Dance For Me (Strip in the City, Book 2)

29 • Hot Confrontation

With a minute to spare, I sprinted into the rehearsal room, breathless, as I closed the door behind me. I was technically on time, but being on time was late, according to the ballet mistress, and she eyed me with a warning glance that promised a conversation would be coming later.

Why did I think I could have it all? Happiness and this?

A better question was, what did I really want?

Every eye in the room trained on me as I made my way to the line, taking my place beside Kennedy, who looked like she'd been crying all night.

"Where were you?" Kennedy said under her breath. "I was about to call the police and report a missing person!"

"Long story," I replied as we started moving through our warm-ups. Needing to change the subject, I cast her a sidelong glance as we leaped across the floor, arms held out in a perfect line. I caught her staring at her fiance in the mirror like she hadn't quite forgiven him for something.

I wanted to ask if everything was okay, but now really wasn't the time. I had to focus and push through the pain. If I was good enough and tried hard enough, I could have everything I wanted. I wasn't ready to give up ballet or strip dancing or Dominick. I just had to be better. I just had to try harder.

Somehow, I made it through one of the most grueling rehearsals of my life, only to be pulled aside afterward by Celeste and told to meet her in her office. Kennedy gave me an apologetic look and a hug before I made my way down the long hall, trying not to show any fear on my face.

Sitting right outside her door was the chair no one sat in. No one, except Dominick DuBois.

I wished I was free like him to not have to put on a show for everyone. To be what everyone needed me to be. I wished I could walk in with a scowl on my face and tell her that I was going through a lot and that I wished she would show me an ounce of kindness after dancing here for as long as I had, but that wasn't possible. If I was too hard to deal with, hundreds of girls were waiting to take my place. 

It struck me then that this wasn't okay. That I shouldn't feel like this at my job. But was helpless to do anything about it.

I knocked twice, and Celeste called out, "Come in!"

With the practiced grace of a ballerina, I put a serene look on my face and entered the room, closing the door soundlessly behind me.

The elderly ballet mistress slid a piece of paper across her desk, unsmiling. "Sign at the bottom," was all she said.

Quickly, I glanced over the form that she wanted me to sign and realized it was an official warning. My lips moved as I read each word, taking in only the necessary lines.

Last and only warning. Next infraction will resort in removal of all duties as a soloist. Corps du ballet membership for two years before consideration for reinstatement. If talent and availability align.

I glanced up at Celeste with my breath in my throat. Holding her unreadable gaze. "Do you have a comment, Tan?" she asked dryly.

I was a little girl again, being told I needed to stand up straighter. Wanting so badly to be what she wanted me to be.

"Why didn't you make me a principal?" I asked before I realized the words were out of my mouth. "You said I had the job."

I wanted to take them back, but it was too late. They were said, and nothing I could do would change that.

Celeste reclined back in her chair and folded her arms across her stomach. "I don't see why that has anything to do with you being late."

I almost choked on my disbelief. If I had made principal, I never would've second guessed my entire life. I never would have gone with Maren to the strip bar. I never would've tried to hook up with a stripper.

My breath caught in my chest. If I'd made principal, I never would have seen Dominick again.

For whatever reason, thinking about him fueled me with courage.

"It has everything to do with me showing up one minute before I needed to be at rehearsal," I said through my teeth. Unspoken emotion pouring out of me. I still couldn't believe I was standing up for myself. But here I was, doing just that.

Celeste just shrugged. "I changed my mind."

I tried to let her words sink in, but my body was rejecting them. It didn't make sense. She'd had years to form an opinion about me. Why change her mind now?

My gaze lifted to the framed pictures behind her. The men and women who had danced the principal role at Liberty Ballet during her tenure. For the longest time, I'd dreamed of taking a picture with Celeste after my first performance. Seeing myself up on her wall of stars. But now, it was clear she didn't want me up there. And no matter how hard I worked, nothing would change. I'd risen to the top of my career even though she wouldn't say it.

"Technically, you're there," Celeste continued. "You move beautifully. But, something has been missing in your performance. Something that I couldn't put my finger on." She shrugged. "I thought the tease might help you step up your game and push you to a new level of greatness, but you've proven that you fall apart at the first sign of trouble, and principals need to be tougher than that."

This had all been a test? I curled my fingers into my palms. A test that I...failed.

The words were flowing out of me now. "Maybe I started falling apart because of this game you put me through. Having a job ripped away and given to someone else without so much as an explanation."

The ballet mistress just shook her head. "True principals remain mentally tough, no matter what. It's clear that you aren't cut out for the job." The words landed like a sucker punch to the gut, knocking all the air out of me. She leaned forward and set a pen atop the paper, staring over the top of her glasses with an appraising look. "Now sign the warning and get out before I change my mind again."

No, I thought. I won't sign your warning. I'm done with this bullshit. With being manipulated and used. She saw me as a set of arms and legs, not a person.

Unlike Blanche. Who barely knew me but trusted me so much. And that trust allowed me to throw myself into the routines with my whole heart.

As much as I wanted to tell Celeste to shove that warning up her ass, I picked up the pen and put my name on the line.

Because no matter how painful this job was, it was part of who I was. I didn't know how to be anything else except this. And even though I loved choreographing for Blanche and dancing on stage with Romeo, that wasn't a career I could tell my parents about or support myself with. It was just something that made me happy.

After I left Celeste's office, I texted the guys to let them know I wasn't making it to rehearsal today. I was too tired. Too hurt. Too exhausted.

As much as I loved working with them and the happiness it brought me, I couldn't do it today.

Kennedy sat with me inside the studio for a long time, well after her fiance left, and we reminisced about being young and full of hope. Talking about how things had changed and how we'd changed too.

When I finally dragged myself out of the dance studio, dressed in a baseball hat, joggers, and dark sunglasses, I found a motorcycle idling out front.

"You need a ride?" a familiar deep voice called out.

A grin lifted one corner of my mouth despite the fact that my world was falling apart. This man showed up for me even when I couldn't for him and the club. When I was at my lowest and had nothing to give tonight, he somehow knew I needed him.

He was showing up for me.