Chapter 14
Fourteen
Tech week: the week leading up to the performance that contains the dress rehearsal as well as stage setup, lighting, sound, and other technical elements of a performance.
Rudy
Monday morning hit like an express train trying to make up time before the next station.
December was upon us, and the countdown was on for the upcoming performance.
The ballet school hummed with activity. The children were back at the elementary school after their Thanksgiving break, but the professional dancers were ramping up their preparations along with all the various committees covering costumes, sets, technical details, promotion, and more.
My mother also wasn’t immune to the chaos. Her hair was extra spiky and her manner decidedly frazzled as she worked through her inbox on her laptop at her desk before her weekly coffee date with Alexander’s mother.
“Are we ready for the reporter?” My mother looked up from her monitor to glance over at me. “What do you need from me for her visit?”
“All you’ll need to do is help me greet her.” I held up a folder full of papers. “I prepared information for her on the history of the ballet school, the theater, The Nutcracker itself, the relevant dancers, and our show times and prices.”
“Excellent work.” She gave a small sigh before returning her attention to her computer, only to swivel back my direction. “There’s a board meeting this evening.”
Luckily, I had another folder at the ready. “I have the minutes prepared and emailed to all our board members, including the most updated ticket numbers.”
“Well, that’s one less thing on my list.” She continued scrolling through her email, and it didn’t take long for her to groan again. “The set committee wants earlier access to the theater next week.”
“Already arranged that for them.” The historic theater across the street could be fussy about setup and teardown times, especially if they had other performances scheduled, but I’d sweet-talked my contact at the theater into access for next Tuesday and Wednesday prior to the dress rehearsal on Thursday.
“My reply email to the committee should be further down the discussion thread.”
“Ah. There it is.” Apparently reaching the end of her new messages, Mom snapped her laptop shut. “I suppose I might as well get ready for coffee since there’s not much for me to worry over.”
“That would be the entire point of my work here.” I raised my eyebrows at her. She was supposed to be relieved, not put out, and definitely not have a vague air of frustration.
“You’re such a blessing.” She scooted her chair closer so she could pat my cheek. “Helga on the board keeps making noises about staff expenses, but I couldn’t have done this last year without you.”
“It’s been my pleasure.” I smiled back at her. Making her day easier truly was rewarding, but her comments about funding made my back itch inside my sweater.
“And it’s good experience for when you get a real job,” Mom added breezily before standing and fetching her coat to go meet Elaine. She left the office with a lingering hint of the same lightly floral perfume she’d worn my whole life.
Real job. My mouth puckered from the sour taste of those words.
Mom was worried about the ballet school budget and my future, but her comments still stung.
This was a real job, one she had to admit I’d done rather well.
It might not be my forever job, and I might not have a prestigious title like my siblings, but I’d worked hard to ensure the school’s success.
This was more than a résumé builder for me.
Along with my irritation was a little fear. What would my next move be if the board didn’t want to keep funding my position? Remembering my joke to Alexander about being a house husband, I gave a barky laugh. I wish.
Almost as if I’d conjured him up like a spell, Alexander chose that moment to stride into the office and plunk a steaming coffee cup on my desk. He wore his heavy wool coat and gloves over warm-ups.
“What’s this?” I eyed the paper cup with no small amount of suspicion.
“A coffee. The overly sugary version you seem to prefer. And I managed to procure it without being spotted at the coffee shop by our mothers, so win.”
“Win,” I echoed before taking a sip. Sure enough, it was the same basic pumpkin spice latte he’d seen me with before, but I hadn’t realized he’d registered my order. “But why?”
“No ulterior motive.” Alexander held up his own steaming cup. “I wanted a tea to warm up, and I thought you might need a break as well. I poked my head in earlier to ask about that reporter visit, but you were deep in concentration.”
“It’s been a morning. A break is good.” I took another experimental sip, feeling topsy-turvy, like I’d taken one too many spins on the merry-go-round at the playground. Alexander Dasher was bringing me coffee. Me. Of all people.
“It’s coffee, not arsenic.” Alexander frowned as if he might yank it back from me.
“Sorry.” I offered him more of a real smile. “And thank you. I’m used to being the one doing the nice things for others, not the other way around.”
“Yes, well, you deserve them too.” Apparently satisfied with my thanks, Alexander leaned against my desk as if this were a regular occurrence.
It wouldn’t be though. He’d be gone by New Year’s, back to Seattle, no matter what friendship we’d developed in the meantime.
Something had changed since Friday, though, a certain softness about his expression as he studied me.
“You’re always fussing after me. It’s about time someone fussed after you. ”
“Thank you,” I said again instead of telling him all the other ways I’d like him to fuss. Friends. We were friends. He didn’t want to kiss again, and after his story of his doubly bad first times, I wasn’t going to beg for a repeat. I’d take the coffee and smile.
“Nervous about the reporter?” Alexander asked as he picked up the folder I’d labeled for her visit.
“Maybe a little.” It was easier to admit to that than to tell him my worries about my future. “She’ll be here around one.”
“Don’t be worried.” Alexander gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
A friendly touch that in no way should have made my stomach quiver.
“Tavio will charm the reporter enough for all of us, and Cheryl and I will give her some good rehearsal footage before she visits some of the children’s classes. ”
“You’re right.” I smiled up at him, but my acting chops weren’t quite as good as his, and he frowned again.
“You seem down.” He narrowed his gaze. “Do I need to let you win tonight?”
“No.” I gave a genuine grin at the reminder that we’d play again after rehearsal tonight. Maybe all we were destined for was friendship, but there was no reason not to enjoy our time together while we had it. My worries could wait.
“Alexander!” His mother swept into the office, followed by my mother. Each toted a coffee cup. Elaine set her cup on my mother’s desk so she could hug Alexander. “Margie and I couldn’t find a single seat at the coffee house, so we came back here for our chat.”
“You’re not usually in the office.” My mother studied Alexander with no small amount of curiosity. Her gaze flickered between his cup and the one on my desk, missing nothing. “Did you need something?”
“Just checking on the time for the reporter’s visit and bringing our favorite assistant some coffee.” He clapped me on the shoulder, already backing toward the doorway. “I should get ready for rehearsal. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Alexander is bringing you coffee these days?” My mother’s eyes were wide but not displeased.
“I didn’t know you two were friends.” Elaine leaned toward me, smile taking on a conspiratorial gleam. “Tell me everything.”
“We’re… That is…” I stumbled and bumbled through a few false starts before swallowing hard and muttering, “It’s just coffee.”
“Indeed.” Elaine turned back toward my mother, who had settled herself in her office chair. “Margie, I think you should come for Christmas Eve.”
“I can’t let you host again.” My mother gave a faint frown as Elaine took over one of the spare chairs.
“I insist.” She tapped the heel of her boot against the floor for emphasis, glancing over at me. “You too, Rudy.”
“Um. Okay.”
I had no idea why Elaine was so interested in my holiday plans.
I didn’t want to dwell on our mothers’ curiosity any more than I did on my earlier worries, so I threw myself back into work until it was time to meet with the TV reporter and her cameraperson.
Both women had smiles straight out of a dental ad and nearly identical blond hair, but the camerawoman had biceps that possibly rivaled Alexander’s muscle definition.
The reporter had worn a ballet-pink sweater set for the occasion and was full of all the right questions during the tour of the school.
Our tour ended with an introduction to Tavio and Irina and a demonstration from Cheryl and Alexander.
“Show your variation,” Tavio urged Alexander.
He nodded simply before striding to the center of the studio.
He usually wore fairly casual dance clothes for rehearsal, including an impressive rotation of colored T-shirts, but today, he’d gone for a more classic look with a fitted white T-shirt, black tights, and black ballet slippers.
He looked every inch the regal principal dancer as Tavio cued his music, right down to his haughty nod for the camera.
And then, he danced. Or perhaps, more accurately, he soared, spun, and utterly came alive in front of us.
The whole thing was over in a matter of moments, but it was more than enough to remind me of a few truths.
Alexander had the rarest of gifts. I’d been around dance my whole life and never seen anything quite like him.
That he was loaning his talents to Hollyberry for this production was incredible because he was meant for the grandest of stages.
Definitely not meant for me, a short, skinny nerd who’d stayed close to home his whole life. I needed to stop daydreaming about a repeat kiss because I might as well dream of waltzing with the sun. It wasn’t going to happen.
Later, as the reporter and her camerawoman packed up their things while chatting more with Tavio and Irina, Alexander strode over to me, only mildly sweaty after his show, but his swagger was in full force.
“Think your reporter was impressed?” he asked as if he already knew my reply.
“I’d hope so.” I chuckled, then gave him the praise he was so clearly angling for. “You’re magnificent. Your jumps were about as perfect as I’ve ever seen. I wish the fourth graders could have seen your hang time in the air as well.”
“Thank you.” He offered an arch smile before turning slightly more humble. “And thank you for not following the compliment with a question about my knee.”
“I trust you to know your body.” I was curious about how the rehab was coming, of course, and I made no secret of enjoying taking care of him.
Caretaking was different from hovering, though, and I knew Alexander well enough to know that he worried enough about his body for all of us.
If he felt ready to dance, then I’d trust him.
He had enough other people asking him pointed questions about his readiness and future, something I was well acquainted with.
I grinned at him. “I’m happy just to sit in awe of your talent. ”
“It’s nice to have someone who believes so thoroughly in me.” He quietly held my gaze, and something potent passed between us, not attraction, although that was ever-present on my side at least. But perhaps respect or a deepening of our friendship.
However, I had plenty of friends, and none of them made me tremble quite like Alexander. I’d never had this type of connection with anyone, and it was wonderful and terrible all at once.
“Alexander?” The reporter waved us over to where she stood by the door. “One last question?”
“Of course.”
Alexander walked away from me, and I watched him go. It was only a few feet, but it felt like miles, a deep ache opening in my chest. How was I going to cope when a few paces turned into a whole continent between us?