Chapter 6
Calum
Checking my watch, I consider leaving Emma’s office at the New York Ballet. I’m not accustomed to waiting for anybody, especially not for nearly fifteen minutes. I’m a firm believer that you teach people how to treat you.
Heaving myself up off the sleek leather couch, I glance around the well-appointed office. My movement alarms the little redheaded secretary, whose cheeks flame bright red as I approach her in the doorway.
She squeaks out. “Mr. Fordham, I’m sure if you wait for another minute or two—“
I brush right past her, in no mood for her attempts to stall me. “Move.”
She stares after me for a moment, then hurries to catch up with me. “I just know that Mrs. Rosenburg is tied up with—“
A door down the hall in flung open with full force, several people spilling out of it all at once. I see Emma first, looking chic as ever in her dark blue dress. Beside her are her fellow board members, Chase and Mark.
In front of all of them is Honor, bursting out of the room like a bullet leaving a gun. She holds her dark head high but she’s clearly sobbing, all but running down the hallway.
Seeing her gives me pause. It slows my steps.
What on earth is the prima ballerina doing running away in such hysterics?
Mark scurries after her, calling her name. “Honor—“
Chase notices me standing only twenty feet to his right. He snakes out a hand and catches Emma, jerking his head toward me. She looks at me, clearing her throat in a way that suggests she is embarrassed.
It’s hard to tell with Emma though, as usual. Some combination of years of ballet training and Botox has wiped all expression from her face.
She flattens her hands against her fitted skirt and tucks a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Calum. I’m sorry, I was obviously…” She looks down the hall after Honor, taking a deep breath. “We asked you to come in for a reason, as you can see.”
I don’t know what reaction she’s looking for, so I play my cards close to my chest. I shrug, endeavoring to keep my expression neutral. “I’m going to need some kind of explanation.”
She and Chase walk down the hall toward me. I give them a look, folding my arms across my chest. Emma flashes me what passes for a smile and ushers me back to her office.
“Please,” she says. “Discretion is very important at this stage.”
Turning around and shaking my head, I allow myself to be herded back into her office. She slinks behind the sleek metal desk; Chase plops down his considerable weight in a chair opposite. I remain standing, staring at them both. “What’s going on?”
Chase purses his lips, glancing at Emma. “We found out that Honor and Mikhail are having an affair.” He gives me a flat look. “Not even really trying to keep it secret, either.”
My eyebrows rise. My mouth contorts. “Wait, she’s fucking him? Willingly?” I scoff disbelievingly. “He’s so old!”
Emma and Chase exchange a look. Emma leans her elbows on her desk, giving a dour look. “Yes. Not only are they having an affair, but Honor says that she’s pregnant with his child. The whole situation is horribly messy.”
Chase grunts. “She told an entire class of ballet students all the sordid details too. Honor really made sure that there was no way to walk the information back.”
Emma sighs, giving her head a tiny shake.
“What’s going to happen to her?” I ask, frowning. Inside, I’m a mass of venomous snakes and white hot anger. But I keep a tight leash on it for now; this isn’t the time or the place to vent my fury.
Emma frowns. Or at least I think she tries to. With all her facial fillers, I feel like I can’t really tell.
“She and Mikhail are both fired. That’s what has to happen here. I see no other choice.”
I wonder to myself if this is the break that I needed to get Honor to take me as a lover. I’ve lusted after her for years, having known her for well over a decade.
“We thought that since you and Honor danced together at ballet academy, you might like to weigh in on how we should go about replacing Honor,” Chase says.
I cock a brow. “Don’t you have two or three ballerinas ready and more than willing to step into her place?”
Emma lays her hands flat on the desk. “There is no obvious replacement. We assumed we had two more years to find someone with that je ne sais pas.”
Chase looks at his wristwatch. “You’d better tell him the other problem too, Emma.”
I huff a laugh. “Other than not having a star to lead your spring productions?”
Emma’s mouth twists. “We are also down a stage manager.”
My eyes narrow. “I’m sure that someone could be lured away if the money is right. I’ve been pushing for someone to replace Mikhail for a year now.” I pause, tilting my head. “What about Stein? He seemed less than enthused about the Royal Ballet when I talked to him last year.”
“He was already scooped up by the Paris Ballet,” Chase sighs.
I lean forward. “You have tried whoever Stein replaced at the Paris Ballet, then? Who is it, Berger?”
“We were hoping that we would pull in someone closer to hand, actually.” Emma gives a rueful little smile. “I know that it’s been five years since you last worked as a stage manager—“
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re kidding. Are you joking?” I give a startled chuckle. “You just finished telling me that you don’t have any stars and you are essentially rudderless without Mikhail. Which, by the way, I specifically warned you both about.”
I fold my hands against my stomach and sit back, angry that they would even bother to ask me.
“Look, Calum—“ Chase begins.
I shake my head. “After I hurt myself dancing, I moved on with my life. I started Indica Tech. I started Indica Charity. The last three years alone, I’ve been insanely productive.”
“We would donate your salary to your charity, obviously,” Emma says.
“And a portion of the ticket sales as well,” Chase says. He shoots Emma a glare.
I level them both with a glare. “You would be doing my charity a disservice, because my salary here would be just a fraction of what I normally earn.”
Emma holds up a hand. “When you were a dancer here, didn’t you have to pull out of a show at the end?”
I squint at her. “I was hurt doing a production of Sleeping Beauty, if that’s what you mean.”
She bobs her head. “And you never got to stage manage a production of Sleeping Beauty, as far as I am aware.”
“No.” I lean forward again, engaged. “Is that what you are offering as bait? The lure of doing something new?”
Chase smirks. “Yes. We would need you for Sleeping Beauty and Giselle, two of the hardest ballets to dance or direct. And not that it matters, but there would also be some other smaller showcases, I imagine.”
I sit back, pushing my cheek out with my tongue. None of what they are saying moves me in the least. But a lightbulb does go off in the back of my head. “If I took the position, you would have to inform the other patrons of the transition, wouldn’t you?”
Emma and Chase share a glance. Emma clears her throat. “I suppose.”
I smile a little. “I’m interested in doing business with one of your donors. Jack Schwartz.”
Chase raises his eyebrows. “We could… maybe notify all the patrons? I mean, it wouldn’t be very hard to put together some sort of elegant engraved card or something.”
“It would have to highlight how much I’ve given over the last few years and how grateful the company is for my continued good works.”
“Of course,” Emma says. “We’ll state that we are very grateful to you.”
I purse my lips. “I think that someone in my office will gladly put together a thoughtful reflection on my career and more importantly, on my charitable nature.”
There is silence just then as Emma and Chase look at each other. It goes on for a little too long.
I drum my fingers on the table, trying not to be offended. “I need you two to agree that I’m known for my good works above all else.”
“Of course,” Emma says, eager to please me.
I stare her down until she flushes a little.
“Well?” Chase prompts. “Will you do it?”
My mouth flattens. I raise a finger. “I’ll think about it,” I allow. “And I do mean think. I have a lot to consider.”
Emma looks vaguely pleased. “We would so appreciate it, Calum.”
“We’ll see,” I say, leaning back and shrugging a shoulder. “But regardless of whether or not I take the job, I need something from you.”
Chase rubs his hands together, smiling. “What’s that?”
“Let go of all your dancers that are not ready to move up and take the spotlight.” I stand, casting a serious gaze at them both. “Anybody that isn’t hungry for it? Demote them to the corps or fire them. Clear the way for thirty or forty brand new dancers to step forward.”
“Oh, Calum.” Emma says. “I don’t know…”
“It’s not a request. I’ll make the money you receive from my charity contingent upon that condition.”
I suck in a breath, looking at my watch. When I look back up, they both have sour expressions on their faces. “If that’s all, I have a thousand things to do.”
Emma stands up, graceful as ever. “I’ll walk you out, Calum.”
“No need. You two should be figuring out how to tell those dancers that they are fired.”
With that pronouncement, I head out of the office, closing the button on my jacket as I go.
My emotions swirl in the air around me, concussing me. But I can see one thing very clearly.
Me taking a bow as the audience raves, the applause so thunderous that I can’t hear a single voice in the back of my head.
My lips curve as I head out the front door of the building.