by Lola Keeley
“Was she now?” Sawyer would pay for that in the morning.
“Victoria?”
“Yes?”
“Am I out of the ballet?”
“What?” Victoria moves closer to her on the sofa, taking Anna by the shoulders. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, I’m pretty busted up.” Anna points to her leg. “And Delphine was out sick today. Never mind if Irina will be fit…”
“Delphine is in San Francisco auditioning for her big sister’s job. She thinks I don’t know this, of course, but it’s a poorly kept secret. Irina, you leave her to me. She can dance on hot coals if she puts her mind to it. And you were only in the corps for Nutcracker. We have swings to put in for you.”
“But what if—”
“You’ll be back in plenty of time, and we’ve already laid the groundwork for Gala Performance. In a way, it’s almost a good thing. People who’ve noticed you will look for you in the corps. Now, they won’t get a glimpse again until Gala. Scarcity, exclusivity. It all sells, in its way.”
“That’s kinda cynical.” Anna accepts Victoria’s offered arm, and they hobble through to the bedroom. This apartment and injury seem destined for one another.
“I need to go out for an hour,” Victoria says when Anna is in bed. “Do you need anything?”
“Ice cream?” Anna ventures, clearly forgetting there are at least three tubs in the freezer already.
“Sure,” Victoria says.
It’s all getting a little too domestic, and she wants to flee before her skin starts to itch. All the same, the moment she closes the door behind her, she wants to go back and make sure Anna is okay. Pathetic, really.
The car ride downtown is uneventful, and Victoria steels herself for heading into the damn club again. Must Rick spend his time in such tacky places? Just as before, she’s shown to a back room by a hostess who pities Victoria for having passed thirty.
“Rick—” she starts as soon as he enters, but he’s in no mood.
“Another one, Victoria? What the hell is going on?”
“You really want to talk to me about injuring my dancers? Tread very fucking carefully, Richard. You could have ended her damn career, long before those great reviews for Pagodas.”
He doesn’t sit this time, doesn’t offer her a drink. Rick is pacing, like he actually cares about something for a change. Money really must be tight around the company. Maybe he’s finally having to put his hand in his own pocket.
“I’ve only just convinced Lilith Gresham not to sue, since she doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Now your prodigy is out? Are you letting them warm-up properly? Are you working them too hard? Which is it, Victoria?”
“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to. Morgan is a preexisting weakness. Anna was too enthusiastic in her développé. It happens, Rick.”
“Don’t fuck this up for us,” he warns, waving that finger again like she’s some recalcitrant child. She has a good mind to steal his watch, the only thing in the room heavy enough to knock him out with one swing. “I want to know the minute Sawyer signs her back into the studio, and I will be supervising as I see fit. We clear?”
“You’ll continue to stay the hell out of my way,” Victoria responds with an eye roll. As come-to-Jesus talks go, this isn’t her first. “We have a deal. Interfere and I’ll walk tomorrow. Can’t get Liza while she’s still under contract.”
“I’m beginning to think you don’t even want to stay. Count yourself lucky. If she was available, or Meredith Prince would leave London—”
“Like you could get Meredith.” Victoria can’t believe the arrogance of him. “Anna will be fit and ready, so will Delphine and Irina. They’ll all have understudies, who hopefully won’t be needed. That’s all I can guarantee right now.”
“Fantastic.” Rick’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. He finally sits, and as he scrubs at his face, Victoria can see he’s exhausted. “How the hell did it come to this? Glass in someone’s shoe? Plotting with that bitch Liza? I don’t want to be that guy, Vicki.”
“You stopped trusting me,” Victoria says. “I know what I’m doing. And don’t ever move against me, or Anna, again. Or I’ll make you regret it. Way worse than some broken glass.”
“I was wrong to hold back on her. She was really something, as the prince.”
“She was.”
“Was Delphine as good as you were in London?”
“No, but who could be?” Victoria isn’t being immodest. She spent a decade chasing that performance in everything she did. “We’re getting divorced, you and I. This is the part where we grin and bear it. For the children. Come the summer, one way or another, we’ll be done.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Try me.” Victoria moves toward the door, expecting him to stop her. He lets her walk out, though, and for the first time she really thinks he’ll let her walk from the company, too.
It’s late when Victoria comes into the bedroom, smelling like rain and Anna’s toothpaste.
“Hey,” she murmurs, pulling her head up from the pillow. “You came back.”
“I have an apartment of my own. I can always cross the road if you’re so mystified by my presence.”
Not happy, then. Victoria gets snappish quicker than anyone Anna’s ever met. Maybe she should dislike it. Instead, she just wants to kick the person who pissed Victoria off in the first place.
“Sorry,” Victoria adds a moment later, sinking back into her own pillow. “How’s the pain?”
“Fine,” Anna lies. “I’ve never been out for more than a couple of days before. It’s going to be weird.”
“You get used to it. Just don’t fall into the daytime-television trap. I had nightmares about Oprah for months.”
“I can’t imagine you having nightmares. Nothing scares you.”
“Richard is trying his best to,” Victoria admits, and she sounds smaller than Anna has ever heard. “He’s not happy. Again.”
“Because I hurt myself. I’m sorry. You don’t need this extra stress.”
“I’m fine.” It’s clearly Victoria’s turn to lie, and she’s not subtle about it.
In the dim light of the bedroom, Anna can barely make out her face.
“Just focus on getting back. It helps to have a goal. That’s what got me through those first weeks.”
“You thought you’d go back to dancing?” Anna feels the hidden blocks shifting as things finally shift into place. She’s getting the whole story this time. They’re both too worn down for anything else. “Even though you knew how bad it was when you landed?”
“My surgeon was an optimist. Despite my mood, I was desperate enough to believe him. The surgeries had gotten so advanced, he thought he could get anyone back on their feet.”
“Then why didn’t he? Why aren’t you back dancing?”
“They were so caught up on the injury, they didn’t realize the pain I was talking about was higher in my leg. I was still out of it from the anesthetic, then the painkillers. I couldn’t make them understand. It was only a junior doctor looking in the wrong place who stumbled across it. An infarction in the muscle. I was lucky not to lose the leg.”
“Wow.” Anna sits up. “That’s horrible.”
“Yes, it was.” Victoria glares up at her, that much evident even without Anna seeing clearly. “They caught it just in time, but it ruined the muscle I needed to support my knee while it recovered. It’s all water under the bridge, Anna. I don’t even know why I’m telling you now.”
“Because you know how much I care about you?”
“You’re sweet.” Victoria pulls her closer. “But I need this win for me. One way or another, I’m going to have to move on at some point. If I don’t make a splash I’m going to have to go and teach kids in some backwater.”
“Yeah, right.” Anna kisses her. “Even if you wanted to, they’d be the luckiest baby bunheads in the world.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Victoria relaxes for t
he first time since she got into bed.
“You know, if I wasn’t scared to move my leg right now, I’d…”
“I know.” Victoria laughs and kisses her on the forehead. “Get some sleep. Kim will want to talk recovery with you tomorrow.”
“Great,” Anna says with a grumble. “I’m glad you’re here, though.”
“Anna, I’m not good at this…stuff. I’m apologizing now for all the ways in which I’m going to let you down.”
“Don’t,” Anna says, hushing her. “I don’t expect you to play nurse. I’ve got friends, family. It’s not all on you because we slept together a few times.”
“Oh.” Victoria almost sounds disappointed. “Well, good then. Good night.”
“Night.” Anna waits until Victoria’s breathing slows, and she falls into sleep before reaching for her phone. She hasn’t told Jess what happened yet, and that’s going to take more than a couple of texts.
CHAPTER 37
“Well, it’s the walking dead!” Delphine shouts across the studio floor. “Welcome back, Gale. It’s about time you did some damn work around here.”
Anna strides in, beaming so hard that the smile hurts her face. It’s so good to be back that she feels a little high. Two weeks cooped up at home, another two under Marcia’s thumb in Dubuque, and the intense physical therapy have left her desperate to just slip on her pointe shoes and dance.
“You can’t keep the audiences happy without me, Delphine?” She feels five pounds lighter just sitting down to sew up a fresh pair of shoes.
Irina enters then, walking as freely as Anna. Instead of her usual position by the far wall, she comes to sit next to Anna’s open bag. “Malenkaya.”
“Irina.”
“You’re finally back.”
“You know I was actually injured, right?”
“You didn’t even break anything,” Irina says before dealing with her own shoes. It’s only when they’re all up and moving that Victoria finally appears.
“Ladies,” she greets them, drifting close enough to Anna on the way past to skim her bare shoulder with a finger. “Welcome to crunch time.”
“Oh please, at the Bolshoi we mounted Swan Lake in four days. Missing a week of rehearsal on this is nothing.” Irina waves her hand. “Well, not for Delphine or me.”
“Very nice,” Anna says. “No sympathy for the newbie.”
“We did warn you,” Delphine gets in on the teasing. “This is big-girl pants only, this little club. Keep up or get out. We’ve both got our eye on a corps member to replace you if not.”
“Yes, ones more used to the pressure,” Irina confirms. “What, you thought you were irreplaceable, little one?”
Victoria brings their fun to an end. “Leave her alone, you witches.”
Anna is glad of it. She knows it comes with the territory, but it’s been a long, hard slog to get back and get fit. It’s tough not to feel a little sensitive, when the thought of watching from the cheap seats instead of performing was a real possibility. “Anna, you’ve done your modified warm-up already?”
“Yes, Kim kept on my ass about it,” Anna says. “Don’t worry, I don’t actually want to be injured again.”
“Just be careful.” Her smile is fond.
It’s the last glimpse of anything kind Anna sees for the next three hours, because Victoria puts them through their paces like ballet boot camp. They’ve hardly seen each other all month, apart from a very enthusiastic reunion when Anna returned from Dubuque.
Victoria’s been slammed getting the rest of the season into shape, and Anna’s been trapped in a cycle of intense PT and rest.
Anna had big plans for tonight. By the time Victoria’s session comes to an end, Anna’s not sure she’s going to make it home without curling up and napping on the street.
Irina walks her out, hobbling a little in sympathy.
“It’s good for us,” Irina assures her. “Like a plunge pool after the sauna.”
“Oh God, can someone dunk me in ice water? That sounds amazing.”
Victoria follows them out. “You’re absolutely right, Anna. I’ll have Kim draw up the ice bath. Irina, how does that strike you?”
“Like I’d rather die. I’ve done my time in the cold, Vicki. You should be careful about giving your girlfriend a cold shower.”
“Ice bath,” Victoria corrects.
“Oh, that means the girlfriend part is legit?” Delphine joins in. “Took you long enough.” She fishes in her bag for a moment. “Can I get an official date? There’s a betting pool, and I plan on rigging it so I win.”
“Contrary to popular belief, and the graffiti in the third-floor bathrooms, this is not in fact a high school.” Victoria shuts them down. “Anna, come with me. Let them speculate.”
Anna follows her, taking Victoria’s offered hand before shooting a smile back at Delphine and Irina. That’s one way to officially break the news. She’s on quite the high until she discovers the ice bath is neither a joke nor a euphemism.
Stripped to sports bra and shorts, she shivers before even getting in the damn thing. Kim isn’t around today; one of her techs is doing the honors.
“Come on.” Victoria sounds encouraging. “The sooner you do it, the sooner I can take you for a late lunch.”
Anna hoists herself into the tub, one-third full with cold water from the faucet. It’s a shock, but no worse than running a blast of cold in the shower on mornings where she can’t wake up fully. Having been so overheated from the strenuous rehearsal, it’s almost a comfort after the initial hard slap of cold. Then the tech dumps the first sack of ice in, and Anna hisses through her teeth. He’s moving on to a second and a third in short order, the temperature plummeting as Anna sits in it.
“I hate you,” she tells Victoria, teeth chattering. “We’d better be going to, like, my favorite restaurant for lunch.”
When the tech moves away, after checking the temperature display, Victoria leans in to whisper in Anna’s ear. “I’m taking you home for lunch. Any objections?”
The shiver down Anna’s spine is far more pleasurable than the ones caused by cold. Victoria presses a gentle kiss to Anna’s cheek before going back to her phone.
“Can you read me something?” Anna asks. “No way I can make fifteen minutes without a distraction.” She’s half tempted to jump out now, but looking weak in front of Victoria is not an option.
“What could I possibly read that’s of interest?”
“I don’t know, whatever you’re reading. Or the politics section of the Times. Or the Apple Terms and Conditions. I just…like the sound of your voice.”
“I suppose there are decent acoustics in here.” Victoria straightens on her stool. “Liza opened Giselle last night. Shall we check her reviews?”
Her voice was too high, too light. Victoria must have already read them and found them lacking. Normally Anna would discourage pettiness, but she likes to see Victoria smile.
“Go on, then.”
“‘In a role she has long since outgrown, Wade brings only the slightest of her star power to the role. Her performance is rote and reluctant, as though only performing as a favor, and for someone she doesn’t like all that much.’”
“That’s mean,” Anna notes. “If that was my review, I would have cried.”
“Don’t worry, she’s probably boiling the critic’s bunny as we speak. Liza doesn’t take these things lying down. I almost like that about her.” Victoria’s smile is cruel, but still annoyingly attractive.
“Please tell me it’s been fifteen?”
“Not yet.” Victoria checks her phone display again. “But not long now.”
Victoria is absolutely getting soft. Sitting in on an ice bath, reading for comfort. Confirming to her past and present prima that she’s seeing Anna. Despite Victoria’s bravado about not being cowed into secrecy, she’s been somewhat relieved that no one seems to have noticed anything amiss. She has her favorites, of course, and each season requires a certain amount of handhold
ing.
While idle gossip and bitching runs off her like water off a duck’s back, Victoria feels preemptively defensive that any of it should be about Anna. That would be unacceptable, especially if they accuse her success of being simple nepotism. It’s a worry, one Victoria can’t shake, that her selfish desire for the other woman may taint what could be a flourishing career.
Then again, Victoria never was much good at denying herself what she wants. She’s so used to going for it after being told no, after being pushed aside or hurt when it matters most, that she doesn’t really know if she could stop now.
Getting Anna out of the ice and into warm clothing for a spell adds to the frustration that’s building. Victoria didn’t object when Anna went home to her foster mother for two weeks, letting her provide the TLC while Anna slowly recovered. Truthfully Victoria should barely have noticed the absence, with the hundred daily annoyances of her role.
It hasn’t helped that they’ve seen so little of each other since Anna returned to the city. Apart from one night that started with Victoria joking about their complementary limps and ended with a broken slat on the headboard, time together has been scarce.
Which is how it has to be. Only it’s nowhere close to the end of the working day and Victoria is skipping out with a freshly defrosted Anna for a lunch that’s the flimsiest pretext for sex Victoria’s ever been party to.
“Oh, I thought I’d never be warm again,” Anna says after a long exhale as they step out into the midday sunlight. “Thank you, you know.”
“For doing my job?”
“No.” Anna leans in to kiss her on the mouth. “You know what for.”
And yes, Victoria has to admit she does.
Stage rehearsal is upon them before Anna knows what’s hit her. The work has been relentless, and she’s still concerned her own performance is dwarfed by the work Delphine and Irina do in their sections, but Victoria seems pleased even on the days when Anna wants to go again and again out of sheer frustration.
