Chapter Eighteen Allegra
Eighteen
Allegra
The morning of my audition, I dress in my sexiest leotard. It’s one of the few I own that isn’t pink. This one is black and low cut with tiny little straps that look like they could snap at any moment. I pair it with a fluttery black skirt and take a risk by leaving my legs bare, no tights.
Several other company members fill the audition room and as David teaches us the steps we’ll audition with, I make sure I am in the front of the room.
Close to his eyeline but also close to the mirror.
As we practice the choreography, I watch myself, not looking for flaws like I would have done at any audition in the past. This time I’m looking for things I’m doing well, looking for things I like.
Cord’s simple trick works. By the time it’s my turn to perform, confidence is surging through my veins. I know I dance the steps well, but that isn’t why I know I’ve nailed it the second I finished.
It’s the look on David’s face. Appraising, and appreciative, and if I let myself think on it too much, slightly leering.
I give him a smirk and a raised eyebrow, not backing down, even when his eyes rake over my body from head to toe.
This part is mine.
And there’s only one person I want to share the news with.
I don’t have to initiate the conversation because by the time I push out of the studio doors, there’s already a text from Cord waiting for me.
Cord: How did it go?
Me: Amazing. I don’t think we’ll know the results for a while, but I feel really good about it.
I feel more than good about it, but I don’t want to jinx myself.
Cord: I knew you would nail it. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Slippers.
Me: I am.
Me: Thank you.
Cord: My pleasure.
I still don’t know if I can directly bring up what happened in the studio last night, but at the very least, I can see how he might be feeling about the future.
Me: Are you still planning on coming to Bethany’s wedding on Saturday?
Cord: Only if it’s okay with you.
Me: It is.
Me: I’d like for you to be there.
Cord: Of course you would, I look great in a suit.
Me: I’ve seen you in a suit in your opening act.
Cord: Should I also plan on taking this one off?
Me: Not at my sister’s wedding, no.
Cord: Another time then
My cheeks heat at the insinuation. I send him the pertinent info for the wedding and spend the rest of the day with a smile wide on my face.
We don’t talk much for the rest of the week, but not a day goes by where we don’t exchange at least a couple of texts.
There are no more lessons to schedule or plans to work out, but that doesn’t stop us from finding a reason to reach out.
I would be lying if I said a little thrill didn’t race through me every time his name appeared on my screen.
I would be an even bigger liar if I claimed I didn’t think about that lap dance most nights while lying in bed, sometimes with my vibrator in hand, usually imagining what it might feel like for Cord’s fingers to be doing the work.
I let Bethany know Cord will be joining us for the wedding, and I finally break down and admit that things might not be totally platonic between us.
There’s a lot of squealing (Bethany) and sighing (me) during our conversation and I’m ninety percent sure she’s already planning our wedding, despite my insistence that I’m not looking for a relationship.
Bethany has never been one to let a little thing like my thoughts and opinions get in the way of her plans for me.
The day of the wedding, I don’t actually see Cord until the ceremony.
I spend the morning doing my sister’s bidding—willingly and happily—making sure she has everything she could possibly need at a moment’s notice.
Luckily, because of her intense planning and beyond competent wedding coordinator, everything so far has gone exactly to plan.
It isn’t until I reach the altar and watch my baby sister walk down the flower-strewn aisle, sandwiched between our parents, that I fully let the meaning of the day sink in. Bethany is getting married. In just a few minutes, she’s going to be someone’s wife.
I watch Cassidy watch her walk down the aisle, and my heart fills to bursting.
If ever there was a perfect match, it’s these two.
Cassidy calms my sister, while Bethany pushes Cassidy.
They complement each other in every way, and as I listen to them exchange vows, I can’t stop myself from thinking it might be nice to find my perfect complement one day.
It’s not a thought I allow myself to indulge in often, but if ever there were a time, I suppose this is it.
My eyes drift out over the crowd as the happy couple slide wedding bands on each other’s fingers. And it shouldn’t come as a surprise that my eyes go right to him.
Cord isn’t looking at the brides like the rest of the crowd. Instead, he is watching me.
Our eyes meet and some foreign feeling grips my chest, a foreign feeling I’m not quite ready to acknowledge.
I’m really happy he’s here, despite any lingering awkwardness.
I turn my attention back to the ladies of the hour just in time to see them share their first kiss as a married couple. The guests burst into applause, cheers ringing around the garden of the local wine bar where Bethany and Cassidy shared their first date.
Bethany reaches to grab her bouquet from me and we share a smile. I want to tell her how proud I am of her, how happy I am for her and Cassidy, but there isn’t time, and I don’t really need to voice the sentiment. I can tell by her grin that she already knows.
I watch my sister and her new wife be showered with bubbles as they exit their ceremony, before I link arms with Cassidy’s brother and follow in their wake.
Cord is sitting in an aisle seat, and as I walk past him, I instinctively reach out my hand. He meets my palm with his. It’s the quickest brush, the slightest hint of contact, and considering the last time we touched, it should feel like nothing.
Instead, it feels like everything.
Once the hoopla of the ceremony dies down, I head right for him, ignoring my mother’s directive to not go far because we still have family photos to take.
“Hi,” I say when I finally spot him on the crowded patio where cocktail hour is being held. The sun is setting and the twinkle lights strung in the trees wink on, making the whole area look like a fairy tale.
“Hi.” He hands me a glass of champagne. “You look beautiful.”
“Oh, this old thing?” I swish the skirt of the long chiffon dress my mother picked out for me. It’s too formal for the venue, and it’s, of course, ballet pink.
For a second, neither of us says anything, we just stand and stare at each other, awkward smiles plastered on our faces.
Then a wedding guest bumps into me, pushing me into Cord’s space.
His hand darts out to catch my elbow, keeping us from a collision. The guest moves away, but Cord keeps a hold on my arm, keeps me pressed close to his side.
“Thank you for coming. I’m sorry we haven’t had much chance to talk.” I swig half of my champagne, nearly choking on the bubbles.
“You had official duties. I didn’t mind.” His fingers loosen their grip on my elbow, trailing down my forearm and leaving an explosion of goose bumps in their wake.
“I think my official duties are almost coming to an end, and then hopefully we might get the chance to talk?” My voice rises on the not-total question.
But we do need to talk, I think. Our conversations since the night of the lap dance have all been casual.
Not forced or stiff, but certainly not addressing the orgasm in the room.
“I think that might be a good idea.”
I try not to read too much into his words, his expression, the tone of his voice, but it would be impossible not to. He doesn’t exactly sound enthused by the prospect, not that many would be by the whole we need to talk line.
“Allegra!” My mother’s voice echoes around the patio.
I swig the last of my champagne, handing the empty glass to Cord. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You okay here?”
“There’s an open bar and a charcuterie table, I’m just fine.” He nudges me with his elbow. “We’ll talk later.”
I rush back inside the wine bar where the reception will take place, the industrial metal vibes a complementary opposite of the outdoor area, before my mother has the chance to completely lose her shit, or worse, discover me standing with Cord.
Family photos take forever, and by the time I make it back to Cord, guests are being shuffled off to their dinner tables.
Luckily, Bethany has seated me on the opposite side of the room from my parents.
As Cord and I settle into our seats, I introduce him to the other guests at our table. Everyone makes casual conversation as dinner is served and it warms me to hear the love and laughter surrounding Bethany and Cassidy on their big day.
After dinner, the couple shares their first dance, followed by a dance with their dads.
Despite the plethora of emotions I’ve felt throughout the day, watching my sister and my father dance is the first moment that brings a tear to my eye.
Applause rings around the room as the song comes to an end.
The DJ then invites everyone out to the dance floor, the slow and steady beat of an old love song spilling through the speakers.
Cord’s hand finds a spot on the small of my back. “Shall we?”
I nod, wiping under my eyes to hopefully clear any remaining trace of tears.
He leads me to the dance floor and I let myself be swept up in his arms. This is the kind of dancing I’m not usually comfortable with, but I know Cord well enough at this point to let him lead.
His grip on my hand tightens before he spins me twice, pulling me even closer in his embrace when I land back in his arms. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the other night, but it felt like a conversation we should have in person.”
I’m tempted to close the distance between us even more, if it means being able to avoid looking directly at him. “I don’t know that it needs to be a conversation. Unless you were upset about it, or I made you uncomfortable.”
He leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Did it seem like I was uncomfortable, Allegra?”
I force my lungs to expand. “Maybe not in the moment, but I would understand if you felt weird about it looking back on it.”
“Do you feel weird about it looking back on it?”
I hesitate before answering. “No.”
“I don’t either.” Cord spins me out, pulling me back in and shifting our position so my back is pressed to his chest. “It was one of the hottest things that ever happened to me.”
I really hope he doesn’t feel the shiver racing up my spine at his declaration, but given our position, it’s unlikely. “Me too,” I admit in a whisper.
He spins me out again, returning us to our original position, his hand low on my back, our other hands joined. “I like you, Allegra.”
I swallow, because surely he can’t mean that, not in the way I want him to mean it.
“But I understand how important your career is to you,” he continues. “I know the time commitment it’s going to require when you get this part.” There’s an understanding there, in the depths of his eyes, and I know he really means it.
Other people I’ve dated in the past have said they understood that I have a demanding job that always comes first. But they inevitably would grow frustrated with me when I couldn’t put them first, when I had to miss dates or go on tour, and they weren’t my priority.
Cord’s hand slides down my jaw, gently gripping my chin and lifting my gaze to his. “I don’t think we can let anything like that happen again, Slippers.”
It isn’t what I’m expecting him to say, and it stops the breath in my chest. “Oh.”
“Not because I don’t like you, but because I think I could like you too much.” His voice softens as the song fades out. He looks like he wants to say more, but those perfect lips of his don’t open again.
The DJ gets back on the mic, letting the wedding guests know it’s time to party before shifting the music to a popular dance tune.
Someone flips the switch on a disco ball and the twinkling lights illuminate the dance floor.
The crowd around us immediately transforms from couples swaying peacefully to groups jumping up and down to the beat.
“Let’s just have fun tonight, okay?” Cord has to yell the words in my ear to be heard over the combination of the music and the crowd singing along to it.
I nod, not sure I have the power to make my voice loud enough to answer back.
I know I will be thinking about Cord’s words for maybe the rest of my life, but for right now, I turn my attention to celebrating my sister. When she grabs my hands, pulling me into the center of the circle, I lose sight of Cord.
I miss him the second he’s gone.