“Damian,” I whined when I noticed he wasn’t talking. “What is it? Tell me?” I stood as well and walked toward him.
“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. But you have to promise me that I will see no more sadness in your eyes. It hurts me too much to see you this way.”
I nodded. “Okay,” I said wiping away the last vestiges of tears from my face.
Damian sat on my makeup table then pulled me between his legs. “What do you plan on doing for the rest of your life?” he whispered into my neck.
Wait a minute. Was he proposing? Didn’t he realize I was still married?
“Um, I don’t know. Why?”
He looked at me and smiled again. “Because the Russian Ballet called. They want you in St. Petersburg. Tomorrow.”
Chapter 14
Emotional Distance
I think I passed out. The next few minutes were a complete blur. Then all of the sudden I was lying on the couch with Anna Marie, Raffaele, and Damian standing over me.
“I just had the most surreal dream,” I said to all of them. “I thought Damian had just told me that the Russian Ballet wanted me.”
Damian smiled then looked over at Anna Marie.
“He did tell you that,” she said.
“What?”
Damian nodded. “You need to be in St. Petersburg tomorrow morning. And tomorrow night, you’re going to be sharing a stage with Natalia Karleskaya.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I said fanning my face. I was hot and nauseated and I had the sudden, uncontrollable urge to puke.
“That was not the reaction I was expecting,” Damian said as Anna Marie handed me a trash basket.
“How did this happen? You did this for me, didn’t you?” I said to Damian as I hugged my bucket.
“No, you earned it.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “One of the soloists fractured her ribs. The understudy had a family emergency. When they were looking for a last minute replacement, my mother suggested you.”
“Natalia Karleskaya suggested me? Natalia Karleskaya wants to dance with me?”
He nodded again. “You won’t have an official contract with the company yet. You will be a guest artist for a few weeks. But once they see you dance, I’m sure everything will become permanent.”
Anna Marie smiled and then hugged me. “I’m so happy for you. This is your dream.”
Momentarily I flashed back to my conversation with Will. Didn’t I say something similar to him? Shaking my head, I tried to push out all thoughts of him. This was my moment. I didn’t need it to be overtaken with sadness about my marriage.
“We need to hurry and get you packed. There is a private plane waiting for you this minute to drop you off,” Damian said.
“Drop me off? You’re not coming too?” I asked in a panic.
“I can’t. I have another video shoot with Veronica next weekend. I haven’t even begun to work on the choreography yet. I can come see you next week some time though.”
“But I can’t go to Russia by myself. I don’t speak the language. I don’t know anyone. And I’m not even sure I can dance without you. I need you, Damian.”
Damian smiled his trademark sexy grin then kissed me gently on the lips. “Of course you can. You are an extraordinary ballerina. You always have been. I just brought out your passion. All you have to do is think of me when you dance.”
I thought I saw Anna Marie roll her eyes. She obviously had something to say about this situation, but considering the circumstances, I didn’t have time to get an earful from her. I had to pack.
“You get changed,” Anna Marie said. “Raffaele and I will run home and gather your things.”
“You mean she’s not buying a new wardrobe?” Raffaele asked in Italian. “If anything calls for a new wardrobe I think it’s dancing with the Russian ballet. I can design one for you. It would be my pleasure.”
Anna Marie dragged him out of the room midsentence. Once in the hallway, she poked her head back in. “Hurry, home, Sonya. We have to talk.”
I already had a feeling about what she was going to say.
~***~
“You know what he’s trying to do, don’t you?” Anna Marie asked as soon as I walked into her apartment.
“Who?” I replied.
“Damian.”
Just then Raffaele breezed into the living room babbling about how rain was expected in St. Petersburg over the next few days so he was packing a set of adorable rain boots and a matching jacket. He was glad that someone would be able to get good use out of them since they had been sitting in the front closet just taking up space. He also informed me that he was packing two bags for now and then would send a few more outfits in a couple of weeks.
I just stared at him in amazement at how he could have a complete conversation by himself.
Once he went back into the bedroom, I said, “What is he trying to do?”
“Raffaele? He’s packing for you.” Then she turned around and said, “Raffi, don’t forget to pack for our Milan trip!”
“No, I mean, Damian,” I said.
Anna Marie shook her head. “Oh, right. Don’t you think it’s really convenient that all of the sudden you are being invited to the Russian Ballet? The same Russian Ballet that his very own mother belongs to?”
“Damian says he had nothing to do with the decision for them to invite me.”
“Sure he didn’t,” Anna Marie said crossing her arms. “And this just happens to happen right after you split from Will.”
“So?” I hoped she wasn’t trying to talk me out of going to St. Petersburg. This was my lifelong dream. It was the only thing I wanted since the age of eight. I had spent the majority of my life cleaning a dance studio to afford lessons, wearing worn out sneakers with holes in order to save up to buy a new pair of pointe shoes, and enduring endless bullying in my neighborhood for being too different. There was no way I could pass this up.
“So, he’s obviously trying to pull you further away from your husband.”
I thought about this for a moment. I knew it was probably true, but I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe that Damian’s intentions were pure and that there was nothing wrong with me going even further away from my husband emotionally. I wanted to believe that I could enjoy my dream come true and still find the right man for me whether that was Will or Damian.
Anna Marie grabbed my hand and sat me down on the couch. “Sonya, I know this is everything you’ve ever wanted, but have you ever really sat down and thought about what you actually need?”
“What do you mean?”
“You went from being completely wrapped up in Will, your first boyfriend, to being completely overwhelmed by Damian. Maybe you need some time for you. And you’re not going to get that dancing in Russia with Damian’s mother.”
She was right. I knew she was right. I was going from being manipulated by Will to being manipulated by Damian and possibly his mother. I knew she liked me. When I met her after one of my performances a few months ago, she made it clear that she thought I was good for her son. She told me that she knew Damian was in love with me and that he had never been in love before. Maybe this was her attempt at getting us together permanently.
Chapter 15
Move the Music
Saint Petersburg was three hours ahead of Rome. So when I left Rome at midnight, it was already three a.m. there. The flight was another three hours long which meant I didn’t get to Saint Petersburg until six a.m. I was already exhausted and, from the itinerary left in my hotel room, I saw that rehearsal started at nine a.m.
Adding to the stress of being in a strange city, and having to dance brand new choreography after only a few hours of preparation, was the fact that the airport had lost my bags. Raffaele would be pissed that all of his hard work choosing my wardrobe was for naught. I would have to live out of my carryon until the airport could deliver the rest of my luggage.
The few short hours I had to sleep wouldn’t have mattered though. T
here was no way I would have been able to sleep. I was too excited. Dancing with the Russian Ballet was a dream I’d had for so long I wasn’t sure how it would feel once it was accomplished. It was almost as if my life would be complete after I danced on that stage tonight. I would have everything I ever wanted.
At exactly 8:45, I heard a banging on my hotel room door. Since I hadn’t been sleeping anyway, I was able to reach the door by the second round of knocking. My heart accelerated at the sight of my visitor.
“Did I wake you? I didn’t wake you did I?” Natalia Karleskaya said when I opened the door.
“No, I --” Before I could finish my thought, the petite Russian woman wrapped her arms around me and nearly lifted me off the floor.
“I’m just so happy you are here,” she said as she released me. “Is Damian with you?” She looked past me into the hotel room.
“No, he had a video shoot in Rome.”
Natalia looked disappointed. “Oh, I just thought he’d be coming with you.”
“Um, sorry.” I felt a little uncomfortable. It was as if she was happier to see me when she thought Damian was with me.
“Well, we better be on our way. You have a lot of dancing ahead of you today.” Her smile was back and I was instantly at ease. Well, as at ease as I could be considering I was about to dance with my idol.
The phrase “a lot of dancing” was a bit of an understatement. I had never learned so much choreography or danced so much in my life. I was exhausted before lunch, but I tried not to show it. I mean, here I was a mere eighteen years old and I felt like I needed a nap before lunch. Natalia was almost fifty and she was barely out of breath. I was so tired I felt like something wasn’t quite right with me. It felt like more than just jet lag from the plane ride and the time difference. Even Natalia noticed it.
“Are you feeling all right, Sonya?” she asked during one of our breaks.
“I’m just a little tired.”
“When we break for the day, why don’t you go see the company doctor?”
“Will I have time? The show starts in six hours.”
“You’ll have time. We make sure to have a doctor available at all times for emergencies. It won’t take more than a moment.”
We finished rehearsal at five and the show started at seven. I was supposed to use that two hour break to shower, eat, and dress for the performance. I also wanted to take a few minutes to watch the video footage from the previous shows. I wanted my transition to be as seamless as possible. I didn’t want the reviews in the paper the next day to say that I looked unrehearsed or that I stuck out like a sore thumb among all the seasoned dancers of the Russian Ballet. I wanted ... no, I needed to fit in.
How would I be able to live the rest of my life knowing that I finally reached my dream, but I wasn’t talented enough to maintain it? I would be devastated.
I wasn’t dancing the lead tonight. That honor, of course, went to Natalia. But after her I had the biggest role. There was so much to learn. I should have thought of it as a compliment that the Russian Ballet had enough confidence in me to believe that I could learn and perform an entire show in one day. I wasn’t sure if they were right or not.
Still going over steps and combinations in my mind, I reluctantly went to visit the company doctor. Considering I had to perform in a couple of hours, there were so many things I could have been doing that would have been much more useful. I hadn’t even been fitted for my costume yet.
I hoped and prayed that Dr. Blazhenov spoke English, but no such luck. After twenty minutes of hand gestures and each of us yelling in several different languages trying to find one we both understood, I finally gave up. I peed in a cup and let him take my blood pressure then dashed out of the office to go get ready for my debut with the Russian Ballet.
“How are you feeling?” Natalia asked me as we waited in the wings.
“Oh, I’m fine. I think it was just jet lag. I won’t let it affect my performance. I promise.”
“I know you won’t,” she said. She reached out and smoothed down the side of my tutu. “I have complete confidence in you.” Then she paused and looked at me with the biggest goofiest grin I had ever seen on a prima ballerina. “I’m just so happy you’re a part of the family,” she gushed as she hugged me. Thank goodness my costume was black because I was sure she wiped some makeup on me the way she buried her face in my stomach.
She let me go then twirled on to stage. I tried not to be mesmerized by her dancing but I couldn’t help it. I had watched recordings of her for most of my life and now she was dancing just a few feet away from me.
I was so in awe of every piqué, arabesque and pas de bourée that I totally missed my cue. A freaked out stage manager yelled something at me in Russian and I leapt on to the stage. I was so late that I had to take my turn sequence at double speed in order to make my next cue. This was enough to draw awes from the audience. That’s when a dazzling peace settled over me. Not many people got to live their dream. Or, in my case, dance their dream. And here I was, in the moment, doing it. This was where I belonged. This stage was like home.
My life was worth it. My life felt complete. I would easily repeat the ten years of scrubbing toilets and washing mirrors at Mrs. Alexander’s dance studio just for one more jeté or grand battement on that stage.
And then it was over. A two hour dance performance felt like it lasted a mere 30 seconds.
After three curtain calls I wandered back to my dressing room. Alone. Yes, I was smiling from ear to ear and I felt like I could fly, but sitting alone in my dressing room quickly brought me back to the ground.
I whipped out my phone and dialed my mother. It would be the middle of the afternoon in New Jersey so maybe she’d have a few minutes to chat. I just really needed to share my experience with my family.
“Sonya? Is that you?” I heard my mother’s voice and nearly burst into tears. When I first got to Italy, I would call her every day. As I got busy it slipped to every week. Then when I was admitted to the hospital for my eating disorder, it turned into once a month. Now I hadn’t spoken to her in almost three months.
“Yeah, it’s me Momma.”
“Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“I’m fine, mom. I’m great actually. I just danced with the Russian Ballet.”
“You’re in Russia? Why didn’t you tell me? Is there a recording of it, baby? I want to see it.”
“Yes, I’m in Russia. I’m sorry I didn’t call you. It all happened so --”
“Look, baby can you call me when I get off work? My lunch break is over and I have patients.”
“Oh, oh okay,” I said trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Great, I get off at seven. Can’t wait to talk to you, baby.”
As I clicked off my phone, I quickly did the math in my head. Seven her time would be three in the morning in Saint Petersburg. I knew that phone call was not going to happen.
I contemplated calling Anna Marie, but I knew she probably wouldn’t even answer. She and Raffaele were in Milan on a weeklong shopping trip. Raffaele didn’t like cell phones while he was shopping. He didn’t like any potential distractions. There was no doubt in my mind that he had turned off both of their phones.
I even thought about calling Sasha. After all she put me through, I couldn’t believe I considered calling her, but that was how desperate I was. I needed to talk to someone, but I had no one. But I couldn’t call her if I wanted to. I had no idea where she went after she stole my money and my passport. I practically had to live at the US embassy for a week in order to get all of my documents replaced. I was glad I did though. I wouldn’t have been able to go to Russia otherwise.
I sat down at my makeup table and stared at my reflection. I stared at the girl who had gone from eating ketchup on saltines for dinner in a roach-infested apartment to dancing on a glamorous European stage. The girl who now sat alone with no one to share it with.
Of course, there were two people who I could share
this with who would each understand my excitement in completely different ways. But calling one felt so much like a betrayal of the other.
I stared at my phone for so long I think the light from my makeup table started melting my sequins.
Will.
I needed to call Will. Just the idea of talking to him filled something cold and dead inside me with warmth and life. As soon as I pressed the button to call him, there was a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I said in Russian.
Somehow I was still shocked to see Natalia Karleskaya walk through my door.
“Oh, you haven’t changed your clothes yet?”
“No, I was a little distracted.” I turned my phone off then set it down.
She smiled and said, “I bet you are.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“I know you probably need to rest, so I won’t keep you long.” She pulled up a chair and took a seat. “I just wanted to let you know how happy I am you’re here.” She leaped out of her seat and hugged me again. This was starting to get weird.
Once she released me, she sat down and said, “I also wanted to tell you what a fantastic job you did tonight. So many people doubted me for requesting you, but you silenced them all with that one opening turn sequence. How you manipulated the timing on that was nothing less than brilliant. It is almost as if you move the music.”
“Thank you,” I said simply. I surely was not about to tell her that it was a complete accident.
“Anyway, I’m just so happy. You have no idea how happy.” When I saw her wipe a tear from her eye, I started to get an idea of how ‘happy.’ I could see that her English wasn’t perfect so I guessed she was having trouble finding a suitable synonym. But I still didn’t understand why my presence was having such an effect on her. “Hurry and change, dear. I have a driver ready to take you back to Damian’s place. He should be arriving any moment.”
“He’s coming? I thought he had work to do in Italy.”
The Saint of Petersburg (Dancing Dream #3) Page 6
