Page 23

FOUR

“And that’s a wrap, everyone. Good job. Go home. Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time. Expect to be here for three to six hours. If you get it right the first few times, I won’t hold you as long. Rome– phenomenal.”

My chest heaved as my feet lowered to the ground. They’d grown numb from continuous movement. I could hardly feel my toes. Soaking them when I got home wasn’t an option. It was the priority.

I nodded, recognizing the acknowledgment.

Cecilia had worked us to the bone. I wasn’t complaining.

It felt incredible to be back on stage. The hours we were pulling were makeup for all the days I’d been laying on the beach deepening the melanin in my skin, sipping from organic coconuts, eating diced pineapples, and enjoying quiet time by the water in St. Catana.

The work felt good. Necessary. Challenging.

“Everyone else, tighten up. You’re doing good, but I need you to be great.

This young lady has only been with us for two weeks and has nailed every goddamn piece of this choreography.

She’s working like she is still trying to convince us she deserves this spot and that was never the case.

See Rome. Learn from Rome. And, we’ll all be good on opening night. Goodnight everyone.”

I stepped down from the stage, swiftly walking toward my dressing room.

Upon entry, I wasted very little time locating my water bottle.

My brows furrowed upon realizing it wasn’t in its dedicated spot.

I twisted my body, searching for the big brown chunk of metal with HUFFINGTON running along the side.

I relaxed as it crossed my line of vision.

“There.”

Near the door, it sat on the shelf. I recalled taking a final sip during break. I rushed back toward the door and grabbed the bottle. The second it was uncapped, I poured water down my throat. Immediately, I began to feel better. The faintness vanished.

Knock.

Knock .

Fists collided with my door, beckoning for my attention. I lowered the water bottle and placed it back on the shelf.

Knock.

Knock .

Koen and August were insufferable. Their presence was soothing and suffocating at once.

“Yes?” I pulled the door open.

“Hey, girl. Still down for dinner? I could use something savory. My stomach is touching my back. Cecilia was trying to kill us today. I’m convinced.”

Aliza’s big brown eyes were wide with joy. How she’d gotten out of her leotard and into her clothes so swiftly was baffling. However, her makeup was still intact as usual. Not even six hours on Cecilia’s clock had smeared the perfection painted on her skin.

Denial was at the tip of my tongue. I’d been taught to be clear and leave no confusion. Sitting down for dinner with Aliza could only go one way and that wasn’t in her favor. Still, the desire to clear the air rested on my heart.

“So, dinner? Drinks? A little girl chat?” She chuckled.

It had been nine days since Saint stepped into my house and assured me he deserved the parts of my heart reserved for him. Laying down every night with him on my mind was becoming the most dreadful part of my day.

It had been fourteen days since Aliza had made it clear that she was interested in a friendship with me.

I’d avoided her as much as I could after learning the man I had seen countless times in my dreams was the man she was set to marry.

But, she had a way about her. Once she set her mind to something, there was no changing it.

“Yes,” I agreed. “I suppose I could spare a half hour.”

I was purposely setting a boundary, making sure Aliza understood there was a cap on our time together.

“A half hour? Boring!”

An explanation was not in my plans. I stared back at Aliza, waiting for her to accept the terms or continue with her night.

“Okay. I guess we could both use the rest and a good soak. My feet are killing me.”

“Share the location. Secure the table. And, I’ll be there.”

“You want to ride together?”

As the question left her red lips, Koen and August appeared.

“No.”

I tipped my head toward my crew.

“I doubt these two will allow me out of their presence.”

Nodding, she agreed, “Yup. Yup. Got it. Andretti’s. Right off the highway. I’m heading there now to get us a table and order our first round of drinks.”

She took off down the hallway.

“Aliza,” I called after her.

“Yes?”

“I don’t drink while preparing for a performance.”

My words stopped her in her tracks. She turned on her heels, tilted her head, and peered down the hallway at me.

“Oh, honey. Teach me your ways.”

“See you in a bit.”

When she disappeared, August stepped closer.

“Where are we headed, Balle?”

Koen remained quiet as he watched the hallway Aliza had just vanished down. He was studying. Analyzing. Doing Koen .

“To Andretti’s for a half hour. Leave the car running. I won’t be long.”

I closed my dressing room door and grabbed my water bottle. I chugged until it was empty and considered refilling it. Parched was an understatement. Fairly quickly, I decided to have water at the restaurant instead.

My Saint Laurent mules powered through the restaurant as my silk skirt swayed with each movement of mine. August matched my stride effortlessly. His legs were long and his steps were calculated. He knew where my feet would land before they landed.

“Aliza,” I said, nodding as I swiped my skirt underneath me so that it wouldn’t slide down when my butt touched the chair.

“You made it!” She cheered, bouncing in her seat.

“I did.” I chuckled, slightly moved by her cheerfulness.

Her spirit was bubbly. Her eyes were bright. Her body language was inviting.

“And so did you, handsome.”

She pushed her breasts into the air. Her eyes coated with lust. August sniggered, brushing his thumb across his nose.

“You ladies have fun. Thirty, Balle.”

“Thirty,” I repeated, letting him know that I wouldn’t need a second longer.

“How do you do it?” She whined as August left the table.

“Be around them all day without– testing it at least?”

“I’m not interested in testing anything or anyone, Aliza, not when I know exactly what I am searching for in a man.

Why waste my time knowing it won’t be anything more than a disappointment or heartbreak?

” I questioned. “Not because either of them aren’t worthy of someone and something special, but because I know exactly what I want and neither of them are it. ”

Neither of them are him.

“And just like that, you summed up my situation,” she breathed out, taking a sip of her drink.

The water in front of me looked enticing, but I refrained from reaching for it.

“How so?” I asked, interested in what she meant.

“You’ve met my fiancé, Sac.”

I have… long before you introduced us .

“I have.”

“Well–” she paused, getting comfortable, “We’ve been engaged for three years.

And, I can’t help but feel like we walked into this blindly, unsure of what we were getting ourselves into.

He was safe. He’s always been safe for me.

He’s been my best friend since we were children.

Our mothers have been best friends since they were children.

“We didn’t bump into each other. We fell into each other, naturally, by default . Almost feels arranged. And, silently, I think we’ve both been waiting for the sparks. The unforgettable moments. The stars. The fireworks. And, they just aren’t there.”

She took another sip of her drink.

“Saint is so sure of himself. What he wants. His life’s plan.

Everything. And, then, there’s me. I’m just trying to become the best ballerina Clarke has seen.

Ya know? Our values don’t align and somehow I feel like it’s affecting our progress.

Don’t get me wrong, I love him. I love him deeply.

But not enough to follow his life’s plan and neglect mine.

“He’s traditional. He wants to bring in the money. Pay the bills. Take care of his woman. Marry her. Fill her with babies, little athletes. A small army of his little soldiers.

“Then, retire when they’re old enough to decide what sport they’ll be getting full scholarships to college for. Then, spend his life making sure they repeat the steps he’s taken. It was the same with his father.

“I don’t see that for myself. I can’t sit down long enough to plan a wedding. Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought in the last two years. We’ve both been advancing in our careers.”

Repulsed by her explanation, I tried concealing my truest feelings.

“The last two weeks have been tough. I feel like I’m fucking up every time I turn around.

He doesn’t ask for much. Everything is simple, just like Saint.

He’s such a deserving guy, but it’s so hard fulfilling my role sometimes.

Work is hard enough. I’m trying to secure a role on stage.

Not in his life. And, that’s ripping us a part, I fear.

“It’s been over a week since he’s touched me. The last time we tried was a little over a week ago and he struggled to keep it– you know–”

“I don’t,” I admitted.

“Up–” she rushed out, sipping from her drink. Her face turned a shade of crimson.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I just feel like I’m failing him. He’s failing me. We’re failing each other. And, we love each other too much to part ways.

“He’s been my best friend all my life. Breaking his heart is not an option for me. I love him. Beyond this relationship. Beyond this ring,” she mentioned, bringing my attention to the rock that was weighing her finger down.

Saint had done well.

“He's had so much on his mind lately. I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking about all the things I’m not doing in our relationship.

Ugh . He’s almost too perfect for me. You know?

He is so disciplined. So loyal. I can’t even stop myself from staring at the damn bodyguard. Being a girl is hard,” she complained.

Being with a man that doesn’t belong to you is hard, Aliza. Let’s not blame that on womanhood.