrive and the last one to leave rehearsals.

Lash made sure that she had everything she needed to perform well. New dance clothes, shoes, and a nutritionist for her diet, a masseuse who came to her apartment regularly. Ana didn’t dare think any of these meant anything. She wasn’t that stupid. It was all to ensure that opening night was a success. Nothing more. She didn’t dare disappoint him. When Lash was told she was doing extra hours to learn all her parts, he would often stay until she finished. A couple of times, he took her out to a late dinner and brought her back to her apartment.

Ana hated to admit it, but she enjoyed that private time with him. He was good company, a great storyteller, often teasing her and making her laugh. Slowly her reserve melted as she learned how committed he was to make the Foundation a success. He asked her opinion when he was uncertain about a project that would benefit the Roma people. That flattered her immensely to know he cared about what she thought. She marveled at his extensive knowledge of the different businesses he ran. She admired his devotion to his mother’s memory. Ana felt the need to help get the endorsement Lash wanted from Horne Calloway, as legitimizing the Aurora Mancini Dance company was his dearest wish.

“I promise to do everything I can to impress Horne Calloway,” she said.

“Thanks, Ana. I know you will,” Lash reached out and tapped her knee as he stopped the car outside her apartment.

“Would you like to come up for coffee or a nightcap,” Ana asked.

She was surprised at her own daring. She didn’t even think before she spoke. She felt her cheeks go warm in the darkened interior of his car even as she waited for his reply.

“No, thanks. Maybe some other time. I need my principal dancer rested and ready for another rigorous round of rehearsals tomorrow,” Lash replied then added, “I’m having a small party for the cast and crew at my apartment this weekend. I hope you can make it.”

“Oh. Okay,” Ana replied, even as disappointment flooded her.

She stepped out onto the curb and watched the taillights of his car disappear around a corner.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” She cursed herself, regretting the bravado that made her ask. “What makes you think he will ever be interested in you other than the fact that a lot depends on your performance on opening night,” she asked her reflection on the bathroom mirror. “Besides, look at you. All he has ever seen you in are your sweats. Placed alongside his girlfriend, you do look like you just came out of a brawl,” she berated her reflection.

Ana soon realized that parties in Lash’s apartment were always something the dancers looked forward to.

“He always goes all-out. A small band, the best caterers, waiters, and a butler at the door.” One of the girls said.

There was excitement over what to wear.

“We won’t even have time to change into party clothes. Rehearsals usually end late,” Ana said.

A dancer rolled her eyes. “Oh, This will be the first time. Jonathan usually cancels afternoon rehearsals to give the girls a chance to primp up, go to a salon to have manicures, and all that stuff.”

Ana was elated. She would get a chance to make herself pretty, she thought. Then another thought struck her. Would his girlfriend, the glamorous model Lili Chong, be there too? Suddenly she wasn’t as excited anymore.

As soon asJonathan announced that Saturday rehearsals were over, the dancers all grabbed their gear and headed out the studio. Ana stood by the sidewalk, wondering how she would spend the rest of the afternoon. Still resentful of the idea that Lash’s model girlfriend was going to be present at the party tonight, she gave up hope of getting even an ounce of Lash’s attention.

“I can still go and get a haircut or something,” she muttered.

Ana knew most of the girls were headed to the same salon. But she wasn’t in the mood for more chatter about how fabulous the party tonight was going to be. She headed in the opposite direction wandering until she noticed a park where white tents billowed in the breeze. People milled about. Curious, Ana walked nearer and realized it was a flea market. She had heard about these open markets from the girls. Who had told her that they sell vintage dresses at basement bargain prices?

Ana admitted that the dress she had in mind to wear tonight was a hundred years old. It was a gift from her employer on her 21stbirthday. That was years ago.

“Won’t hurt to look around,” she thought, feeling a spark of excitement.

Ana scanned the various tents. There was vintage furniture, souvenirs from every era, antiques, and art from local designers. She joined the crowd until she spotted what she was there for.