Chapter Nineteen Cord
Nineteen
Cord
I watch Allegra from the outer edge of the dance party. Her hands are in the air, hips swaying as she bounces to the beat of the catchy pop tune. I’ve never seen her look so free. I’ve never seen her look more beautiful.
I chug the remainder of my beer, handing off the empty glass to a circling server. I wish I were out on that dance floor with her, our bodies pressed together, sticky with sweat, drunk on adrenaline and good vibes.
But I’ve come to an upsetting conclusion: Chloe is right.
If I have any real thoughts about wanting to take things further with Allegra—and I think it’s time I stop denying that I do—then I need to tell her everything.
But tonight is not the night to lay all of that at her feet.
Tonight is the night for her to celebrate with her sister, and from the look of it, she doesn’t need me here to do that.
I head for the bathroom, tucked in the corner of the venue with a long line of guests waiting at the door.
After this, I’ll tell Allegra I need to head out and make plans to see her soon, at a time and place when we can talk and actually hear each other speak.
The bathroom line takes longer than I expect and by the time I emerge, Allegra is no longer tearing up the dance floor. I can’t leave without saying goodbye, so I head outside to the bar, but she’s not there either.
Eventually, I spot her. Her back is to me, her arms crossed over her chest. She’s lost the freedom from the dance floor, her shoulders tight and tense. She’s locked in what looks to be a heated conversation with her mother.
Normally I would hate to interrupt, but it looks like Allegra might be in need of a save.
Crossing the patio, I try to catch Allegra’s eye, give her a heads-up that I’m approaching, but her back is firmly to me and her mother isn’t paying me a lick of attention.
Which is unfortunate, because if she were, maybe she would have tempered her next words.
“You don’t know anything about him, Allegra. The man makes a living taking off his clothes, for god’s sake.”
Scratch that. I don’t see a woman like Mrs. Hart tempering anything, no matter who is there to overhear.
“The man makes a very good living running a successful business. The taking off of his clothes is just a bonus.”
I can’t fight the smile at her defense of me. She’s got a little spark, this woman.
“Really, Allegra. Listen to yourself. We are so close to getting what we want, what we’ve been working your whole life for. Are you really going to throw it all away for a man?”
Her shoulders stiffen even more, her back going ramrod straight. “I’m not throwing it away for anyone, Mom.”
I hate that she doesn’t point out that she is the one who has worked so hard, not her mother.
She isn’t the first ballerina with the weight of her mother’s former life choices resting on her shoulders, but I hate that when Allegra gets this part—as I know she will—anyone else might try to share in the credit.
“He’s a good person, and if I get this role, it will be because of the help he has given me. I wish you would just give him a chance.”
“He’s going to ruin your career if you are seen with him.”
“That’s a little dramatic.”
Her mother moves a step closer to Allegra, though she doesn’t bother to lower her voice. “Did you even bother to google this man? Do you know anything about his history?”
My hackles start to rise. I move from my mostly hidden position, walking as fast as I can toward her, but I know I’m going to be too late.
“Cord Donovan used to dance with the Pacific Ballet. But he was fired. Do you know why?” She doesn’t pause, doesn’t give either of us a chance to stop her. “Because he punched his director, Allegra. He beat up his director because of jealousy about a girl.”
“Cord would never do something like that. I’m not going to listen to this anymore.” Allegra spins on her heel, turning around to find me waiting. Her eyes widen and shame paints her cheeks a pink the same color as her dress. “Oh. You’re here.”
“I’m here.” I don’t bother to acknowledge her mother, keeping my attention solely focused on Allegra. “I was coming to say goodbye.”
She glances over her shoulder, where her mother stands with a triumphant smile. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough.” I shove my hands in my pockets so I don’t reach for her. “Your mother isn’t wrong, Allegra.” She isn’t completely right either, but there’s no point in denying that what she claims is the truth.
Her mother’s smile grows. “I’ll leave you two to say goodbye. Allegra, don’t take too long. You don’t want to miss your sister’s whole wedding.”
Allegra doesn’t respond to her mother, her eyes glued on me.
I jump in before she can question me. “I was going to talk to you about all of this, but I didn’t want to ruin your night.”
“You’ve had plenty of chances to talk to me before tonight, Cord.”
“I know.” I gesture to a nearby bench. “Can we sit?”
For a minute it looks like she might refuse, but she finally folds herself onto the wooden bench, arms and legs both crossed tight. “You danced with Pacific Ballet?”
I nod. This is the easy part. “For five years. I started dancing because of Chloe—she always loved ballet more than me. We trained together our whole lives so when we got hired together, it felt like a dream.”
“But you hate ballet.”
I shrug, studying the pattern of the brick because it’s easier than looking at her. “I didn’t always. I never loved it like you do, but I didn’t always hate it. I love to dance. And I loved performing—that much hasn’t changed. And I liked the physical challenge of it.”
“So what did change?” Her voice softens, some of the tension draining away.
I chance a look at her. Her hazel eyes are on me, open and listening.
I know once I tell her this, it will change everything, just as I know there’s no chance for us if I can’t be completely honest. “Chloe had an encounter with one of the choreographers. Nothing physical, at first anyway…” I trust that Allegra will pick up on what I’m saying without me having to spell out the details.
“When she told me about it, I convinced her to go to the director of the company and report it. I went with her. We did all the right things, followed all the steps they told us to take.”
“And they didn’t believe you.” She says it with a certainty only another dancer could deliver.
“I think they believed her.”
“They just didn’t care.”
“The choreographer was a big name and they wanted to keep him happy.”
“Jesus, Cord. I’m so sorry that happened to her.”
“That’s not the end of the story, unfortunately.” I lean my elbows on my knees, clasping my hands together.
Allegra places a hand on my thigh, a solid comfort.
“He did it again. Probably because she had the audacity to report him. Something Chloe probably wouldn’t have done without my encouragement.”
She scoots closer to me, her thigh pressing against mine. “That wasn’t your fault, Cord.”
I shrug again. I know it wasn’t my fault—years of therapy helped me finally accept that. “I know that, deep down. But when she told me it happened again…well…I didn’t exactly have the calm and measured response I did the first time.”
Allegra slips her hand in between mine. “No one could blame you for that.”
I thread our fingers together. “Everyone else in the company did. They fired both of us. Blacklisted us, too. I had no desire to be a part of ballet anymore, but Chloe would have gone somewhere else if she’d been able to. Dancing was her whole life, and she lost her career because of me.”
“I don’t think she believes that, just as I know it isn’t true.”
Chloe doesn’t blame me, of course she doesn’t. But that’s only because she’s a better person than I am.
I sit back, keeping our hands clasped together. “So yeah. That’s why I hate ballet.”
She angles her body toward mine. “Your feelings are pretty well justified, Cord.”
I turn toward her, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, knowing I haven’t finished being completely honest. “When I called you on opening night…”
Her eyes widen as she thinks back on the conversation. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Cord. I had no idea.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Because you had to hear that. It must have been extremely triggering for you and I had no idea.”
I squeeze her hand. “You aren’t the one who should be apologizing.”
She bites her lip. “I know. But if it weren’t for me begging you for those lessons, none of this would be happening.”
“If you hadn’t begged me for those lessons, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, about to say fuck my boundaries because I think I’m falling for you, Slippers.” My heart pauses in my chest. I can’t believe I just said that out loud.
“Oh, Cord.” Her entire face softens, a small tugging on her lips. “I feel the same, you know I do.”
“But?”
She goes back to worrying her lip. “But ballet is my life. Being in a relationship with anyone right now would be close to impossible.”
“And being with a disgraced former dancer would be even worse?” I try to keep the hurt from turning to venom, but I don’t do a very good job.
“That’s not what I meant.” Hurt lines her eyes and I mentally kick myself for being the one to cause it.
“I know you didn’t.”
“I don’t know if the strength of our feelings matters here, Cord,” she whispers.
I untangle my fingers from hers. “We don’t need to make any decisions right now.”
She nods. “Yeah. I think a couple of days to think things through would help.”
It’s not a rejection, but it sure as hell feels like one.
I stand, straightening my suit pants and buttoning my jacket. “Well, you know where to find me.”
She rises next to me, slipping her hand into mine and tugging me to face her. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come.
So instead, I lean down, brushing my lips against hers. It’s the softest kiss, not enough to satiate my desire for her, but not enough to stoke it either. “Talk to you soon, Slippers.”
If she responds, I don’t hear it. I’m already on my way out the door.