“If you’ve come to beg for your job back you’re shit out of luck, Moon Boy, because it ain’t gonna happen,” she states as she gestures at me with her glass.
“Actually, I came here to apologize.”
She gives me the most dubious look over the rim of her drink. “Oh really?”
I suck in a breath, letting it out slowly. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you sunk everything you had into this production.”
Nalani freezes. “Who told you?” she asks in a hard voice, lowering her glass.
“I’ll give you one guess,” I snort as I pull one of her half full glasses of liquor toward me.
“Tarou. That traitor,” she growls as she slams her drink down on the bar top. “Hey, that’s mine!”
“Were you seriously planning on finishing all of these?” I ask, eyeing the collection of glasses in front of her.
“Yes, I need them for what I’m about to do.”
“Which is?” I ask, dreading her answer.
“Why the fekk should I tell you?” she snorts. “It’s not like we’re friends.”
“Fair point,” I agree with a sigh as I slide off the bar stool. I should have known this was a lost cause before I even started. I’m about to walk away when the pieces begin to click into place. Her technical ability. Her self-discipline and expectations of her performers. A nauseous feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.
“Look, I’ll make you a deal, you answer one question and I’ll leave,” I offer, trying to sound as casual and unconcerned as possible.
She rolls her eyes at me as she downs the last of the drink in her hand. “Fine.”
“That girl who was kicked out of the Sashaivarian Regional Academy of Dance for being a Toresha Astari was you, wasn’t it?”
“Ding, ding, ding,” she replies sarcastically. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my drinks in peace before I go register as a courtesan.”
My mouth drops open. “Why in the galaxy would you do that?”
“Because I owe some not-so-nice people a fekk ton of bitz, and that’s the only thing that pays even remotely well enough for someone with my…skillset.”
I drop back down onto my former bar stool. “Just how much did you borrow?”
“Only as much as I needed, believe me,” she answers as she dumps the last of her drink down her throat.
“Which was?”
Nalani huffs at me and runs her finger down the slick exterior of her glass, scrawling a number across the surface of the bar top.
Both my eyebrows rise up. I could easily fund Nalani’s production for the next hundred Terra-years at that amount. Gods, the cost of the suite they comped me probably cost that much.
“Look, in case you didn’t know, paying wages and lodging on a luxury starliner like this for twenty professional dancers—not to mention costumes, special effects, set, lighting, and music licensing—on the meager savings of a nineteen-year-old burlesque dancer would have been impossible without borrowing the bitz, so don’t give me that look.”
“What look?”
“That look? That I’m-silently-judging-your-life-choices look.”
“I’m not judging you.” She gives me a dubious look. “Seriously, I’m not. If anything, I’m impressed you would sacrifice so much for this production.”
“I have to go big if I ever want him to notice me.”
My heart sinks a bit. “Him?”
“Sebastian Bellard,” Nalani answers. Then in a much quieter voice, “My father.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “The Sebastian Bellard is your father?”
“You know who he is?” she asks skeptically.
“Who in the fekk doesn’t? He’s like what, the most famous creative director and choreographer in the galaxy?”
“At the moment.”
“Wait, are you trying to impress him, or beat him?” The expression on her face says everything. “Wow, that’s…wow; and I thought I was ambitious.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I reach for one of her drinks, and then pause. “Wait, but I thought Sebastian Bellard didn’t have any children.”
“Yeah…he sorta doesn’t know I exist,” she admits before putting her lips to her drink, downing the last of it. “I mean, gods, the only reason I even know is because of a notarized doc where he claims me as his I found in my mom’s stuff after…”
“She died?”
“Went missing, they never found her body, so there’s still a chance she’s out there somewhere.”
My heart sinks again, but this time for a different reason. “Nalani…how old were you when your mom went missing?”
“Fifteen.”
“You’ve been own your own since you were fifteen?”
“I wasn’t on my own,” she states defensively. “I had Ryder and the others at Club 2020. They’re my ohana; have been since I was seven.” Nalani makes a face. “Uck, maybe I should switch to water.”
“Do I need to get you a bucket?”
“I’m not going to hurl, you plonker. I just can’t believe I actually told you all that.” She reaches for one of the untouched glasses of water, but then stops. “On second thought, I think I’ll pass on the water. Because I sure as fekk don’t think I’d be able to do this unblitzed,” Nalani states as she slides off the bar stool. She takes a step and pauses, letting out a heavy sigh before she looks up at me. “Look, Kealan, I didn’t actually port-dump you—well not officially anyway—so you’ll have a Terra-week or so before ship security comes looking for you. Sorry, but it’s the best I can do.”
As she starts to move past me, I grab her wrist. “I’ll do it.”
Nalani arches a brow at me. “Did you just offer to become a sex worker in my place?”
“No, I meant I’ll dance the role of The Admiral’s Son.”
She pulls her arm from my grasp. “Whoa, The Admiral’s Son is the least challenging male role in the production, but it’s far from easy. I mean, can you even dance?”
“Of course I can dance. What—” I stop myself short of telling her who I am. “I can dance.”
Nalani folds her arms under her chest, and gives me the most dubious look I’ve ever seen. “Prove it.”
“Well…” Nalani gestures for me to start with her bottle of electro-water.
“Don’t I get some music?” I ask, stripping off my forest-green sleeveless haori.
“A real dancer doesn’t need music,” she states as she reclines on the bench lining the wall of the deserted rehearsal studio.
I lean in toward her as I drop the haori on the bench beside her. “Then since I’m not a professional dancer, humor me.”
She rolls her eyes, launching her IdentiBand. And a short time later music starts to flow out of the studio sound-system.
I arch a brow at her. “This song, really?”
Nalani snorts. “I’m surprised you know it.”
“I’ll have you know back on Awai Sashai I hit the vintage clubs every week,” I brag, folding my arms across my chest.
She coughs, practically choking on her water. “Club dancing, that’s what you meant when you said you could dance?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Club dancing barely counts! For one, it doesn’t even have a standard set of steps,” she answers indignantly.
“I know other kinds.”
“Like?”
“Ballroom,” I mumble under my breath.
She lowers her water bottle. “What did you say?”
“Classic ballroom,” I repeat a little louder.
Nalani’s eyebrows shoot up. “You know classic ballroom?”
“Yep.”
“How classic? We talking NeoVictorian or like twenty-first century WDC DanceSport?”
“I don’t know, what you’d normally do at an imperial function.” She arches an eyebrow at me. Fekk! “Look I…I dated this girl…”
“Right…”
The music continues to play, and Nalani looks at me expectantly.
“You’re not dancing.”
I grin at her, trying to cover up my nervousness with a smile. “Ah, you see, I still need one more thing for that.”
“If you say shoes you’re shit out of luck, because I’m far too blitzed to go mining for some now.”
“Nope, I need you,” I say as I extend my hand toward her. “Or are you too blitzed for that too?”
She walks past me to the center of the designated stage area as if I’ve issued a challenge. “I could drink that whole speakeasy dry, and I’d still be able to dance circles around you.”
“I bet you could,” I agree as I join her out on the floor.
I start slowly, feeling out the music and her body against mine. The song is light and fun, but there’s also an intimate undertone to it that’s not immediately obvious unless you truly listen to the lyrics. And I begin to wonder if she picked it at random, or if she’s trying to say something more with its selection.
As the song hits its main stride, I decide to chance it and go for broke. You only live once.
I run through The Mermaid and The Admiral’s Son’s duet from memory, having watched Ollie and Nalani rehearse it several dozen times over the past three weeks. Modifying the tempo to match the music and my abilities. Because Ollie may have been lighter on his feet and more flexible, but he’ll never have my strength.
As we dance, Nalani begins to harmonize with my movements as if it was always meant to be like this—just me and her dancing together in this empty studio. I’m not even sure if she’s doing it intentionally or if she—like me—is just caught up in the moment, the music, and the synergy between us.
It’s a wonderfully perfect feeling, and as the song reaches its crescendo, I pull Nalani tight to my body. Lifting her up into the air as I turn slowly across the dance floor. And as the final note fades to silence, I let her slip back down against my body to the floor.
As silence claims the studio we just stand there—our bodies still pressed against each other—our breathing the only sound. I reach out, tucking a stray strand of her curly hair back behind her ear. “So do I get the role?”
Nalani just gapes at me, her eyes wide in surprise. “Where the fekk did you learn pas de deux?”
I let my hand fall to my side. “I, uh, dated a girl once…”
She looks at me skeptically. “You dated a ballerina?”
“Yeah. Well she did lots of types of dance, but ballet was one of them.”
Nalani arches a brow at me. “There’s more to this story, isn’t there?”
“Oh to be sure, but I’m not nearly blitzed enough to tell it,” I snort self-deprecatingly. “So do I get it or not?”
She looks at me appraisingly for a long moment before stating, “You’ll do.”
“So when do we start?”
“Two AM.”
I furrow my brow. “But rehearsal normally starts at four AM?”
“Normally, yes, but you need the extra practice if this show’s to launch on time.”
“So do I need to inform everyone of the new rehearsal time, or are these private rehearsals.”
“Who said I’d taken you back as my PA?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Well did you replace me in the last few Terra-hours?”
“No.”
I lean in, grinning at her. “Well then unless you have a waiting list of applicants looking for shit hours and a lot of sass, I’m all you’ve got.”
Thirteen
KEALAN
One week later…
“You know, a week ago I wouldn’t have believed it possible that you could replace Ollie, but you’re not half bad, Moon Boy,” Nalani says as we exit the lift after our final dress rehearsal before the show launches.
I arch a brow at her. “Really?”
“Are you just trying to be falsely modest or are you seriously unaware of your own skill?”
I shoot her a sideways glance as we travel along the walkway veranda en route to meet the others at the Siren’s Last Call for celebratory drinks. “I’ve only ever been told I was skilled at one thing—and it isn’t dancing.”
Nalani stops walking. “Is that so?”
“Yep.”
“Well than let me be the first too—” Someone bumps her roughly into me as they dart by, several ship security officers hot on their tail. Nalani’s so startled she doesn’t even realize I’ve wrapped my arms protectively around her.
She watches the chase as they continue down the deck before turning toward me. “What do you reckon that’s—?”
I lean down and kiss her. It’s stupid and reckless, but I just can’t help myself. And her lips feel just as wonderful as I imagined they would. Full, and impossibly soft.
I pull away slowly, my heart beating thunderously fast in my chest. Nalani stares back at me with wide-eyed bewilderment. “I’m sorry, I—” But I never get farther than that, because Nalani all but jumps into my arms.
I kiss her hungrily, like I’ve been starving my whole life just for one taste of her. And she grips my shirt, her fingers clawing into the fabric. Her lips part as I wrap my arms around her, and slide my tongue in to join hers. Setting off a supernova of sensations throughout my body. Nalani moans as the tip of my tongue runs along hers, and I deepen the kiss until we both run out of breath.
My breathing is ragged as I pull away, stopping myself before things start to get too X-rated. “If I had known I’d get that kind of response, I’d have done it sooner.”
Nalani’s chest rises and falls rapidly, her eyes alight. “If you had I’d probably have jetted you.”
I let a slow crooked smile spread across my lips. “Fair point.” Nalani’s lips slowly start to mirror mine. “So what time are we meeting everyone?”
“In about fifteen Terra-minutes. But I was thinking of bowing out.”
I furrow my brow in confusion. “You were?”
“Yeah, I was thinking we’d go some place more…private,” Nalani says suggestively as she brings her body flush up against mine.
I swallow hard. “There’s this EDM glow paint dance club called Phoenix Stardust where clothing is optional.”
She looks at me from beneath her lashes. Her right leg sliding out of the opening of her double slit maxi skirt, and brushing against mine. “More private.”
“Oh,” I reply, my eyebrows shooting up as I catch her meaning. Well that escalated quickly.
“I…might have a solution. Unless of course you were only suggesting that to get a rise out of me?”
Her eyes flick down to where her body presses against mine, and then back up. “I don’t think I need to say a word to do that, do I?”
“What are you doing?” Nalani whispers as we step off the auxiliary lift onto deck Stardust Nebula. “If they catch us up here, we’ll be in major trouble.”
“But isn’t that half the fun—the thrill of being caught?” I ask with a wicked grin.
“Seriously though, I could lose my chance with the Cosmic Cabaret if this goes nova.”
“No one will notice,” I promise as I stop in front of my ship suite.
“How do you know?”
And I almost tell her right then and there, but a part of me holds back. Because what if she doesn’t like Chancell Kealan as much as she likes Kealan Mishra?
“Ollie taught me this trick. The rooms that need servicing for the next guest are always unlocked,” I flat out fekking lie.
“Is that how he met that shipping princess?”
The door to my suite slides open. “Apparently.”
NALANI
“Holy fekk!” The suite is the size of most one bedroom apartments on Awai Sashai. An expanse of sleek polished bamboo floor spreads out before us with a wall running halfway across it to separate the entertaining room from the suite’s bedroom.
“It even has its own wet bar,” Kealan points out as he indicates the fully stocked corner bar to the left of the door. And it’s not the cheap stuff either.
“Gods, how many Unibitz do you think a suite like this would cost?” I snort as I scan the rest of the room. A four person sectional sofa lines the wall and corner on the opposite end of the room. A small rectangular coffee table with a brilliantly colored blown glass vase, and stylish plush rug completing the suite’s lounge area.
“More than a dancer can afford that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, but you think they’d have a view—?” As I say the word the wall opposite us changes until it becomes transparent, offering a floor-to-ceiling view of space. A sea of stars sliding past us. I don’t even realize I’ve crossed the room until I’m right beside the glass.
I’ve never been this close to the stars before. Never felt as if I could reach out and touch them. “They’re beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” Kealan says, his voice soft as a whisper as his left hand comes to rest on my hip.
He presses his lips to my neck right under my ear, and I suck in a sharp breath. Tris never kissed me like this. Never understood just how sensitive that area was on a daemon’s body. That it’s nearly as sensitive as…
I take Kealan’s left hand and guide it down my body, slipping it through the slit of my maxi skirt and under the waistband of my strappy dance shorts. We both suck in a sharp breath as his hand moves lower, and lower still. My heart kicking up the throttle. But he pauses just shy of reaching it as if seeking permission. And I give it to him, urging his hand downward.
He strokes me intimately, his touch mind-numbingly electrifying. And my chest starts to rise and fall more rapidly, my breath coming out in jagged huffs. I push back against his hard body, wanting him to go further. And he does, his fingers moving expertly as if knowing exactly where to place them to unleash the greatest effect.
A moan spills from my lips.
“I want you,” Kealan whispers against my ear in an uneven voice. But he doesn’t have to say it, I can feel his want pressing into my back.
As he runs his teeth across my ear lobe, his other hand slides over my body until it reaches my dance shorts. He hesitates for only a moment before he weaves his fingers through the four straps at the side. Slowly easing the strappy shorts down my hips.
Cosmic Cabaret Page 34
