ANOTHER SKY

by Jayne Frost

  Defeated, I felt my shoulders sag. “How bad is it?”

  Sympathy flashed across Daryl’s grizzled features and I knew I was fucked. Good and proper.

  “Pretty damn bad.” He pushed off the wall. “Now let’s go inside and put our heads together so we can figure out how we’re going to handle it.”

  Gelsey

  Sipping my club soda, I glared at Micha like the traitor he was. Cozied up to Jelena and Sasha, the darlings of the New York City Ballet, he barely acknowledged me. But the Toxic Twins hadn’t taken their eyes off me since I’d arrived at the Brooklyn brownstone.

  Micha finally tore himself from their clutches, shaking his empty bottle of water at the pouting girls. As he strode toward the kitchen like he owned the place, I lightly touched his arm.

  “It figures you’d befriend the only two female dancers whose last names end in vowels,” I said.

  He shrugged, not even bothering to deny it. Jelena and Sasha were the best, and Micha would shore up alliances to get ahead.

  Seizing control of the conversation, he asked, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  My tongue took residence on the roof of my mouth and I reached for my glass. Before I choked down even a sip, Tatiana took a seat beside me.

  Micha took that as his cue to leave.

  Coward.

  Tatiana let her gaze follow him for a second before saying, “Jely and Sasha seem quite taken with your dance partner.”

  Out of the corner of my mouth, I replied snidely, “Is that the reason they’re glaring at me? Are they jealous?”

  She laughed lightly. “No.”

  “Then, why?”

  “Not here,” she said, a hint of warning in her tone. “Come with me and I will explain.”

  Jelena and Sasha sat up when Tatiana slid off her stool, but she turned icy blue eyes in their direction. “Ne dvigajtes’.”

  Don’t move.

  Smirking at me, they sank back down, safe in their assurance that I didn’t understand the exchange. Normally, I’d let them think whatever they wanted. I’d done it for years. But instead, I gave them a demure smile. “Izvinite.”

  Their faces fell, but I kept walking. As soon as Tatiana and I stepped into the hallway the room exploded in spontaneous conversation behind us. I tried to block out the chatter. Unsuccessfully, since I clearly heard a couple of disparaging remarks about the shape of my nose and the set of my eyes. In heavily accented Russian. Lovely.

  I side-eyed Tatiana as we headed for the stairs. “Please tell me I said ‘excuse me’ and not something else.”

  She patted my arm. “You did. And very well, I might add. How much of our language do you know?”

  Your language. But I kept that to myself too.

  “I understand everything.” She raised a brow and I nodded. “But I don’t speak it often. Only to Ivan.”

  Her smile grew, the way it always did when I said his name. It was a mix of admiration and something else. A crush? I scoffed inwardly at the thought. But then we topped the stairs and came upon the first photo on the wall, an image of Ivan performing on a stage I didn’t recognize, and her features softened.

  “Jelena and Sasha were raised on stories about Ivan. He is legendary in Russia…” Her gaze lovingly roamed the picture. “Of course, they know Baryshnikov and Nureyev, but Ivan’s story is more…intriguing. Romantic.”

  I didn’t think there was anything I didn’t know about Ivan. But Tatiana’s wistful smile told me I was mistaken. “Romantic?”

  She shuffled to the right, where more photos lined the wall, and paused in front of one that took my breath away. My mother.

  “There were a hundred companies where Ivan could have settled after his injury. Including this one. But he followed Katya to Texas of all places. Just to be near her. He wanted to win her back, you know?”

  My stomach pitched. “Back?”

  “Your mama was in much pain with her injuries. Your grandmother had worked her so hard since childhood. She wanted to retire. Start a family.” Her shoulder lifted in a half-shrug. “With Ivan. But he had more to do. To accomplish. It was only after Katya married your father that he understood what he had lost. He was never the same after that. And he did not even try to rehabilitate his injury. He just…packed up and followed Katya.” Tatiana sighed and refocused on the photo. “But he was too late. Katya was already pregnant with you.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Why wouldn’t he just leave.”

  “Hope, I guess. He thought your mama would come to her senses. But Katya was not made that way. And she did love your father. And then you were born. And Ivan never once thought about leaving.”

  “Why? Because of me?” I squeaked.

  “Oh, yes. He lavished you with all the love he felt for Katya. And she let him. She thought it might make up for you not having any family to speak of. Your grandmother was…distant. Bitter. But she did agree to work with Ivan at the studio. After Katya died, however, he severed those ties.”

  “Why?”

  Tatiana hesitated, drawing in a deep breath before turning to me. “She had found two girls in Moscow whom she believed would be the next great dancers. Sisters, one year apart. She wanted them to train in Austin, with Ivan. They made a visit with their families. The mother said something disparaging about you. Something to the effect that you would never live up to Katya’s potential. It was an offhanded remark. But Ivan refused to teach her daughters after that.”

  My lips parted in a gasp as I put the pieces together. “Jelena and Sasha?”

  Tatiana smiled. “Yes. So you understand why they might feel animosity toward you even if it is not warranted?”

  I nodded, then looked down at the phone buzzing in my hand. I’d called the car service that Miles had set up almost an hour ago, and they’d finally arrived.

  “My car is here,” I said, trying not to show how grateful I was for the reprieve. As bad as I thought it could be, moving in with a houseful of strangers, it was worse. My only saving grace was Miles. I’d come to the brownstone every night if I had to. But only to sleep. The rest of the time, I’d spend with him.

  Tatiana chucked a knuckle under my chin. “You did good today. Get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow at the theater.”

  Miles

  I peered out the window of the limo, surveying the quiet, tree-lined street. The neighborhood was nicer than I expected. Cleaner.

  Brooklyn. Who fucking knew?

  Still, as my gaze slid up the facade of the brownstone, absently counting the windows, I surmised the whole building was about half the size of my house in Austin. And not much bigger than the SoHo apartment. I didn’t have any clue how many dancers shared the space, but it was bound to be a tight fit.

  The front door creaked open, and Daryl slid onto the seat next to the driver.

  “It’s a good neighborhood,” he said as he twisted to face me.

  Dubious, I lifted a brow. “And you can tell that from a five-minute stroll in the dark?

  He glimpsed my hand, clasped tightly around my thigh. I’d been massaging the muscles for hours, the burn and subsequent pain keeping me focused on something besides Gelsey and what she was doing.

  She’d sent me a text this morning informing me that she was leaving with Tatiana, but no further explanation. For all I knew, she’d spent the day defending our relationship. Or worse, listening intently while others enumerated all the reasons we shouldn’t be together.

  I knew she loved me. But I couldn’t compete with the one thing she’d been working for her whole life. Her shot. And I wouldn’t make any foolish demands. I’d tried that before with disastrous results.

  Daryl took out his phone, spouting some crime statistics about the neighborhood to bolster his assertion. But my mind had wandered. Dark clouds pushed in, and I could smell the rain even though the skies were clear. It was always there; I realized. The impending storm. Ready to sweep me away.

  Jerking to t
he present when the car door swung open, I met blue eyes that quieted the chaos.

  Gelsey blinked in surprise. “Miles. You’re here.”

  I wasn’t sure where the lines were drawn. Which part of her life she was willing to share and what she wanted to keep to herself. Had I overstepped?

  Before I could conjure a reply, she launched herself at me, arms looping around my neck. Her mouth crashed into mine, and I pulled her onto my lap.

  “I missed you,” I said truthfully, before darting my tongue between her lips.

  Daryl cleared his throat, and Gelsey broke our connection with a start. Her head cocked to the side, brows drawn together in disbelief as her gaze shifted to the front seat.

  “Daryl?”

  He flashed her a rare smile, all teeth. Which, if I were honest, looked a little menacing. “Hey, pretty girl. Good to see you.”

  Genuine affection laced his Tennessee drawl, and I felt my own smile appear.

  Biting it down quickly so he wouldn’t get the idea I was happy about his presence, I said, “Yes, the leaner is here. We can all sleep better at night.” Mock glaring at my bodyguard, I made a sweeping motion with my hands. “Now shoo. Be seen and not heard.” I shook my head. “On second thought, I don’t want to see you either.”

  I hit the button, and Daryl narrowed his eyes as the partition started to rise. His smile returned when my girl gave him a wave.

  Pinning her back to the seat a minute later when the limo started to roll, I eased on top of her and dropped a kiss to her mouth. She tasted like lime and smelled like heaven.

  Taking my face between small hands, she held me there in the moment, her expression serious. “I’m sorry.”

  Nothing good ever started with sorry. Sorry was a portent of disaster. The beginning of the end.

  I turned solid, a stone in her arms, as every doubt found its way to the surface. “About?”

  Her fingers moved up, gently pushing the hair out of my eyes. “Today. Disappearing on you like that. Ruining our plans.”

  Relief flooded me. But I tried not to show it. “It’s just a day. We’ll have plenty more.” I rested my forehead against hers. “All the time in the world.”

  The phrase slipped from my lips and hung between us like a promise. I’d never actually said it before, but I’d thought it. Believed it. And fate had made a liar out of me.

  This was different though. Because Gelsey and I were in it together. I’d give her all the days. And all the time. And she’d give me everything else.

  Miles

  “You realize you’ve ignored like five of my calls,” Taryn said flatly. “And now you’re calling me at nine a.m. for a favor.”

  She wasn’t wrong. And I should’ve been apologizing. But I was too busy trying to avoid the paparazzi outside Lincoln Center and find the side door to the theater.

  “I’m ignoring everyone’s calls, T-Rex.”

  And I had the voice mails to prove it. Thirty-six, the last time I checked.

  “I’m not everyone.” A little huff accompanied the declaration, and I smiled.

  “You’re right. I’m a dick,” I admitted in my most sincere voice. “A terrible friend. Thoughtless.” Hanging a sharp right when I noticed a couple of photographers congregating by the fountain, I double-timed it up the stairs. “Now will you just tell me the name of the security guard and where I can find him?”

  Behind me, Daryl chuckled. He was enjoying this way too much.

  When we’d left the hotel, I’d been prepared to ditch him, sure he was going to discourage me from my mission. But, surprisingly, he was all about it. I think he was too psyched to see Gelsey dance to worry about the logistics.

  On the other hand, I was nervous as fuck.

  Not that I was crashing the party. On the drive back to the hotel last night, she’d asked me to come and watch the rehearsal. But I’d figured the invitation had more to do with her riding the orgasmic high, since my face had been buried between her thighs at the time.

  Once she was limp in my arms, I’d reminded her that my presence might be a distraction, and politely declined. She’d pouted in the most adorable way. But I was resolute. Steadfast.

  Until this morning when I saw her standing in front of the window in her pale pink leotard, framed by the New York skyline.

  No way I could miss this.

  Taryn heaved a sigh, a sure sign she’d forgiven me. The girl was putty in my hands.

  “Have to agree with you there. You are a dick.”

  Wait…what?

  My steps faltered, and Daryl nearly crashed into my back. “Huh?”

  “It’s true. You are a dick sometimes.” I grunted, and she laughed. “Promise to answer your phone from now on, and I’ll turn over the info.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled.

  A triumphant little hum and I could almost picture Taryn’s smug smile. And I didn’t even care.

  “The stage door is on the west side of the building. Salvadore, the head of security, is expecting you. I just texted him.”

  Resisting the urge to pump my fist in the air, I changed course yet again. “Thanks, T-Rex. I owe you one.”

  “You owe me more than one. And remember what you said about answering your phone!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. Got it.”

  Ending the call before she could make any more demands, I gave Daryl the side eye.

  “We’re in.” Surprise furrowed his brow, and I sighed, patting him on the back. “On days like this, it’s good to be king.”

  We followed Salvadore up a flight of stairs to the balcony.

  Peeling back a velvet curtain, he tipped his chin to the four seats inside the theater box. “Nobody will see you up here as long as you stay in the shadows. Try not to draw any attention to yourselves. Simon is really weird about privacy.”

  He darted a gaze to the stage, and I followed his line of sight to a man leaning against the piano. Dressed in dark jeans and a plain white T-shirt, he surveyed the dancers on the floor in various stages of stretching. He was young—late thirties—with sandy blond hair that grazed his chin.

  “Choreographer?” I asked, my lips twitching when Simon’s gaze lingered a little to long on Gelsey.

  “Artistic director,” Salvadore corrected, patting me on the back. “Better take a seat. I’ll be waiting at the bottom of the stairs when you’re finished.”

  I slipped him some cash as we shook hands. “Thanks, man.”

  Smiling, he trotted off, while I plopped into the seat beside Daryl. My spine went rail stiff when Simon glided over to Gelsey and crouched to eye level. She continued her preparation, her body moving in that way it did, like the performance had already begun. But she kept her gaze pinned to Simon’s, nodding from time to time at whatever he had to say.

  When he reached out and ran a hand down her arm, I couldn’t hide my scowl any longer. “Why the fuck is he touching her?” I hissed under my breath.

  The question was rhetorical, but for some reason Daryl thought I was talking to him. “It’s her first day. Maybe he’s trying to make her feel welcome.”

  Before I could banish him and his easygoing manner to the stairwell with Salvadore, voices floated up from below our box. Female voices. The odd shape of the theater and domed ceiling insured zero privacy. But with all the giggling, whoever was down there didn’t seem interested in discretion.

  “So, which one is she?” a nasally voice asked.

  When someone answered in Russian, I went still. Because I knew she was talking about Gelsey. And her tone held no warmth whatsoever.

  “English, Sasha,” yet another girl piped up.

  A snort. “You are the one forever claiming to understand, Mallory,” came a fourth voice in heavily accented Russian.

  The conversation lapsed between the two languages as the women traded friendly insults. I tried to keep up, but when I didn’t hear Gelsey’s name again, my focus returned to the stage. All the dancers were now on their feet, rushing to take their seats in the
audience.

  Except Gelsey.

  Back straight, she stood next to Simon, her hands clasped in front of her.

  “Where is Micha?” one of the Russian girls asked. Sasha, I think. “I do not see him.”

  “There,” replied Mallory. “Front row. I wonder why he’s not on stage.”

  Sure enough, Micha was slumped in the seat closest to the stairs, his head bowed.

  Was he injured? Was Gelsey?

  Conjuring up worst-case scenarios, I sat all the way up. Daryl lightly gripped my arm when I scooted forward. Instead of fighting his hold, I nodded and eased back while Simon grabbed a portable microphone.

  “Settle down, everyone,” he ordered, and the theater instantly fell silent. “One of our new apprentices is visiting today. Gelsey Howard.”

  He went on to list her accomplishments, but I didn’t hear a word, all my attention on my girl as she tried to maintain a nervous smile. She looked so small up there under the lights. But so fucking beautiful.

  “Before we get to our rehearsal,” Simon continued. “Gelsey has agreed to perform a free form ballet of her own creation to show off her range.”

  The small crowd buzzed as Simon walked over to what looked like a soundboard. While he was busy fiddling with the knobs, Gelsey’s gaze swept the theater. And I couldn’t help it. I leaned all the way in, willing her to find me. To see me.

  And she did.

  For the briefest moment our eyes locked, and it was like an electric pulse. A beat I felt down to my toes.

  I was so wrapped up, I didn’t hear the music until Gelsey started to move.

  “Blackbird.”

  The song that was playing the first time she’d ever danced for me. No longer constrained by a studio, she soared to new heights, using every inch of the stage to become the little bird.

  When it was over, an eerie quiet consumed the theater.

  One beat. Two.

  Gelsey held her position, eyes locked on mine. But with every passing second, she wilted just a little under the oppressive silence.