“I am the alternate.”
Remi held her breath, not daring to turn her head and look to see where Lilah and Angelo were going. She was certain her heart was beating loud enough for them to hear her, but after a few minutes without confrontation, she peeled herself away from the wall.
What the hell? How did Lilah know what was going on? And if Wes hadn’t even shown up to the theater yet this morning, that meant he must have known something was going on last night when he’d come over.
For a moment, she couldn’t move. Memories swirled thick like fog in her head. She’d been here before. Had this same swelling nausea, this same rush of blood in her ears that made it feel like someone was holding her head underwater.
No, no, no, no.
She pressed a hand to her forehead. Wes was supposed to be different. She’d resisted him as hard as she could, but he’d worked on her. Bending her with his sweet words and kind gestures, with his care and humor and sexy, crooked smile.
“Oh God,” she whispered, taking a huge breath and trying not to let the smoothie she’d had for breakfast come rushing back up.
What was she supposed to do now? Who else had Lilah told? The thought of facing the cast, knowing that her affair with Wes was public knowledge and that she might be on the chopping block for it was too much. She needed to think, and she couldn’t do that here.
Remi pushed open the door to the theater and darted out onto the street. The noise of the city overwhelmed her, horns blaring and voices yelling and engines rumbling. It was too much. Too loud and too bright. She walked down the street, her feet breaking into a jog as the need to escape built up like pressure in her veins.
Get out, get out, get out.
She’d done it again.
Just as she rounded the corner, ready to escape down into the subway, she caught site of a familiar face. Of all the bloody luck.
“Remi?” Wes’s brow wrinkled as he took her in, his gaze sweeping from her trembling hands to the tears welling in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“You were going to fire me?” She should have walked on, but the words shot out of her faster than she could contemplate the consequences. “And you told the cast before you told me? What the hell?”
His face paled in a way that made Remi’s heart sink. It was the pallor of guilt. “Who said that?”
“Lilah. And apparently she knows we’re ‘doing more than rehearsing,’ according to what she told Angelo.” She wanted to scream at him as much as she wanted to throw herself into his arms. “God, you must think I’m stupid. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
Alex’s betrayal had come to her attention in a similar way—he hadn’t told her, the chickenshit. She’d found out from another dancer.
He’s not leaving the company, Remi. They said he could have another chance if he cut ties with you.
She blinked, trying to stem the resurgence of tears at the memory of how she’d held a hand over her belly, wondering how the father of her child could walk away without even telling her. She’d been a fool then, and she was a fool now.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he raked a hand through his hair. “It’s not like that. I’m not firing you.”
“Really? But you’re not denying that you told Lilah we were sleeping together. That was supposed to be between us. We agreed.” Remi was suddenly aware that she was yelling at him, the tumultuous feelings roiling inside her had taken control of her voice box. “Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t tell her. She found out…she overheard us in the dressing room.” He took a step closer, but Remi immediately backed up. She couldn’t let Wes into her space right now, not when everything was on the line. “Remi… Christ. She’s trying to blackmail me.”
Remi shook her head. “What?”
“She came to me and threatened to go to the media with a story about how I had a casting couch for my dancers.” His lip curled in disgust. “She said the only thing I could do to keep her quiet was to fire you and let her take the lead role.”
Her instinct had told her from the start that Lilah was trouble. She’d seen dancers like that before—so desperate to get ahead they would step on and over whoever they saw as competition.
“When did this happen?” Her lower lip trembled. She knew the answer and what it meant—Wes had come to her place last night with this knowledge, and he’d chosen to take her to bed instead of telling her the truth.
“Yesterday.” His lips pressed into a flat line, guilt flashing in his blue eyes.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Before you came to see me?”
“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate. “I wanted to tell you.”
“But what? You were so overcome with passion that you simply forgot?” Sarcasm poisoned her words. “Bullshit.”
“No, I didn’t forget.”
“Then what? You were more interested in getting off than in treating me like a human being?” She shook her head. After he’d been so sweet, after he’d led her to think they had something special—even if only the very first inkling of something—he’d gone and ruined it all by not opening up to her. That was the worst part of all—not that people knew about them, not that there was speculation about her being fired. But that he’d had the opportunity to tell her the truth and chosen not to. Like Alex. Like Annie. “Tell Lilah I hope she’s happy. Everyone is going to judge me now no matter what I do.”
She stormed past him, but his hand caught her wrist.
“Remi, wait.”
She met his eyes, refusing to look away even though she wanted to sink through the floor.
“You promised me that sex wouldn’t get in the way. But if you could take me to bed last night knowing what you knew, without saying a word…then it has gotten in the way,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have thought about how to deal with Lilah together, like a team.”
Sure, she would have freaked. But him coming clean and wanting to work through it together would have at least shown he had her interests at heart. His actions, however, revealed a lot.
“I’m sorry. I know I should have told you. I was…” The crisp fall wind ruffled his dark hair, blowing the thick strands around his forehead. “I didn’t want to ruin this.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t throw your mother’s business card out, because it looks like I might need the contact.” She yanked her wrist free and headed down into the subway, slipping her headphones over her ears so that if he tried to call to her, she wouldn’t be tempted to turn around.
* * *
Bad Bachelor review: Wesley Evans
What can I say about the time I dated the great Wes Evans? Not much. It was like cotton candy—sweet, fun, and lacking in substance. But I get the impression that’s all he’s interested in. Why would someone like him need to go through the work of a proper relationship?
Here’s the thing you need to know about Wes Evans: he’s got a short attention span and plenty of options.
Take for instance his show, Out of Bounds. He’s using the recognition of his family name and the notoriety of his sex life to garner publicity for it. He knows he can lean on those two things without going through the hard work like everyone else. Oh, and how do you think his lead ballerina got her role given she hasn’t worked professionally in over four years? I’ll give you one guess. ;) —HeyThereDeLilah
Remi woke on Thursday with the certainty that things couldn’t possibly get any worse. But oh…they had.
Overnight, she’d had her phone turned off because Wes kept calling and texting. A touch of guilt lingered over how she’d thrown the comment about his mother back in his face. Okay…more than a touch. It was a nasty thing to say. But dammit, she was hurting. Lashing out certainly wasn’t the most adult way to deal with things, but it was all she had at her disposal right now. The walls were back up because her heart neede
d time to recover. To fortify.
When she woke up and switched her phone back on, she saw the missed texts from Angelo asking, “What the hell is going on?” She’d also had messages from Sadie, a few other cast members, and one from Darcy asking if they could catch up soon because she wanted to make sure everything was okay.
But then another text came through from Wes.
WES: Don’t worry about the Bad Bachelors thing. It doesn’t mean anything.
Her heart sank as she reached down to the floor and pulled her laptop up onto the bed. She’d deleted the Bad Bachelors app off her phone after the night she’d told Wes she’d looked him up, and she hadn’t been on the desktop version either. The more she learned about Bad Bachelors, the less she wanted anything to do with it…especially after knowing who was behind it. She cracked one eye as she typed his name into the search bar.
The most recent review made her stomach vault. But that sick feeling turned to fury when she read the reviewer’s username. HeyThereDeLilah.
It could easily be mistaken for a reference to the catchy song, but the capital L told her all she needed to know.
Remi rolled her eyes, trying to mask the desire to cry out with something stronger. Angrier. Of course, it was one more thing Wes hadn’t told her. Or else it was another of Lilah’s lies. How could she tell the difference? Neither of them told the truth.
She shoved the laptop away and brought her fingertips to her temples. Out of Bounds was supposed to be going live in two weeks. They’d cut it right down to the wire in terms of funding, but Wes had pulled it off. Most people would have bailed earlier, but he’d put his own money on the line. Used what he had to secure the theater and ensure things kept moving. He’d risked his own finances for the show. Logically, she knew that meant him hiring her was nothing like what Lilah had implied.
But would other people see that? Remi wasn’t sure she could face the possibility of people looking at her the way they had when her affair with Alex had hit gossip circles. People always questioned the woman—was she opening her legs to get ahead? Was she trying to sleep her way to a better position?
She’d been seen as manipulative, as relying on her sexual prowess, which could only mean she didn’t have the talent to back it up. If she had any hope of stepping onstage opening night, two things would need to happen: one, damage control with the cast and the media and two, she would need to officially end things with Wes. No more sexy, late-night visits. No more sneaking off after rehearsals. They were done.
Could they keep people focused on what mattered? Remi had no idea.
She reached for her phone and scrolled through the messages she’d missed overnight. One from Annie stood out.
ANNIE: Hey, I’m taking tomorrow off. Think you can sneak away for a coffee?
Remi glanced at the clock beside her bed. It was 9:00 a.m. The cast would already be powering through their warm-up class with Sadie. But Remi wasn’t setting foot into that theater until she had her plan sorted. No way was she getting blindsided again.
REMI: Sure. Meet at Bluestone Lane? Financial Dist.
ANNIE: Give me 30 min. I’ll see you there.
Remi took her time getting ready, and when she left her building, the sun shone down so brightly that she had to shed her denim jacket. The weather was in that strange up-and-down portion of the season, when the city couldn’t quite decide if it was cold or hot. She slung the jacket over her arm and headed toward Flatbush Avenue in the direction of the Seventh Avenue subway station, her headphones over her ears. Blowing off rehearsals for a second day in a row was an offense that would incur serious reprimanding. So much could change in the course of forty-eight hours. Steps could be tweaked, technique could be developed, something might click and everything would suddenly work. Two days could mean her castmates surging ahead of her after she’d worked so hard to catch up in the first place.
Doesn’t matter. You don’t go back without a plan.
Her phone buzzed.
WES: Are you coming in today?
She shoved the phone back into her bag and headed down into the subway. It would take at least one more day for her feelings to simmer down to a level where she could talk to him without either wanting to burst into tears, or toss a drink in his face. The worst thing was, however, it wasn’t anger. She was mourning him. Though they hadn’t defined the boundaries of their relationship, she knew they had something special. Like when she executed a perfect triple pirouette, she got that tingly, magical feeling when she was with him. The feeling that told her right from the start to be careful.
But she hadn’t listened. She’d been lured in by the possibility of them, what they could be, when she should have been focusing on her golden opportunity.
Remi got off at Wall Street and headed to Bluestone Lane. This one was her favorite of the Bluestone cafés because of the brightly tiled counter and friendly staff.
“Good morning. What can I get you?” The familiar Aussie accent washed over her, making her feel a little less alone.
“I’ll have the flat white and an avo smash. Some feta too.” She dug into her wallet and pulled out a few wrinkled bills. Four years in this damn country and she still had to check every bill she handed out because they all looked so similar, unlike the colorful money from back home.
“Good choice.” The woman rang up her order, and Remi handed the money over. “Did you stay up to watch the grand final last night?”
“Grand final?”
The woman laughed. “How many years have you been here now? You’ve forgotten all about our national treasure.”
Remi laughed. “Ah, the footy. No, I wasn’t keen to stay up that late to watch it. Did you?”
“Sure did. The Dockers were playing.” She clamped a hand over her heart.
“And they lost.” The barista looked over the espresso machine with an evil grin. “Carn the blues!”
“Well, I’m going to be a terrible Australian and admit that I’m not a big footy fan.” She pretended to duck. “Don’t throw anything at me.”
The woman chuckled, shooting her a mock-angry look. “I bet you hate Vegemite too. Traitor.”
Remi laughed and found a seat by the window to wait for Annie. There was something comforting about listening to the two people behind the counter discuss at length the virtues of Vegemite. For the first time since she’d moved, Remi wondered if maybe the time had come for her to go back home.
Maybe you should go home. Pack it all in and commit to a life of eating kale and hemp seeds. Foster some animals and forget about human interaction altogether.
Remi reached into the pocket of her jogger pants, her fingers feeling for the smooth edges of the citrine crystal her mother had sent her. She drew the stone into her palm and closed her hand around it, wondering what she was supposed to feel. Where was the voodoo her mother believed in? The stone was surprisingly cool, given where she had it stashed, and it felt heavier than it looked for its size.
Carry them around, and even if you don’t believe they’ll do anything, let them remind you that I am thinking of you always.
Remi swallowed, finding a lump in the back of her throat. Her parents might not have understood her dreams, they might not have wanted the life for her that she wanted for herself, but they loved her. That was never in doubt.
Opal had been devastated when Remi moved away, but she’d never stopped Remi from doing anything. She wouldn’t come for a show or even a tourist visit. But if Remi said, “Mum, I really need you,” she knew Opal would hop on the first plane out.
Remi squeezed the stone and dropped it back into her pocket as Annie pushed open the door to the café. She stopped by the front counter to place her order and then took a seat next to Remi.
“Hey, I’m glad you were able to get out of rehearsals for a bit,” Annie said. “How’s it all going?”
To Remi’s complete e
mbarrassment, her eyes welled up. She blinked the tears away, refusing to break down in public, and told Annie everything that’d happened and showed her the review.
“Wow.” Annie blinked when Remi finally took a pause. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Remi sipped her coffee, which had turned lukewarm. She picked at the avocado on toast, her appetite waning. “Neither do I.”
“Why would this woman do something so horrible?”
“Being a professional dancer isn’t like other careers. You can follow the rules, put in the hours, give it everything that you have, and still end up going nowhere.” She sucked in a breath. “Desperation to succeed makes people do some strange things. I don’t think this is a personal attack because she hates me; she simply wants what I have.”
“And forcibly taking it by lying is going to result in a long and successful career?” Annie shook her head. “Those kind of antics might work in the short term, but the second the next project comes along and people realize it’s not talent that’s gotten her there, she’ll get dumped. It’s a shortsighted approach.”
“True.” Remi bobbed her head. “Although I wonder if the review on Bad Bachelors is an indication that Wes let her go.”
“Are you going to speak to him?” Annie asked.
“I have to. But not until I know exactly how I want to approach this whole thing.” Remi bit into her toast, but it tasted of sawdust, so she pushed the plate away. “And the first thing I need to do is get that review taken down. If any of the media outlets that have been following Wes and his show see it…I can only imagine what’s going to happen.”
Annie remained quiet while she read the review on Remi’s phone, her perfectly shaped brows knitting together. “I can’t take it down, Remi. You know that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t break the terms and conditions of the site. There are no threats, there’s no inappropriate or graphic language. There’s nothing that indicates her statement about dating him is a lie.” Annie shook her head. “And if I look at her profile, she’s rated other men before this happened, so it’s a genuine, active account.”
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