“Gin and tonic for you?” Shay asked with a wry smile.
Jessica laughed. “Yeah, that was my liquid courage. I was so nervous to see you.”
“Nervous over that?” He eyed the bruise.
“A little. More nervous over what it would feel like to see you after all this time.”
“And?”
“Love at first sight.”
He sat back in his chair, overcome with both happiness and the realization that he needed to earn that love. “Jess, we have a lot to sort out, but are we agreed that we’re really trying for this? For us?”
She started to respond but their waiter came to the table. Once they were told of the specials and they ordered drinks, the waiter left them alone again.
“Well, love?” Shay asked.
“I never expected to have another chance, Shay,” she said, leaning toward him. “I knew I’d given up too soon, too easily. Just like I did with ballet. And the regret I had was the same with both. It was all-consuming. I hope it’s not too late to try again with you.”
“It’s not too late,” he said and she smiled. “But I need you to do something for me.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me about dance. Tell me all that you held back from telling me before. I want to understand all that it is to you. Especially because I know I fucked up by not trying to understand sooner. To be honest, I feared you opening up about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not proud of this, Jess. But there was a part of me that didn’t want you looking back at ballet. I could see that it had a huge hold on you and I thought I’d lose you to it.”
She looked away from him, letting his admission sink in. Then she let out a sad laugh. “Well, you lost me anyway, didn’t you?”
“You mean you didn’t leave just because of Danny Boy?”
“It was him. But more than anything it was feeling like I had lost a part of myself. But that happened before I even met you. That happened when I gave up being a professional dancer. That was the worst decision of my life and until I started teaching I didn’t know how I could recover from it.”
“But you knew you couldn’t find your way while with me.”
“Yes,” she admitted and he was glad when the waiter returned with his Pilsner and her Chardonnay. “I’m sorry if that hurts, babe. I’m not saying it to hurt you.”
“It’s fine.”
“I was lost when I met you. I was in a company—a permanent member of the corps de ballet at San Francisco Ballet. I know you don’t know what that means, but it’s pretty impressive. But then I quit and moved to New York. I was waitressing and taking class and going to school but I was just going through the motions. I was numb. And then I met you, and everything came alive for me again. You were everything I needed at that moment. I fell so hard and so quick for you that it scared me. I had just come off of making this disastrous decision of quitting dance and I wasn’t sure if running off with a rock star was my next big mistake. But you proved to be the best thing I ever did.”
It felt so fucking good to hear her say that. At the same time, he knew there was more. And that it was the part where they went wrong.
“But?” he asked.
She took a deep breath and nodded on the exhale. “But at about the time you started spending all that time in studio and I had time on my own, I started to feel what was missing. And it only got worse the more you were committed to the band because it was just so obvious that I didn’t have that thing that fulfills me like you do with music. It’s that creative process you were talking about with the street artist earlier. You so clearly understand what that is and how necessary it is. But you didn’t understand that I needed it.”
“I—”
“I’m not saying it’s your fault. I’m just trying to make you see how lonely it felt for me there, with no one to understand that.”
“God, I wish you had talked to me back then.”
“I do, too.” She took a sip of her wine. “But I wasn’t ready—I didn't really understand what I needed. All I knew is I needed to figure it out.”
“And yet.”
She looked at him with confusion.
“And yet,” he continued, “you are in a relationship with Anton.”
“He was a package deal for me to return to ballet. I thought it made sense at the time.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not exactly true. I knew at the start that it wasn’t right, but it was a way to move forward. So I just hoped for the best.”
“Look what that got you.”
“Are you going to shame me for this?” She pointed at her eye.
“No,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. I’m just—fuck, I don’t know. I’m trying to understand everything, Jess. It’s a lot.”
“I told you we’re complicated.”
He smiled and then laughed. Even though things weren’t perfect, he was so happy to be sitting here with her. “I can handle complicated.”
“I know you can.”
Leaning over the table, he kissed her. She touched his cheek, prolonging the kiss, and when he pulled away it was only so he could bite her lip as he did so.
“I’m sore,” she said quietly, putting her fingers to her lips. “Like I haven’t been in a long time.”
“I’ve only just begun.”
She laughed. “I almost forgot how bad you are at flirting.”
“Terrible, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re perfect.”
He knew that wasn’t true. But the fact that she was willing to frame him as such was a hopeful sign.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
They talked late into the night, until the restaurant manager politely asked them to move on. When she first met Shay, Jessica described her dance experience in broad strokes, but described how it had consumed her life. It meant she didn’t have a normal childhood. An abbreviated school schedule eliminated everything but necessary coursework so she could spend the rest of her days and evenings in a rigorous program as a part of City Ballet School. She had no time for dating or going to parties or even keeping up with most current music and trends, which actually suited her more introverted personality. She had always been shy, but once she found ballet, it became an outlet for expression that she quickly fell in love with.
Her focus was complete, her commitment unwavering. She dreamed of becoming the next Misty Copeland—the first African American principal dancer in the American Ballet Theatre's seventy-five year history. Eventually she was selected for the school’s pre-professional training, an intensive, individualized program. The pressure to deliver was phenomenal, but she thrived under the guidance of the renowned Russian instructors. She was elevated to dance in the corps de ballet of the San Francisco Ballet, the oldest professional ballet company in America. Jessica knew it was just the beginning to her career. Though she had a lot to learn, she was ready to put in the hard work it would take to both improve and prove herself.
But one year, then two years, and finally a third year passed and she saw no new opportunities. She seemed to be considered a permanent part of the corps de ballet, a position that valued uniformity and consistency but would never allow her to shine.
By accident, she learned Anton had been instrumental in getting her the job with San Francisco Ballet. He had been an instructor at City Ballet, and in her last year they’d begun sleeping together. Anton was older and had grown up and danced professionally in Russia. She, like a lot of the female students, had revered him. He was talented, of course, but he also had a presence and confidence that couldn’t be denied. It was only much later that she realized it was actually arrogance. Still, as a young, romantically inexperienced woman who craved validation of her dancing ability, she was easily seduced. They became a couple, and though she hated to admit it, she enjoyed being the envy of the other girls.
He lavished his attention on her as she became his project, convincing her that with his help she would be a soloist an
d then principal ballerina in record time.
As the years went on, however, his enthusiasm waned. He was less vocal in suggesting she would make a rapid rise through the ballet company. Jessica sensed he had new “favorites” at City Ballet but her hours at SFB left little time to investigate her suspicions. Then Anton went out with a three-month travelling company that put on exhibitions all over the world. Two weeks before he was to return, he phoned to complain of how hard it was being by himself night after night. When he begged her to join him, he knew she would say no—she couldn’t miss a performance.
The next time he called, he breezily mentioned he had found the companionship she had denied him. He said it was nothing to worry about because it was just casual sex. Jessica hadn’t known what was more hurtful—that he was cheating on her or that he deemed it so inconsequential, as if she would consent to such disregard. That he had almost gotten to the end of his tour before turning to someone else felt like adding insult to injury. It was as if he wanted to punish her, though she couldn’t understand for what. He could have just kept himself in check for a few more days. He could have kept his indiscretions to himself. Instead, he chose to act like he didn’t value their three years together at all.
~
Still shaken by Anton’s betrayal, Jessica nevertheless kept the appointment she had the next day with the director of San Francisco Ballet. She had gathered her courage to seek his counsel, to have an honest discussion of what her prospects were for moving up in the company.
Sitting in the hallway outside of the director’s office, she was wound tight with nervous energy. Had she eaten anything that day, she would have thrown up. Dread washed over her, and she had to fight the urge to get up and leave. Anton had broken her heart and her trust just the day before. She should have rescheduled this meeting since there was no way she could focus. Having a talk about her future when she was in this state was a bad idea.
Nodding at this thought, she stood up and headed down the narrow corridor toward the reception entryway. But she stopped short when she overheard office staff talking about her. The two women cattily described her as Anton’s “favorite pet” and wondered who would be next.
“At least this one is decent,” one woman said.
“Decent would be putting it kindly from what I heard,” the other replied. “But then again, we know Anton is more concerned with who he can manipulate than what their dance ability is, don’t we?”
As the women laughed, Jessica covered her mouth to stifle the sob she felt coming. She retreated down the hall and with suddenly unstable legs, sunk onto a chair. Those women had thrown her whole world into doubt. But before she could gather her thoughts, the director opened his door and beckoned her inside. He was, of course, a former dancer himself. After a respectable career, including a brief stint where both he and Anton danced briefly for The Royal Ballet, he had settled into management positions, rising to his current rank at about the same time that Jessica joined the company. Balding, he compensated for it with a hipster bushy beard that didn’t suit him. He had a habit of watching dress rehearsals hidden in the shadows of the theater seats and speaking in a booming voice when he saw something he didn’t like. The correction had the effect he likely hoped for of keeping the dancers on edge.
“So, you’re here for an assessment?” he asked. “That’s really not for me to get into. You should be speaking with your instructors—they know you better.”
She nodded, barely registering what he was saying.
“But, since you managed to get my time, let me see if I can recall my impressions from your work in the corps.”
As he spoke, everything was colored by what she had just learned from the women in the office. He may have had some positive things to say, but all she heard was his declaration that her unideal body type made her a merely proficient dancer. With condescension, he added that he was interested in continuing to give her the chance to rise above those limitations, almost as if it was an experiment. Worst of all, he intimated that her place with the company was a gift she should be grateful for. Normally, she’d shrug off someone doubting her abilities and work harder than ever to prove them wrong. But how could she argue with the director of San Francisco Ballet?
Walking out of his office, she was disoriented. Everything felt like a lie: Anton convincing her she had rare talent; her relationship with Anton; her years of sweat and sacrifice for ballet. It all amounted to feeling like a sham. She had been fooling herself to think she was special, that her love for dance and her desire to work hard was enough to set her apart.
This sudden understanding that the dream that had defined her life since she was just a little girl now held no promise was a profound disappointment. The embarrassment was oppressive, as well. She was embarrassed to have spent all these years so single-mindedly pursuing what she thought was her destiny that she couldn’t see things as they really were. The odds of becoming the next Misty Copeland were astronomical. How had she dared to think such a thing was more than mere fantasy?
The betrayal of Anton falsely building her up hurt worse than him cheating. She confronted him when he returned to town, asking him whether it was true that he had used his influence to get her a place at SFB. When he rather proudly asserted that the director was a friend who would do anything for him, her doubts were all confirmed. Though Anton tried to convince her that his help to get her hired was inconsequential and that she did have the talent to succeed, she was too shaken to listen. Likewise, his explanation that the director was too busy to even know her from any other member of the corps de ballet, and had probably said those things solely to motivate her, fell on deaf ears. He said she was being impatient and if she just put in her dues, she would get her chance to move forward. But it was too late by then to be convinced. She quit the company and moved to New York.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
In the car Shay had called to take them back to the city, Jessica rested her head against his shoulder and they were quiet. She felt drained from revisiting the exhilarating highs and devastating lows of her ballet life. She also felt at peace with it. Shay had listened intently, only interrupting occasionally to ask a clarifying question. He didn’t judge her as she spoke and instead offered understanding and acceptance, even as he lamented once more how he wished she had shared all this before now.
Shay wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she snuggled close to him. She was right where she wanted to be. Anton felt like a distant memory. She knew they couldn’t hide from the real world for much longer, but it did feel good to escape for the time being. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what they would do next.
Her first priority was officially breaking it off with Anton. There was more to it than just their relationship, however. They would have to figure out how to still run the business together, because she wanted to stay in San Francisco. Somehow, she’d have to convince Shay that this could work for them. He had hinted at being open to moving earlier, hadn’t he? When they were having coffee and he agreed he should get out of his safety zone. At least, that’s what she hoped he meant, though he had told her more than once that he was committed to being in Dublin. He felt that all the band members living in the same city was the key to their continued success. It meant they could not just get together on a whim to work on music, but that they could hang out with each other and keep their bond tight. He was certain that their bond was what made them the cohesive and creative force that they were.
Even if they could be together, how would she handle Danny Boy? Shay had said Danny Boy was in Florida but had plans to rejoin the tour once it started up again. It felt right that Shay would look after him on tour. After all, Danny Boy had managed to stay sober. But, she still couldn’t help but feel that Danny Boy posed a danger to her relationship with Shay.
It was a relationship that couldn’t go anywhere until she dealt with Anton. She had to speak with him face to face. She would say that getting back together had been a mistake, but that
she hoped they could continue their working relationship. That almost made her laugh out loud. Anton was rigid, macho, and definitely not the “let’s-be-friends” type. The school was still on shaky ground. There was little chance he could pay back what she had invested, even if he was open to it.
Shay had suggested the two of them go to the school the following day. He claimed he wanted to see where she worked and even watch her teach, but she knew he was looking for an opportunity to confront Anton. Anton, who had tried to hide his intimidation and jealousy over Jessica having been with a famous rock star by dismissing Shay as “that little drummer boy.” He was in for a rude awakening.
“Anton is going to lose his mind,” Jessica finally said.
“Good,” Shay replied.
There was an edge in his voice that sent a shiver through her. She wasn’t sure if it was because his tone thrilled or scared her.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Instead of trying to make a stealthy arrival, Shay instructed the driver to drop them off in front of the hotel.
“But, babe,” Jessica said, “what if there are still paparazzi out there?”
“Then they can take pictures of me and my girl. We don’t need to hide at this point, do we?”
“Well, I guess not,” she said hesitantly.
Their day in Sausalito had allowed Shay’s thoughts to settle, and he felt a renewed sense of confidence. He was determined to fight like hell for both Jessica and his band. It was his band, too. Gavin and Conor had had their share of fuckups without any kind of reprisal. Why should he fear he’d be punished for tarnishing Rogue’s reputation when the “scandal” with Jessica was a total fabrication, and Danny Boy’s escapades had been forgotten. Gavin was the one who had admitted to drug use—on a televised chat show of all things! Conor was the one who had left his fiancée at the altar—and she turned that into her own reality show, never missing an opportunity to reference Rogue just to keep the ratings up. And by comparison, Shay had done nothing but give his life to this band.
Hitting That Sweet Spot (Rogue Series Book 3) Page 24
