"I keep thinking that variation is going to get easier each time we perform it, but it's still kicking my ass after a week," Ollie groans shouldering his dance bag over his shoulder.
I laugh lightly, looking at him through the mirror as I run a brush through my hair, "At least we have a night off tomorrow?"
"Do we really though? We're supposed to go with Sascha to that fundraiser tomorrow." Ollie rolls his eyes. It's not very often that we get a night off, and even rarer when it's in New York.
"So we have to go and kiss the donors' asses for a few hours, you can still spend all day with Ryan."
He plops down into the chair next to me, "Sometimes, I really hate having a duet with you."
I grab the makeup removing wipes and start to carefully take the excessive makeup required for the performance off without irritating my skin. "Oh, don't even try telling me that you hate it, considering you were the one that signed us up for the audition anyway."
"Well, I didn't expect us to get it! I was hoping to spend tomorrow night with Ryan before we travel to Texas." Ollie started dating Ryan our second year at the American Ballet Company before we were promoted to principal dancers. They've been together for four years now, and I'm jealous of how they've stayed together that long, but I'd never let Ollie know that.
I had a few relationships since high school, the longest one lasting seven months, but we came to a mutual agreement that we shouldn't be together anymore because it was just too hard with all the traveling I was doing. Somehow Ollie and Ryan made it work.
"Too bad, if I have to go, then you have to go," I cheekily smile at him.
Ollie waits for me just like he does every night so he can walk me out to my car only in case I get mugged. It's sweet, but I already have mace attached to my keys just in case anything were to happen. However, tonight we get stopped by Sascha, the artistic director of the company, on our way out.
He's a cruel man, and I'm taken aback when he smiles brightly at us. It takes me a moment to realize this is something he only does when investors and donors are around, and I immediately smile, trying not to let how tired I am slip through. "I'm sure you already saw their performance, but these are two of our principal dancers and our lead soloists from tonight's performance."
My gaze moves towards the man that Sascha is gesturing to, and I feel as if the air in my lungs has been knocked out. His blue eyes are glittering with amusement, and even Ollie has fallen quiet from his complaining about tomorrow night. His dark hair is neater than it once was, his face is more prominent and matured, but my eyes get stuck on the full lips I used to know like the back of my hand. Seven years has been good to him.
"Mr. Benson? Did you hear what I said?" Sascha repeats, and I blink coming to my senses, feeling my cheeks flush when Hayes quirks his mouth into the old familiar smirk.
"I'm sorry, but may I have a moment with Ms. Montgomery?" His voice is velvet smooth, and I involuntarily flinch.
Ollie's hand rests on my shoulder as Sascha looks at me in confusion. "I'm afraid that Ms. Montgomery and Mr. Grant are on their way out, but they both will be at the fundraiser tomorrow if you wish to speak to them there."
If Hayes is at all phased by Sascha making him wait to talk to me, he doesn't show it. Instead, he re-buttons the front of his black suit that matches the darkness of his hair following after Sascha as he talks a mile a minute quickly explaining the company, and is undoubtedly boring Hayes out of his mind.
"What is he doing here?" Ollie questions and I struggle to regain my breath so I can speak.
I glance over my shoulder, catching the back of his head before he turns down a hallway, "I'm not sure."
"So, you didn't know he was coming?"
Shaking my head, I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "I haven't seen Hayes since I left him at the airport."
"Damn, he got better looking though," Ollie teases, and I grin at him.
"You're not wrong about that."
I didn't regret leaving Hermon, but I did regret how things ended with Hayes. I didn't let myself think about him often, but it's kind of hard when he's continually on the cover of business magazines, and even the Daily News has written about him a few times.
Looping my arm with Ollie's, I pull him toward the stairs we take to get to the parking garage. "So what are you doing tonight? You could always come and join game night with Ryan and me," Ollie offers, and I smile gratefully.
"Thanks, but I think I'm going to a meeting tonight."
Ollie's head swivels to look at me, "Are you okay?"
I intertwine our hands. "Yeah, I'm just trying to process him being here. I guess that I'd rather do it the right way, instead of doing something stupid like going and getting high."
*********
The meeting did help satiate my anxious urges, but I'd be lying if I wasn't nervous as hell to see Hayes again tonight. If it were up to me, I wouldn't be here at all. But then I'd be risking Sascha's wrath, and I don't feel like having rehearsal be extended just because I decided to skip in hopes of avoiding Hayes.
I'm sipping a flute of water while trying to pretend to be remotely interested in the conversation I've having with the son of one of our wealthiest investors. Right now, my goal is not to call him out on the fact that his gaze keeps slipping from my face to where my grey sheath dress hugs my body nicely. He's not even trying to be subtle about it.
Sometime during this seemingly never-ending conversation that's mostly about his accomplishments, I set the flute on the table behind me without him noticing.
"So then I had to decide what-"
I resist the urge to pull my hair out and instead smile sweetly, "Would you mind going to get me another water quick?"
The man smiles back, "I'll be right back; don't go anywhere."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
He steps away, and I relax, picking my water off the table behind me, chuckling when I see that it's half full still.
"That looked extremely painful; I'm surprised you even lasted that long."
The water that I'd been taking a drink of catches in my throat and I choke as it goes down the wrong pipe. A hand rubs my back as I cough violently, feeling my eyes water.
"Are you okay?" Hayes asks once I stop sputtering like a fish.
"Yeah, I'm good," I croak, finding it immensely hard to make words come out.
Thanks to my coughing fit, strands of my caramel-colored hair have fallen out of my braid and are now framing my face. "How've you been?" Hayes asks, flicking his eyes over me, and my cheeks flush slightly at the attention. I feel like I'm back in high school.
"Good, Ollie and I got promoted four years ago to principal dancers, uh we've done a lot of traveling for our performances-"
Hayes cuts me off by chuckling softly, "Sephine, I didn't ask about your job. I asked how you've been."
"Oh, uh, I have a fish..." I start to say, but then I realize I can't even say that, "I guess I had a fish, he kind of died?"
"What?"
Literally, everything that's coming out of my mouth right now is word vomit because I have no idea what I'm supposed to say to him. "See, before we went on tour, I got this fish because fish are easy to take care of, right? I paid my neighbor's son to go and feed the fish once a day while I was gone. I swear to god that the fish was alive when I ran by my apartment before the performance yesterday, but when I got back, the fish was just floating there dead. So now I don't have a fish."
Hayes's rumbling laugh is attracting the attention of people around us, "Did the fish have a name?"
I laugh with him, nodding my head, "Marlin."
"That's the greatest thing I've ever heard."
"I'm very creative if you weren't aware of that," I joke, and he smiles easily.
"So, you're happy?" He asks, and I subtly wipe my clammy hands on the grey material of my dress.
I guess you could say that I'm happy because I have everything I've worked so hard for, yet I still have regrets. But that doesn't mean I'm going to tell Hayes that. "Other than my fish dying, yeah, I'm happy."
Hayes is wearing a navy suit that only works in his favor by making his tanned skin stand out even more with his blue eyes. He looks good, and I'm getting more than one glare right now by talking to him. "Good, that's all I ever wanted."
I don't have a chance to ask if he's happy before the man from earlier approaches us with two flukes filled with champagne, and I internally groan. "Shit, he's back," I mumble under my breath.
"What's his name?" Hayes asks quietly, but I have no idea, considering I completely tuned the guy out.
He looks Hayes over before handing me the glass before I can even say that I don't drink or even a thank you, Hayes has already taken the glass from my hand, setting it on the tray of another server.
"What the hell, man?" The guy asks Hayes, and Hayes straightens his back, standing up tall. It's clear who the winner will be in this little pissing spat before it even starts.
"She doesn't drink, which is something you might know if you'd stopped talking about yourself for a few seconds." I have to admit that I'm shocked he said it, and so is the other guy.
"Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but you're out of line. I was with her first, so you need to back off."
I have to give him credit for standing up to Hayes, who is now intimidating without a smile because not many people would do that.
I'm glad Hayes had taken the drink from my hand because it would have fallen to the marble floor, and shattered into a million pieces when Hayes slides his arm around me to rest on the side of my hip.
"I think you need to excuse yourself before you say something you might regret. You weren't with her first, considering Sephine's my girlfriend." This feels too painfully familiar, and I try to move away from him, but his grip is ironclad. He leans down to whisper in my ear. "Just go along with it."
Stupidly I do; I relax into his touch and move closer so I can gently rest my hand on his chest to sell it. The man who's name I still don't know just looks at me in disgust, "Well there goes forty minutes of my life I'll never get back."
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from retorting back at him because as much as I want to say something back, I know it's in everyone's best interest if I don't.
Hayes is tense, and I honestly have no idea what he's planning on saying next, but I know it's not something that should be said. I pinch him sharply, and his annoyed face turns to look at me, and I shake my head silently, telling him 'no.'
The man leaves, and the second he's out of sight, I immediately slide out of Hayes's grip. "What were you thinking?"
His nostrils flare with frustration, "I'm sorry, but did you want me to leave you with that asshole?"
"You don't get to do that anymore. It's not your place." And it's not. I appreciate him saying something because the guy was out of line, but we're not in high school anymore.
His face hardens, and I feel a tug of guilt pull at my heart, "You're right. I'm sorry." He was just trying to help. "I guess I just don't understand why you just let him treat you like that."
I pull my braid over my shoulder, "Because it's part of my job Hayes. No one wants a defiant ballerina that mouths off to investors. It's bad for business."
"I could easily buy his share of the company if he decided to pull his money out. You're still a human being."
"I'm here to be a friendly face for investors to relate to. If you'll excuse me, I should probably find that man and apologize to him." I start to walk past, but Hayes grabs my hand, keeping me in my place.
"You don't have to do that. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. If you want me to, I'll apologize." Hayes is staring at me, waiting for an answer, but all I can think about is how he automatically stepped in to try and protect me. I guess some people never change after all.
"Thanks, but it's probably best if you don't."
He looks at me carefully before checking his watch, "If you say so."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes, "Well, it's good seeing you again."
"Yeah, it is." I start to turn away, thinking the conversation is over, but Hayes isn't done, "Would you want to get dinner tomorrow?"
"What?"
"Would. You. Get. Dinner. With. Me. Tomorrow." He exaggerates the pauses between the words, but I didn't say what because I didn't hear him. I said what because it was the last thing I expected him to say.
"I have a performance."
"Great, I'll pick you up after." But I didn't even say yes?
I don't even have a chance to question him again before someone else grabs his attention, and Hayes is gone.