Page 7 of Falling for the Bosshole

She heard the music cue. When Ana danced, there was always a sense of freedom as her body became her tool to communicate her feelings. Growing up in a home where her mother had secrets, her words were always guarded. It was the same in all her past relationships. She immediately sensed what men wanted from her, but she was too afraid to let go, afraid to be alone. Sex momentarily erased that uncertainty, but it always returned. Her dance movements showed her pain. She communicated that frustration as she whirled and leaped on stage. Her body gyrated to the sound of the music. She thrust her hips, arched her back, flailed her arms in a graceful display of conquer, retreat, and surrender. Sweat poured down her brows as she strained with every movement. As the music increased its crescendo, Ana dug deep into her soul. She was happy and sad, afraid but curious, terrified, but not defeated. When the music ended, she dropped to the floor in perfect rhythm, breathing hard through the nose.

Ana stood up gracefully and faced the audience. Her chin was raised in defiance as her eyes scanned the rows in search of Lash.

Jonathan Engel was on his feet, clapping. Yet Ana’s defiant look was directed only at Lash. She saw Jonathan whisper something in his ear. Lash shook his head, then stood to leave the room.

“Fuck,” Ana thought, devastated. After she bared her soul and left it all on stage, he wasn’t even impressed.

The defeat was like a rock that dropped to her gut. She fled the stage and headed for the dressing rooms, intending to change and leave. She had no desire to stay a minute longer. She knew she didn’t make it.

Ana headed for the exit door with her bag firmly strapped to her back. The auditions had resumed. However, Ana noticed that both Lash and Jonathan were not seated with the panel. She was about to leave when she heard voices from the other side of the door. She froze.

Ana recognized Lash’s voice. “…I don’t know, Jonathan. She’s too raw. Too fiery. It would be a challenge to tame that wild side in her…”

“Are you blind, man?” Ana heard Jonathan reply. “You saw what she brought out there. It wasn’t fair to surprise her with that particular request. Even the most talented dancers wouldn’t have been able to come up with an improv dance the way she did.”

“Well, you did brag that Ana Garcia was great with that kind of dancing,” Lash cut back.

“She is. You saw that. Jonathan paused, “besides, have you forgotten about our problem with your diva, Romina? We need all the talent we can get, Just in case, you know.”

“I don’t think Romina will be leaving any time soon. I made sure of that.”

“Ha! Then you don’t know her the way I do,” Jonathan lashed back. “That bitch is a problem we don’t need. Demanding for her apartment, car, and driver going to and from rehearsals, her personal dressing room like the other dancers are all beneath her?”

“But if she finds out we are auditioning understudies for her parts, all hell will break loose. You know that.”

“Romina doesn’t know about today’s audition. She is being pampered at the spa, thanks to me. It was my idea to keep her away. Jonathan remarked wickedly.

Lash mumbled an expletive before he replied, “Alright, Jonathan. I’ll concede to you this time. Put this-this Ana Garcia as one of the back-up dancers. I don’t care. I still don’t think she’s good enough.”

Ana backed up slowly before the two men could discover she had been eavesdropping. She made a quick turnaround and headed back to the dressing room. She was glad they had decided to accept her even if it was just as a back-up dancer. It was still a good start, she thought. Nonetheless, there was a small part of her that was upset. Lash Mancini didn’t think she was good enough.

“I’ll show you exactly how wrong you are about me, you moron,” Ana vowed.

The auditions took longerthan Ana had expected. Even though she knew that she had gotten a slot, she still sat it out with the rest of the group waiting for the announcement. When her name was called, Ana feigned excitement. Her heart went out to those who didn’t cut it.

Jonathan Engels deliberately sought her out and congratulated her. He pulled her away out of earshot and said, “Congrats Ana. I’m so happy you came. I knew you’d make it. But we need to talk tomorrow. There are some details we need to discuss your part. Same time, same place, okay?”

Ana agreed before proceeding out the door with the rest of the girls. It felt good to be out in the open; Ana was exhausted. She had used up her entire adrenaline supply. The whole day was such a rollercoaster ride that all she wanted was to crawl into bed.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. “Jesus, I have no place to go.”

In the rush of packing and catching her flight, she hardly had time to call a hotel to make a room reservation.

“New York must have hundreds of hotels. I’m sure I can get one,” she convinced herself.

Lugging the backpack that now weighed like a ton on her sore shoulders, Ana walked a few blocks. She spotted a small nondescript hotel and walked in. The clerk shook his head even before she could ask for a room.

“Sorry, Miss, but we’re packed to the rafters,” he said.

She had no better luck on the second and third one she entered. The bellboy sitting by the curb told her why. “There’s a national convention for medical representatives worldwide. I doubt you’ll find any room available at this late hour.”

Ana felt her spirit drop. She didn’t even know exactly where she was at the moment. She was lost and alone, with nowhere to go in a strange city. Worse, she heard thunderclaps overhead.

“Swell,” she muttered dejectedly walking down the sidewalk.

To test her mettle further, fate decided to make it drizzle. Raindrops landed on her head, dripped down her hair, and fell onto her shoulders. Her clothes showed patches of moisture as she stood there helplessly. Ana wanted to cry.

Suddenly, a car came to a halt along the sidewalk, where she stood looking like a soiled rag. The window on the driver side rolled down, and Ana locked eyes with Lash Mancini.