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Page 7
“Mr. Vasiliev,” the teacher said respectfully. “What a pleasure to see you. Thank you for coming.” Phillip strode toward him, grinning. They shook hands.
“The pleasure is mine. Wonderful class.”
“Indeed. We had some great dancers today. I am keen on inviting some to audition for us in the future or to consider joining our school,” Phillip said.
“I trust your instinct, Phillip.”
“Thank you, sir. Although”—Phillip lowered his voice—“I value your opinion.”
Grisha clasped his hands behind his back and looked around. His gaze landed on Ayla. She sat on the floor, legs wide open, torso bent forward. A thin strand of hair had fallen loose from her bun and curled over her cheek. His mouth went dry.
“She’s exceptionally good,” Phillip whispered.
“But unstable. She never stays in a company for more than a year. You know we value commitment.”
Phillip nodded.
“True, but—”
“She’s also too old.” Grisha cut him off. “I think her registration file stated she was twenty-seven.”
“Very well, Grisha. I won’t speak to her, but do you want me to introduce you?” Phillip sneered.
Grisha’s eyes widened. He forced his gaping mouth shut.
“How dare you?” he said.
“Don’t get all offended, Grisha. It’s happened before, regardless of that stupid saying about not mixing business and pleasure. Besides, you know I would never judge.” Phillip winked.
Grisha shook his head. The man was hopeless. Phillip was a perpetual flirt and it wasn’t the first time he took a ballerina home for the evening. Nor would it be the last. Grisha allowed it as long as the girls he chose weren’t part of the company and his little escapades didn’t affect his work.
“So, how about a little introduction?” Phillip insisted. He clapped his hands, capturing everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentleman, today we have the pleasure of having the owner of Anika Vasiliev’s ballet company here with us, Mr. Grisha Vasiliev,” Phillip announced.
Grisha nodded in greeting. He raised his hand.
“It was a delight to watch such talented people at work. Please, continue with what you’re doing. I do not wish to interrupt.”
Applause filled the air. Grisha smiled. He scanned the crowd. Ayla. She stood a few feet from him, her hands on her hips. Their gazes locked. Her eyes wide and beckoning. Daring him. Grisha’s heart jolted. Her lips parted. Roses bloomed on her cheeks. An image of her delicate features marred by pain flashed before him. Blood rushed to his head.
Phillip smacked him on the back, laughing. The moment shattered. Ayla turned away. Grisha cursed inwardly, and then took a steadying breath and shrugged. It’d be all right. She’d be his soon enough.
End of sample chapter
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