Chapter Seven Cord
Seven
Cord
I shove my phone back in my pocket and return my attention to the four men standing onstage with me, three of whom are giving me looks that I don’t like.
“Who ya texting, boss?” Noah, my dance captain and the closest thing I have to a best friend, nudges me with his elbow.
Josh waggles his thick black eyebrows up and down. “You’re smiling.”
“No, I’m not.” I purposefully turn my lips down.
“Has the day finally arrived?” Noah throws his arms wide, always the drama queen.
His golden brown skin shines with sweat under the stage lights.
This is just a rehearsal so there’s no need for him to be shirtless, but he takes every opportunity to show his eight-pack.
“Has the great Cord Donovan finally found someone to crush on?”
I roll my eyes. “Enough. Let’s get back to work so we can get out of here.”
“Got a hot date?” Brayden quips with a flip of his hair.
“You’re all fired.” I nod to Austin, the only one not joining in on the ribbing, but probably only because he’s new. “Except you.”
Austin smiles and gets back into his opening position.
I point at him. “He’s my favorite.”
The rest of them grumble but fall back in line. We only make it through the routine once before the door to the theater opens.
Allegra sneaks in on quiet feet and slides into a seat in the back like we might not notice she’s there.
Every single one of us notices.
“You made it.” I know I need to get ahead of this before the guys jump to conclusions.
Though knowing them, there’s no stopping them from jumping to conclusions.
“Everyone, this is Allegra Hart, ballet dancer extraordinaire. We’re going to be working on that piece I told you about.
Allegra, this is Josh, Brayden, Noah, and Austin. ”
They all take the opportunity to abandon their positions and come to the edge of the stage, scoping out the new addition.
“Hello.” Allegra waves, her movements small and timid. “Thanks for letting me crash your rehearsal.”
“Damn, Cord, you never let anyone crash rehearsal,” Josh says. I don’t miss the way his hand moves to tug up on the fabric of his shirt, showing off his dark brown skin and ridges of abs.
“Seriously, man,” Brayden joins in with another toss of his perfect nineties hair. “My sister came in from California just to see me and you wouldn’t even let her through the front door.”
“Yeah, well, you know the drill. My show, my rules.” I try to sound harsh, but I know none of them buy it. “Let’s run the number from the top.” I hop off the stage, making my way through the chairs and tables to slide into the seat next to Allegra’s.
The guys get set in place, the music starts, and instead of watching my dancers, I’m watching her, noticing every hint of her reactions. She tries to hide it but she’s impressed. I imagine it’s grudging but she’s still impressed.
The song ends and the guys hit their final pose. Allegra’s applause is genuine and enthusiastic.
“Any notes?” I lean in, getting a whiff of something floral and soft. I don’t pull away, letting myself linger next to her under the guise of needing to hear her response.
She swallows thickly. “The new guy…”
“Austin.”
“Austin is a half a beat late on most of the steps.”
I nod, rising from my seat and strolling to the stage. I pull Austin aside and give him the note. I could have just called out the directive from my position in the audience, but I prefer to address corrections one-on-one, something I decided to do early on and have never wavered from.
I stay by the stage so I watch the number instead of Allegra. The guys run it again, and this time, Austin’s timing is perfect.
“Amazing. That was spot-on.” I clap my hands together, then check my watch. “Why don’t you guys get out of here. I’ll see you all tomorrow for the full run-through.”
Austin flags me down to ask some questions while Josh and Brayden head backstage. I watch out of the corner of my eye as Noah jumps from the stage and crosses over to where Allegra sits.
Something stirs in my gut, an unfamiliar feeling I don’t want to even try to give a name to. I rush Austin out and stride over to break up the conversation between my best friend and my student.
“Is this guy harassing you, miss?” I clap a hand on Noah’s shoulder only slightly harder than I normally would.
“Who, me?” The smile never leaves Noah’s face as he stands and claps me back so hard I flinch. “It was nice to meet you, Allegra Hart. Looking forward to seeing you dance.” He waves over his shoulder as he heads backstage.
I find myself studying her face once again, watching for any hint of interest to spark in her eyes. But she turns them back on me instead of watching Noah walk away. I don’t acknowledge the relief that comes with that.
“Did you end up eating dinner on your own?” I ask. I know to tread lightly when it comes to ballerinas and food, but I want to make sure she eats something.
She shakes her head. “No, but I can get something at home when we’re done.”
“You sure? My place is in between here and the studio. We could stop and at least have a snack before our lesson.” I don’t know why I offer. The last thing I should be doing is inviting this woman to my home. I don’t invite anyone over.
“I’m good.” Her voice squeaks a bit, and I smile.
“Okay, shall we head out then?” I lead her to the front of the building and out to the street.
The air has turned chilly as the sun has gone down. Allegra zips her jacket all the way up and tucks her hands into her pockets.
“It’s just the two blocks,” I say, then kick myself for not being able to come up with anything more intelligent than that.
Luckily the walk is short and the studio is warm, and the silence between us feels comfortable and not stilted.
Allegra tosses her bag onto one of the chairs and takes off her jacket, revealing a light pink leotard underneath. “What do you want me in?”
I halt in my tracks on the way to turn on the speakers, stopped by the vision of Allegra wearing exactly what I want her in. “I’m sorry?”
She gestures to her feet, currently clad in Ugg boots. “Slippers or pointe?”
“Oh. Right.” I turn my back to her as if I’m focused on the stereo and not on calming my racing heart. “Slippers are fine for today, Slippers.” I flip the switch in the speakers and keep the music low. We’re not dancing tonight, but having a background beat will help.
“So what exactly is the plan for tonight?” She kicks off her Uggs and slips into a pair of soft pink shoes.
I sink into the armchair across from her. “First, let’s talk about your homework.”
Her back straightens. “I completed it, as asked.”
“Kind of a last-minute finish there.”
She shrugs, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. “You told me to have it done before our next meeting, and I did.”
“So what about your afternoon in Times Square brought you pleasure?” I don’t know why I’m bothering to interrogate her, it’s not as if these made-up assignments really matter—I’m flying by the seat of my pants when it comes to these lessons—but I find myself wanting to hear her answer.
She bites her lip as she thinks. “Times Square is someplace I like to go when I’m feeling lonely. Being there makes me feel safe, I guess.”
“Were you feeling lonely this afternoon?” I hate the thought of that, but I hate even more that her answer has an effect on me.
She shrugs again and it’s still anything but casual. “Not particularly. But you asked me to do something that brings me pleasure and that’s what I did.”
The word pleasure dances across my skin.
Fuck. I need to get myself under control here.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
“Can I ask you a personal question, Slippers?” I wait for her to nod before I continue.
“When was the last time you were with someone who satisfied you? Sexually speaking, I mean.” So much for getting myself under control.
I don’t know where the audacity for the question comes from, but that doesn’t keep me from needing to know her answer.
She sucks in a breath. “I don’t date a lot.”
“I didn’t ask about dating.”
She meets my gaze and there’s fire in the depths of those hazel eyes. “I’m not the kind of person who enjoys casual sex. It doesn’t work for me.”
“Is that because you don’t feel a connection to the person or because the people you’ve been with have been bad in bed?” Something gnaws in my stomach at the thought of this woman’s partners not doing everything in their power to bring her pleasure.
She considers the question. “Probably a little of both. My job and my schedule don’t exactly allow me a lot of free time to go out and meet new people, so it makes dating hard unless I want to date within the company.”
Dating within the company, it goes unsaid, is never a good idea.
I sit back in my chair, dragging my hands along my thighs, still clad in warmup pants, doing my best to get my runaway thoughts under control.
“Where did you train?” she asks when I let the silence linger too long. “Noah mentioned he went to a prestigious ballet school and I assume as the director you’ve had professional training, too.”
“What?” I deflect, not about to address that inquiry.
“I was just curious about your training.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got the necessary skills to teach you what you need to know.” I hop out of my chair and stride to the middle of the room. “Let’s get started.”
She follows me, standing center and facing the mirror.
I move behind her. “I’m going to touch you again during our lesson. Do you remember your word?”
“Umbrella.” She peeks over her shoulder. “You don’t have to warn me you’re going to touch me every time. I’ve been dancing since I was three. Guys are always putting their hands on me.”
My mouth pulls down. “Yes, well, in my studio, people ask before touching other people’s bodies.” I hold up my hands. “May I?”
She watches my reflection, thoughtfully parsing out my words in her head. “You may.”