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Entangled Hearts

Page 6

by Anastasia Sweet


  Aviana nods again, looking at Ciana and then back out on the floor. “In that case, silver’s the right color today,” she smiles.

  “I think so too,” Ciana says, and they applaud then as the dancers return to the floor.

  *

  Weldon spends a lot of time catching up with his ballet dancer friend Shen. He’s planning his wedding with Cait and looking forward to inviting everyone out to Florida soon.

  “Have you guys set a date yet?” Weldon asks, not for the first time. They’re on the flight to Atlanta, the first few stops successfully behind them.

  “Oh my God, not you too,” Shen groans. “Let me know when you and my mother want to start trading off.”

  “Come on, we’ve all got to plan our lives, here. You should know, you’re the one trying to start a new program out west.”

  “Exactly,” Shen says. “Cut a guy some slack over here.”

  “Ah, man, you know we’re all just happy for you, right? We just need to know when to show up.”

  “As soon as we know, you’ll know, I swear.” Shen waves for the flight attendant and a soda refill. “On that subject, though, how’s things with you and Avia?”

  “So good, Shen. She’s amazing. You should meet her. She’s going to be there for the Boston show, hopefully it work out we can all go for dinner or something before we fly out again.”

  “Definitely.” He looks at Weldon a little more closely and then elbows Weldon. “And when are you looking to set a date, then?”

  Weldon sputters mid-sip on his soda. “Oh, so it’s like that is it?”

  “I don’t know, man you tell me. You’ve barely stopped talking about her since Christmas.”

  “Yes, things are really good. And I’ve...I’ve thought about it,” he admits. “More than once.”

  Shen stops again and looks back at Weldon. “Yes? So...it really is like that, then.”

  Weldon nods. “Yes, I think it might be.”

  “So...what are you waiting for, then?”

  Weldon looks at Shen and then stares back at the seat in front of him. Truthfully, he doesn’t have an answer. “I’m not sure. I guess I’m waiting for the right time.”

  “Will you know when that happens?”

  He nods, this time very sure of himself. “Yes. I think I will.”

  *

  In May, not long after the tour ends, Weldon and Ciana get word they’re going to be recognized for their achievements. Preparations are underway for a ceremony in August.

  Ciana’s done the mental math and realized she’ll be about a month into her new program by then, but should be able to make it work. And in any case, this really isn’t something she can turn down - it’s an incredible honor, one that she’s having trouble fathoming even as she talks it out with Weldon.

  “What do you think it really means, anyway?” Weldon asks her on the phone. But she can tell he’s not really asking though, she can hear in his voice he’s ramping up to find a joke about it, make light of the whole situation. He never did need the accolades or awards. At least that hasn’t changed, she thinks, gladly. “Are we knights, now? Do we get our own dukedom and a castle?”

  “I think it’s duchy, not dukedom.” She chuckles in spite of herself, glancing through the embossed letter and notices of procedure. “Besides, we’re not getting either of those things. We’re not knights. We get a special award.”

  “Oh, well we’ve been doing that for years already, accepting awards. We’ll be pros.”

  “Weldon?”

  “Yes?”

  “We’re the only ballroom dancers on this list. Actually we’re the only dancers at all, I think.”

  “Yes, I saw that too. I wish Shen’s name was on there, he deserves it just as much. And the others, too.”

  “We’ll throw a big party after, invite them and share it with them.”

  “I know, we could use a reason to get the gang back together.” And it’s true, not all of them were in the mix this year.

  She can hear cooking noises in the background. She wonders what he’s making, if he’s making it for one or for more. “Will you bring Aviana?” Her voice softens. She glances around her own quiet apartment, realizing fleetingly she has no idea what she has to eat.

  “Yes,” he answers gently, and she can hear the smile in his voice. “I haven’t told her yet though. She just got back from a school trip this afternoon, keeping thirty twelve year olds from escaping into Atlanta forever.”

  “Oh man. I wonder how many little trysts and heartbreaks she had to manage.”

  “God, I hope none for her sake. Anyway I told her I’d have dinner ready once she got out of her bubble bath and remembered what it’s like to not have to wrangle twelve and thirteen-year-olds.”

  “You’re a good man, Weldon Fensworth.”

  “So people keep telling me,” he brushes her off. In the background then there’s the sound of footsteps and a door closing. “One sec, Cia?”

  “Sure.” While he greets his dinner guest she steps over to the kitchen, opening the cupboard with the glasses. She pulls the stoppered bottle of Chardonnay out of the fridge just as Weldon comes back.

  “Aviana’s here now, Cia, I’m going to sign off. We’ll figure out all the travel and stuff tomorrow, yes?”

  “You bet. You’d better dust off that tux.”

  “I’ll have to find it first. Take care, sweetheart.”

  “You too.”

  Ciana puts the phone down on the counter and trades it for the wine, pouring herself half a glass while surveying the lingering unpacked boxes in one corner. The laptop and papers she knows need some attention are there, standing stacked on one of the counter stools.

  She takes another sip of wine and brings the glass and her phone back to the couch, dialing her mother’s number with a smile on her face.

  CHAPTER SIX

  In July Ciana finally starts her new program, with a mix of equal parts exhilaration and trepidation. She’s excited to be attending classes, especially in person rather than online like she did for most of her undergraduate degree. She’s also a little intimidated by how young so many of the other students seem, and so prepared and eager. She wonders how many of them jumped straight from undergrad right into their MBA, how many of them have come with practical experience from the real world - some of them must have, she thinks, given the rigorous application process all of them went through.

  They’re told once again in their first week about how the program is designed to incorporate theoretical learning with practical engagement on cases and examples from the world of business. They’re expected to bring all parts of their minds to their work, and encouraged to think about the final independent project they’ll be working on by the end of the two year program.

  There are a few students who recognize and know her from ballroom dance fame. Many others seem oblivious except for trying to figure out who their biggest competition will be in the program, which she’s completely fine with. Then after the first week they’re all just students, with reading lists and deadlines.

  Ciana reworks her dancing schedule with Weldon to accommodate her course work, trimming their weekly practice sessions to once a week instead of twice, which she can tell he’s a bit bummed about but that he also understands. Estabella and Mervin know all about her new commitments after hearing her updates for the last several months. They reassure her they’re happy to have her contribute to the creative team when she’s able, but only then - her studies are more important right now, they insist gladly.

  At the end of the second week of the program the department holds a welcome reception for the entire program - an opportunity for the new MBA students to get to know those starting their second year of the program a bit better, and to meet some of the faculty. There’s a bar and a few nibbles, and seems like an annual event that no one wants to turn down - at least amongst the keen students. Two of the others in her cohort who she’s gotten to know a bit better in seminars so far, Tara and Mol
ly, join forces with her and they agree to learn as much as possible. Tara also seems pretty keen on discovering who amongst their classmates is the most eligible to date, which charms Ciana and almost makes her wish she was twenty-three again. Molly is a little older, having spent time on a Master’s in Economics and a year of volunteering abroad before returning to her studies.

  Between the students, the full-time professors, and the part-time lecturers, there are so many people to talk to. Ciana starts out grouped with a few of the others in her cohort, who press some of the second-years for details about just how grueling the final projects really are. Eventually she drifts off and strikes up conversations on her own, learning more from some of the other professors about what she can expect.

  Ciana’s in the middle of tapping out a few one-handed notes onto her phone - after a glass of wine and not enough food she already doesn’t trust herself to remember everything she’s learned - when she finally steps farther off to the side and discards her nearly empty glass so she can have both hands free. A few minutes later when she’s slipping her phone back into her pocket, looking around to see if she can locate any of the other lecturers she wanted to talk to, she starts walking back towards the bar and bumps directly into someone walking into the room.

  “Oh I’m so sorry!” she apologizes immediately, looking the man up and down, grateful she wasn’t holding something she would have spilled on him. He’s wearing a very nice suit, and a very nice tie - as are most of the men in the room, really, but there’s something about the way he wears his that makes her admire it a bit more.

  “It’s my fault,” he says, “I should learn to look where I’m going.” He smiles then, and Ciana’s momentarily stalled, smiling back at him. He’s polite with her but already not nearly as formal as most of the other lecturers she’s spoken to this evening. Or at least, she’s assuming he’s on the instructor side of the equation here. If she were to guess she’d say he was a couple of years older than her. “Landon Masson,” he says, holding out his hand in introduction.

  “Ciana Rollins,” she replies, shaking his hand as offered. “I’m new this year, I should definitely know better than to start walking over people already.”

  “And I should know better than to come to these things an hour late,” he says. “The least I can do is buy you a drink?” He holds out a hand inviting her to step ahead of him, in the path she was already headed.

  “It’s an open bar, but thank you, that would be lovely.”

  They gather their drinks and continue their conversation safely away from the footpaths of others.

  “So, what do you teach?” she asks, continuing the line of questions she’d already begun with the other instructors here. He pauses momentarily at the pre-emptive question and she shrugs. “I took a guess that you’re among the lecturers here and not one of the students.”

  “You’re right,” he smiles. “I’m on that side of the classroom. But actually I’m not teaching quite as much right now, at the moment I help out by leading a few of the second year case study seminars, and I’m senior reviewer on a few of the undergraduate projects.”

  “That sounds like a lot more than ‘helping out’, to me,” she observes. “But I’m guessing you keep busy well enough outside of the faculty here?”

  “You could say that,” he chuckles now. “I work with Atkinson, we specialize in consulting with Fortune 500 companies to refine their long term strategy and operate more efficiently.”

  Ciana lifts her eyebrows just slightly. She’s heard of the company, seen their big offices. in New York. She’s pretty sure they have offices in Sydney and even Morsely, as well. “Oh wow, yes, that would definitely keep you busy,” she agrees. “You must travel quite a lot in your role.”

  “I do - but believe me it’s not as-”

  “-glamorous as it seems,” she finishes, nodding. “I know, I hear you.”

  He smiles again, looking at her more closely, as though considering which question to ask her next. “Enough about me, though, you must be new this year, which means I should get to know you a bit better. What will you be teaching?”

  She sputters slightly in the middle of her sip, grateful at least that she hasn’t spilled on herself - or him, after practically trampling him earlier. “Oh, no, I’m not faculty,” she says. “I’m in the new MBA cohort this year, just started.”

  “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to assume.”

  “That’s quite alright,” she says, “I’m flattered. I know I'm a year or two older than some of the others. I took a bit longer to finish my degree what with-.”

  “Cia!” She’s interrupted just then by Molly, speaking about as urgently as she can while still keeping her voice at normal indoor register.

  Ciana nods to Landon and then turns slightly aside to talk to Molly. “What’s going on?”

  “I need your help with Tara, I think she had too much wine too quickly and she's starting to come on a little strong with the guys. I'm pretty sure she's half a glass away from making a fool of herself in front of the department chair.”

  Ciana glances over across the room and determines that Molly is one hundred percent correct in her estimation.

  “I'm so sorry,” she says, turning back to Landon. “I need to find one of my friends.”

  He's already reaching to hand her his card. “Please keep in touch,” he offers. “If I can offer any advice on the program or anything else let me know.”

  “I will do that, thank you.”

  And then Molly diverts her and she spends the rest of the reception caught up with her and Tara’s antics.

  *

  The ceremony for their award is grand, even measured against some of the soirees they’ve been invited to over the years. It’s not the first time they’ve been this dressed up, nor the kind of accolade they’ve ever expected, certainly. Ciana brings her mother and sister as her guests, Weldon brings both of his parents as well as Aviana. As the event continues Ciana thinks she’s enjoying watching them enjoy the event, more than receiving the honor herself.

  There’s a series of photos taken, both the whole group of recipients. This part is more familiar to both of them - photos long ago became part of their routine - and Ciana finds herself enjoying it and feeling more at home.

  They spill out into a large reception room, filled with people and servers. After a little while Ciana loses track of her mother and Joslyn, guessing they’ve gone off in search of more personal meet-and-greets with some of the other high-profile guests here. And truly, she can’t blame them.

  Weldon and Aviana wind their way back towards Ciana after a few minutes, just as she’s starting to search for a drink. He’s managed to lose his parents in the crowd as well, she notices.

  “I changed my mind, we should have brought the medals and trophies with us,” Weldon says as they join her again.

  “Did you talk to the cancer researcher guy?”

  “Yes. He’s so friendly and calm, too. I was about to ask him what his secret is but then the climate researcher lady came over and interrupted. I sort of wish I’d taken a few science classes before this. I am under prepared to talk to this many smart people.”

  “I did offer to lend him some of the kids’ textbooks,” Aviana jokes. “Besides, you are not the only athletes or artists here,” she points out for Weldon’s benefit this time. “There is more to life than amazing, life-saving, world-changing, award-winning science,” she says, ribbing him further.

  She’s wearing a gorgeous dress and her hair’s pulled back in a loose chignon that must have taken quite a lot of time to look so effortless. Ciana thinks she looks beautiful, and seems to be doing a good job at keeping up, for not having been to as many events like this before. She bets she’ll find a way to work this experience into one of her social studies lessons next year. Still, Ciana can tell she’s fidgeting a bit with the clutch in her hands.

  A uniformed server walks by with a tray of flutes and Weldon reaches for the glasses, passing
one to Aviana next to him, and one to Ciana before grabbing one for himself. “I think my parents are best friends with Roselyn’s parents now, they’re still talking. Where are Nichole and Joslyn?”

  She nods to the far end of the room. “Over there.”

  “I’ll go check up.” He kisses Aviana on the cheek and takes his leave, making his way gradually through the crowded room.

  Ciana smiles at Aviana, and they clink glasses. She takes a sip and then quickly follows with another. She’s glad to have a moment to pause for a moment, although she wonders when someone will come to interrupt them next and chat. It’s enough to leave her keeping a half-smile on her face just in case.

  “Are you having a good time?” Ciana asks. Aviana seems more quiet, now, in Weldon’s absence.

  Aviana nods, then has a sip from her glass as well. “I am. It’s a lot to take in all at once, but so amazing.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Ciana glances around the room again, underlining the question. “It’s sort of fun, though. It’s been a while since Weldon and I have been in the limelight like this together.”

  This seems like the wrong thing for her to have said, Ciana wonders all of a sudden. Aviana’s expression seems to drop a little.

  “I mean, you were there at Professional International Ballroom, of course,” Ciana continues. “So you know what those are like. Those are more the norm now that we don’t compete - but all the photos and attention and ceremony, that’s a bit different,” she says. “Weldon always liked the working part more than the attention part.”

  Aviana’s nodding. “Yes, I can tell. He’s said that to me too, but it’s different seeing him in action like that - both of you, really. You must have done so many events like this in your time.”

  Ciana nods too. “Some. We had quite a run there for a while,” she says, laughing gently. She takes a long drink from her glass, wondering if there’s something more and letting some silence fill in between them. Aviana’s looking at her like she’s about to ask or say something but hesitating.

 

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