Page 7 of The Devil and His Goddess (Sinners Do It Better #2)

Harper

KATERINA CAME OUT OF THE director’s office, a grin on her beautiful face. Elijah and I practically bounced on our feet as she made it to us.

“Well?” I demanded in excited anticipation.

“What role did you get?” Elijah asked just as enthusiastically. “Did he say which ballet you’ll do?”

She rubbed her glossy lips together like she was trying to seal the words inside her before they finally burst out in a rush, “I’m a soloist! I’m getting a role in Dancing in the Dark !”

Elijah and I quickly tugged her into our arms in an elated group hug. Like Katerina, Elijah had just learned he’d gotten principal danseur and the lead male role in Dancing in the Dark . Both were over the moon to be ranked so highly, and I couldn’t be happier for the two of them. They were brilliant and beyond deserving of the roles they’d received.

“This is amazing!” Elijah said. His glee suddenly dampened as he frowned at me. “I just hate that we’re not going to be in the same show. We all know you’re getting Odette and Odile in Swan Lake .”

“Being in different shows will be worth it to see you as the swan again,” Katerina said as she squeezed my hand and beamed at me with pride. “You’re the best Odette I’ve ever seen. I’m excited for you to get the role again this year. Speaking of … it’s your turn! Try to act surprised when you get the lead in Swan Lake .”

“Thanks, guys,” I gushed as I pulled them in for hugs again.

I did hate the idea of not being able to dance alongside them, though I knew there would be other shows we would do together in the future. Swan Lake and Dancing in the Dark were just the first of what would be an amazing year of shows, and while they worked on theirs, I’d be giving the beautiful swan my all, as I’d done every year since becoming a part of Silverlight.

Fresh nerves coiled tightly in my stomach as I headed toward Perseus’s office. I wasn’t so much anxious about being given my role as I was about being in a small room, all alone with Perseus. Though, it wasn’t him I was afraid of. I was afraid of myself .

Even after an entire week of seeing him during daily classes and rehearsals for this very moment, my attraction to him hadn’t dwindled. If anything, it had grown as I watched the way he carried himself, observed him as he treated every dancer with patience and a smile, or felt his eyes on me while I worked. Never had a gaze scorched my very skin with desire like his had.

Except for one.

I still wasn’t sure if the masked man was real or a momentary lapse in my sense of reality. He hadn’t appeared since Monday night, and honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was happy about that or disappointed.

The fact that I even could be disappointed should’ve been a red flag about my mental state, yet here I was.

The mystery texts and voicemails I’d gotten this past week made no mention of being with me in that strange visit, which was more evidence to suggest that the two people weren’t the same. Not that the masked man was a person at all.

Shaking the thoughts away, I focused on the other man plaguing me.

When I walked into Perseus’s office, his attention was fixed on some papers in his ringed fingers. A crisp white button-up hugged his torso, and I had to force my gaze elsewhere since the sight of the material stretched over his muscles caused a burn at my center that shouldn’t be felt for one’s superior. His golden curls were pulled back in a bun at the nape of his neck, but a few strands fell into his green eyes.

He looked up at the sound of the door shutting, and a smile claimed his mouth the minute his gaze locked on mine.

“Good morning, sir,” I greeted and took the chair across from him.

“‘Sir,’” he repeated with a chuckle. He leaned back in his chair and ran a finger under his mouth as he appraised me. “That makes me feel like some old, stiff executive.”

“What would you prefer I call you, then?”

That little smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “‘Peasant’ works.”

Heat climbed my neck, but I ignored it with a flip of my hair over my shoulder. “I’ll stick with ‘sir.’”

“Even if I said I liked it?”

Especially then.

I stayed silent, to which he shrugged. He leaned forward to rest his clasped hands on the top of his desk. “Well, Goddess—”

“Harper,” I corrected with a slight narrowing of my eyes.

“That’s what I said,” he lied while managing to keep a straight face. His eyes went back to the paper as he continued, “I guess we can talk about your assignment since you don’t want to talk about our pet names.”

“We don’t have pet names,” I practically hissed through clenched teeth.

He ignored me and shuffled the papers to straighten them. “As I’ve told everyone who has met with me so far, I’ll only give out roles face-to-face like this today. Going forward, it will be posted in the main hall. I just wanted a one-on-one with everyone to make sure they got to really meet me and feel comfortable with their new boss.” He grinned and unnecessarily added, “Though, you and I already had something like that.”

“Which I’m trying to forget,” I said with a tight smile before I could stop myself.

I hadn’t even been here for three minutes, yet the man was already getting under my skin. It wasn’t enough that he put me on edge with his hungry eyes during class, reminding me of the flame I’d snuffed out—or rather, tried to snuff out. He wanted to consistently throw it in my face the minute we were alone, too.

He nodded understandingly, which grated on my nerves when he followed it with, “I get it. I’d probably want to forget the night I acted cowardly, too.”

My back went ramrod straight as I gawked at him. “Cowardly? I was not a coward .”

He raised a single brow. “What do you call it then?”

“I call it disinterest . I told you. You aren’t my type.”

He smiled, and with that little grin, I realized he was purposely baiting me and riling me up. He wanted these reactions from me, which in turn, made me want to deny him all of them.

“Can we please talk about the ballet?” I asked with a deep sigh.

“Of course.” The teasing glimmer faded ever so slightly from his mouth as he held my gaze in the small space between us. “Rupert, the dance masters, the répétiteurs, and myself have all been extremely pleased with your technique and performance this week. Your character has also been appreciated as you’ve helped the newer dancers with things they struggled with or just offered a pleasant energy with everyone in the company. It’s truly been amazing to watch you and see the kind of ballerina Silverlight is lucky enough to have in its midst.”

All of the frustration immediately seeped out of me like a rag being wrung dry, and it was replaced with a swell of pride. To have my abilities and efforts noticed and praised was a huge boost for me. I knew I was a great dancer. I worked my ass off my entire life to get to the level I was at, sometimes to the detriment of my own welfare, but I didn’t care. This was what I lived for.

I’d been with Silverlight for three years now. Last year was my first year as a full-time dancer since I’d been a college student and part-time ballerina the two years prior while I got my associates degree. My first year here had been used to gauge my abilities and how well I could manage college and the career.

When the previous artistic director realized I was willing to do whatever it took to make dance work, she’d upgraded me to principal dancer and lead, which I’d managed to maintain ever since then. The past two years, I’d been lucky enough to be a principal dancer, and I was given every lead role that ballerinas dreamt about—Giselle, the Sugar Plum Fairy, and the swan.

With all the new dancers Perseus had hired in, our numbers of ballerinas and danseurs had more than doubled, so while I was still confident in myself, I wondered where my new place would be among the talent here. Hearing all the praise Perseus had for me and my skill had the ball of nerves growing in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to continue being the ballerina my director could rely on for those pivotal roles.

“With all that being said,” Perseus continued with a growing smile, “I am truly delighted to say you are a principal dancer—”

Yes ! I practically sang on the inside as I fought back the urge to leap to my feet.

“—and you’ll be taking the lead role—”

I’m still her! I’m still the swan!

“—of Psyche, the female protagonist in Dancing in the Dark .”

The air inside me swept away in an instant, drawing my limbs up tight and freezing me in my seat. I stared at Perseus as my head rang with a piercing chime as shock poured through me in a bitter slice.

“N-Not Swan Lake ?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t sound as hollow to him as it did to my own ears.

I didn’t mean to actually ask the question out loud. The words slipped past as I went into this almost delirious, confused state.

I’d worked endlessly. Every moment I had was devoted to this job, to roles like the White and Black Swan.

Had I fallen short?

Was I no longer good enough to be her?

“No,” Perseus answered, oblivious to my spiraling thoughts. “The lead of Swan Lake went to Mandi Williamson.”

If I thought hearing I wasn’t Odette was a blow to the gut, this was an even colder, sharper knife sinking into me and twisting . Mandi, of all people, got the lead in Swan Lake ? The innocent, beautiful, and angelic Odette would be her? Odile would be right up Mandi’s alley, but to be Odette, the timid White Swan?

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, my heart aching.

His brow furrowed at my question, and as the seconds ticked by, all of the teasing light and good-humor slowly seeped out of him until he stared blankly at me. His jaw worked before he said flatly, “You think Dancing in the Dark isn’t good enough for you.”

“ What ?” My eyes widened, and all the hurt I felt exploded in a flurry of panic. I leaned forward and waved my hands adamantly. “No! That’s not what I—”

“Meant?” Perseus finished, and when he smiled at me now, there was a tightness to it.

Seeing it made me want to rewind time to when he teased me relentlessly. I wanted to go back to when we were Goddess and Peasant, not boss and subordinate, because this … this look was frigid disappointment.

“Regardless of what you meant ,” Perseus continued, his deep voice reprimanding, “your feelings about the role you were given are clear. We’ll need to discuss this further, but, unfortunately, I need to meet the remaining dancers. I’ll speak to you after. Practice room four. Please send Rosá González in on your way out.”

My heart raced. How did I keep sticking my foot in my mouth around this guy? It was like I couldn’t say anything right, and now I’d really messed up.

I opened my mouth to argue that I was grateful when his eyes hardened, and he snapped, “Send in the next dancer, Harper.”

Shame weighed my tongue down. The words to make my case never came, not when faced with such venom from a previously jovial person. Ice pricked at my insides as I almost robotically stood and left the room.

I didn’t remember sending Rosá in after me, though I recalled avoiding Elijah and Katerina. I wasn’t sure how to face them with the turn of events. Did I still have a job? Did I tell them the role I’d been given when I wasn’t sure if I still had that position after the shit I’d said?

The moments after the meeting were a blur, and I didn’t come back to myself until I slid down the wall to the cold floor in practice room four. I stared at my reflection in the mirrors across the room, absolutely shell-shocked over what I’d done.

This was it for me. I knew it was. I’d just made myself look like the most ungrateful and entitled ballerina in the whole company.

Was I shocked when Perseus said Dancing in the Dark ? Yes!

That was where my reaction stemmed from. I had believed, without a doubt, that I’d be cast in Swan Lake again. Everyone thought so. It was just an assumption on my part because of how successful it had been the two years prior with me as the lead. I hadn’t even registered that I’d gotten a lead in a new production, because I was so hung up on what not getting Odette and Odile meant—I wasn’t good enough to be her anymore.

The endless months of discipline and training were for naught, because I wasn’t the incredible dancer I had been last year.

Now that the initial shock was gone, I was able to focus on the role I was given, and I was so damn thankful for that. The lead in a new production was exciting, but instead of giving Perseus that enthusiasm, I’d shit all over his decision.

Now I’d have to pay the price.

I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my head back against the wall, silently screaming at myself to not cry. Not here. I’d save that for after he fired me and sent me home.

The door opened, and I sucked in a sharp breath as I prepared to face my death at Silverlight. When I opened my eyes and leapt to my feet, though, the nerves inside me settled.

“Oh,” I said, releasing the breath I’d taken. I offered a small smile to the young janitor. “It’s just you.”

Drake smiled shyly and waved a gloved hand as he pushed his trash can into the room. “Sorry for startling you, Harper. I was just grabbing the trash.”

His curly brown hair brushed against the tops of his freckled ears and forehead as he ducked his head slightly. The man in work pants and a t-shirt was in his thirties and had been a janitor at Silverlight almost as long as I had been a ballerina here. He worked in the shadows most of the time, though we ran into each other from time to time. Some of the other dancers were rude to him because he was “just a garbage man,” so every time I saw him, I tried to make him feel appreciated and welcomed.

I shook my head and went over to grab the bag of trash from the little can in the corner of the room. He beamed his crooked smile at me as I placed it in his larger container. “No worries, Drake. I hope I’m not in your way.”

His brown eyes widened, and he waved the idea away. “Not at all. This is your place. If anything, a lowly guy like me is intruding on you.”

“Don’t say that,” I said with a sad frown, knowing some of the other dancers’ words must’ve gotten to him. “You’re what makes this place run smoothly for the rest of us. I, for one, really appreciate you and how hard you work everyday.”

His freckled cheeks pinkened, and he scuffed his worn shoe on the floor. “You’re always so nice to me.” When his eyes met mine again, he said, “Mr. Mavros gave me the assignments to post on the wall in the main hall. I saw you got principal dancer again. Congratulations!”

I returned his smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s annoying that you didn’t get Swan Lake this year. You’re the prettiest Odette I’ve ever seen. No one does the swan as well as you.”

I swallowed down the hurt that tried rising up and shrugged. “I’ll just get to be a different beautiful character this time.”

If Perseus doesn’t fire me first.