6. We’re not friends. Nor lovers. We’re strangers
CHAPTER 6
WE’RE NOT FRIENDS. NOR LOVERS. WE’RE STRANGERS
Paloma
I hug my gym bag to my side, balancing my notebook on it while my pen hovers over an empty page. Usually, while on my eighty-minute commute into the city, I take the time to journal or catch up with Dad’s driver, Nico, and his family. Today he’s quiet, and I have a good idea why.
“How’s Lucy doing? Did she turn in her science project?” I ask.
“She did.” Nico meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “She was grateful for the paint cans you sent.”
“Oh good. It looked like a fun project. I remember doing a similar display of the planets when I was her age. It was Sole’s idea to use cotton dipped in paint to show the gas surface of Uranus. Or was it Saturn?”
“I’m not sure either.” He nods once.
I ask more questions about his wife Mary and their youngest Emmie. But he responds with the same lack of enthusiasm, as if he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore. He’s been working for Dad since I was four. He was so young then. My first day of pre-school, I was so nervous, I didn’t want to go into my classroom. Until he shared with me that it was his first day too, and he was also nervous to be our driver. He even shared his secret with me. He’d never driven a limo before. I laughed so hard. By the time Dad walked me into the classroom, I wasn’t scared anymore.
His secret will always be safe with me. I never told Dad or anyone else.
“You’re still mad at me.” I release a breath.
“Of course not, Miss.” He shakes his head.
“Miss?” I throw my arms in the air. “You’re not mad. You’re pissed at me. I told you it was homework.”
“You put yourself in danger,” he deadpans.
“Paul was with me the whole time,” I retort.
“Here we are.” He pulls over and comes to a smooth stop in front of the Performing Arts Centre.”
“I’ll see you tonight.” I hoist my gym bag over my shoulder.
“I have instructions to wait for you here. And take you straight home.” He shifts his weight to look at me. “No more side quests. The Senator insists.”
I open my mouth to explain how ridiculous it is for Dad and him to be this protective. At twenty-five, I should be able to come and go as I please. Especially if my so-called side quest is to improve my ballet performance. But I’ve known Nico long enough to know that he will always side with Dad when it comes to my safety, something he takes very seriously.
“I’m not a child anymore,” I still say.
“You’re the daughter of an influential man. His enemies might see you as a weakness. Kidnapping?—”
“Please don’t go there. You scare me when you talk like that.” I put up my hand. “I swear you sound just like Dad.”
I make to leave but then pause. At the party, Archer insinuated he had met me somewhere else, but Dad quickly killed that idea. I was sure Dad believed me over Archer that night. But I guess he didn’t. “Did you tell him about last week?”
“I didn’t have to. He already knew.” Nico shrugs.
“No, he didn’t know.” I roll my eyes. “I swear you fall for it every time. He was suspicious. But he didn’t know for sure. Until you confirmed it.”
“I’m glad. There are secrets, and then, there are secrets. Your safety is first.” He offers me a fatherly smile.
“There’s no use arguing with you. Is there?” I bite my lip.
“Nope.” He gestures toward the side entrance to the building.
“I’ll see you tonight.” I wave goodbye.
So much for seeing Archer after practice. With the diamond gone, he’s my only hope. But how can I reach out to him if I don’t know his number or where he works, or where he spends his days. As soon as I have the thought, an image of him in his hotel suite pops into my head.
I stop in front of the door, letting my desire unfurl at my core. It doesn’t get too far before the door busts open, and Paul pokes his head out. “Good morning. You’re late.”
“I’m not late. Just later than usual.” I pull the door wide open and barge in.
“I came early to talk to you. You left me hanging last night. You can’t drop a bomb on me and then go silent.” He falls into step next to me as we make our way down the wide and long corridor that leads to the dressing rooms of the theatre.
“I’m sorry. I got pulled in a million directions after I texted you. I didn’t even see your texts.” I fumble through my gym bag to find my phone, though after everything that happened I can’t remember when or where I saw it last.
“Well, you’re here. Tell me. Was it really him? Did the Adonis from the hotel show up at your house.” He grips my wrist, making me stop in my tracks.
“Yes.” I place a hand over my forehead.
“No fucking way.” He turns in place to make sure we’re alone. “Did he tell the Senator what you did?”
“Sort of. Not really. Dad knows I didn’t go straight home that night. But he doesn’t know what I did.” I shrug.
“So how badly are you in trouble?” he asks.
“Nico has orders to wait for me outside this fucking door.” I point at the door I just came in from. “No more escapades.”
“Well, you can tell that to Pierre.” He takes my hand and pulls me farther down the hall. “He wants to talk to us. I’m sure it’s the usual speech he does for his leads. Embarrass me with your poor performance and you die.” He says in a voice that sounds a lot like Pierre.
I laugh. “You’re terrible.”
He knocks on our ballet director’s door. When Pierre responds with entrê, Paul opens the door. “After you.”
“Coward,” I whisper to him.
Pierre sits behind his beat-up desk that has probably been in this cinder-block office since the eighties. He keeps his head down as he scribbles on a notepad. Pierre can be terrifying, maybe more so than Dad. But he’s strict because the job is hard. He swears we’re the ones responsible for the gray hairs on his head.
“Do you want to die?” he says without looking up.
“No, sir,” Paul responds immediately.
When I don’t respond, Paul elbows me in the ribs. I clear my throat. “No. Sir.”
“Good.” He looks up. “Then don’t embarrass me with shitty ballet. Did you do the assignment?”
“I did.” I nod. As much as I feared Dad’s disapproval, I feared Pierre’s more. I went to the hotel lounge the night I met Archer because I didn’t want to lose this job.
“Did our Odile seduce her prince?” he asks Paul.
“That she did. She was brilliant. He was eating out of her hand.” He puts out his hand to show Pierre. Then makes a gesture like he’s grabbing seeds from his hand and then puts them in his mouth.
“Was he ugly? It doesn’t count if he was.” Pierre is also the brutally honest type. But he is brilliant at choreographing, so everyone gives him a pass. It’s why this is his tenth year putting on Swan Lake. “Well?” He glares at me.
Paul looks at me for a moment before he answers, “he’s gorgeous, but also, dangerous.” When Pierre nods in approval, Paul continues, “tall, dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, wide shoulders, chiseled jaw. The full package. But he was no match for her.”
I let Paul do the talking. I’m afraid that if I utter a single word about Archer, Pierre will sense how much I was turned on by a beautiful stranger. Guilt may even force me to confess that I asked for ten thousand dollars and I didn’t even sleep with him.
“Perfect.” Pierre shifts his gaze to me, making my heartbeat pick up. He surveys my face, then skips to my legs as if assessing me all over again. “This will not be an easy role for you. I need you to seduce not just your prince.” He points at Paul. “But the entire audience. I want them all to leave the theater wishing they could fuck you. Do you understand?”
Jesus he was intense.
“I-I understand.”
“Good.” He points to the door. “Start your warm-ups. I’ll see you in two hours.”
I stand there like an idiot until Paul grabs my elbow and ushers me outside. When the door slams close behind, he doubles over. “Fuck. If I had anything in my stomach other than diet soda, I would puke it out.”
“Shh.” I pull him down the hallway. “He might hear you.”
“I need to call my bae and tell him it’s over and that I survived.” He kisses my cheek and saunters across the way to his own dressing room.
I duck into my dressing room and stop at the threshold. This is my first time having a space all to myself. It’s an accomplishment that many ballet performers never get to experience. I’m lucky in so many ways. I sit on the vanity stool and look at my reflection with renewed enthusiasm.
A single knock on the door brings me back to reality. It’s time. I wrap my feet and head out. On my way to the practice room, Mila catches up to me. “Did you hear?”
“I’m gonna go with no.” I point at her. “What’s going on?”
“New investor is going to sit in on rehearsals.” She beams at me. “Maybe we’ll get a raise?” She shrugs and rushes to the group in front of us to ask them the same question.
Warm-up takes longer this morning. Being the first day back, everyone’s focus isn’t exactly where it needs to be. I, for one, could’ve used a few more minutes to work on the ligaments and muscles around my knee. I make my way to the front of the theatre and sit on the floor to stretch my quads while I wait on Pierre. Paul and I have worked together for a long time. So seducing him should be a piece of cake.
“Look alive.” Paul taps me on the shoulder.
As soon as Pierre enters the stage, the pianist begins playing the piece from act two. Pierre is obsessed with this particular scene, so I’m not surprised this is where we are starting. I clear my head and let the melody guide me. Within minutes, I’m floating, lost in the dark corners of Odile’s character. Her desire is driven by a puppeteer. So it can’t be real.
“Again,” Pierre calls out loudly. “I need more.” He jumps off stage to talk to the pianist.
His loud words snap me out of my reverie and effectively knock the wind out of me. I stop to catch my breath and wipe the sweat from my cleavage and neck. That’s when I see him. Archer sitting two rows down, looking at no one but me.
“Are you okay?” Paul comes in from behind me and assumes first position. “You look pale.”
“He’s here.” I swallow.
“Who?” He does a double take. “Oh shit. He. Him. Your prince.”
“Yes.” I inhale deeply. “Why is here?”
“He must be the new investor. You didn’t tell me he was rich too. Gosh, money and good looks.”
“Let’s try again.” Pierre points at me. “Feel his energy around you. Revel in his perfect physique. Control him. Seduce him.” He walks off and the piano starts again.
“Should I get the Adonis up here?” Paul laughs in my ear.
“Stop,” I order.
But then I meet Archer’s gaze. Even from this distance, I can feel the heat of his hard body. I haven’t forgotten how good it was to be in his arms. All day, I have been pushing fantasies of him away. But now, I’m letting the flood gates burst open. In an avalanche of real memories and wishful thinking, Archer is in my head again. Making my body warm with sensation and lust. His hands are all over me, tasting me, just like he did in my bedroom.
The music stops. My gaze darts to the audience, but Archer is gone.
“That’s good progress.” Pierre nods, the slightest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
In Pierre’s world that says I did fucking great. But of course, I still have a long way to go because, like Dad, he doesn’t want great. He wants absolute perfection.
Rehearsals continue and it’s as if we don’t have the job yet and Pierre wants to eliminate us from the cast before the day is over. I keep up by some miracle, though the entire time I swear I can still feel Archer’s intense gaze on me. Why is he here? Every time I ask the question, my core flutters at the expectation of what he might want from me. Like he said, we still have unfinished business. I spent his money. Now he’s here to collect.
We finish up the rest of practice with the ensemble. By the time Pierre dismisses me, my knee is throbbing in pain.
“You need to make sure you wrap that for tomorrow.” Paul points at my swollen knee. The fact that he didn’t make a joke or flirt with me tells me he’s dead serious. And concerned. “You did great.”
“Yeah, but not perfect.” I rub the back of my neck, laboring to catch my breath.
“We still have three months. You already know the choreography. All you need is to nail Odile’s darkness. Control it,” he says in Pierre’s voice, then laughs. “You were meant for this role. Don’t doubt yourself now.” He plants a wet kiss on my cheek and grabs both his gym bag and mine. “Hey, should we hit a bar again tonight? You need practice. This time, I think you should fuck him, like Pierre said.”
“He didn’t say to go fuck a stranger.” I burst out laughing. “You’re insane.”
“Whatever he said. I agree with him. You need a good fucking. Maybe that’s what you’re missing?” He shrugs and drinks from his water bottle.
He’s not wrong. Maybe it’s not Archer that sets my body on fire. It’s just the lack of human affection that has me all riled up around him. Yeah, that makes more sense than a single man having this much power over my body.
“I have a boyfriend, remember?” I say mostly to myself. I haven’t seen Hunter in days since he couldn’t make the fundraiser.
“Oh please.” Paul rolls his eyes and starts heading backstage. “You’ve been dating him for what is it now? Four years?”
“Two years.” I correct him, falling in step next to him as we make our way backstage.
“Why have you not sealed the deal with that one. He’s not bad to look at.” He stops in front of his dressing room.
“I don’t know. We’re not like that.” I try to picture Hunter kissing me the way Archer did, but the image doesn’t materialize in my head.
“Last chance. You in?” Paul wiggles his eyebrows.
“I can’t. Nico is waiting and I’m sure he’s already on the phone with Dad, giving him the play by play.” I give him a quick hug.
“Your father is a tyrant.”
“He’s protective because he loves me. He hasn’t forgotten the last time I was almost taken. He was out of his mind.”
“ I haven’t forgotten.” He shakes his head. “The Senator was terrifying the way he went on a rampage.”
“So now you understand. He’s just worried about me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wave and go into my dressing room.
The quiet settles around me, and I smile. I had wondered how long it takes to get used to the upgrade. How about that? It takes one day. I grab a cold towel from the mini fridge and place it over my knee. If I show up at home in this shape, I don’t know how Dad will handle it. The last thing I need is for him to show up to one of my rehearsals and go at it with Pierre. I shiver at the thought of those two going against each other.
I freshen up while I rest my knee. When I’m certain I can put weight on it again without wincing, I rise to my feet and reach for my gym bag to call Nico. I rummage through the small side pocket, but all I find is my hair ties and makeup. I plop the bag on the vanity counter and undo the top zipper.
In that moment, the lights go off in my room. I roll my eyes. They need us out of here so the janitors can come in and wipe down the place. The fastest way to get us out of here is to cut the lights. In the dark, I grab my gym bag straps and feel my way to the door. I can call Nico once I’m outside.
I expect moaning and groaning sounds outside my room. Everyone hates it when the lights are out. But it seems, I’m the last one out. Jeez. How long did I sit there nursing my knee? Looking both ways, with my heart racing a little, I go right. I’ve walked these halls for years. I know them like the back of my hand. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t find it eerie when it’s so dark and quiet.
For no reason, I stop in my tracks. Like a hunted animal, I feel a presence of sorts. My pulse quickens as I glance at the endless corridor in front of me. I pick up the pace, hugging my bag to my body. My knee barks at me, but I don’t slow down. Something isn’t right. Or maybe Nico just got in my head with talks of kidnapping. I play it off for Dad’s benefit. But that time when some random grabbed me off the street was hell.
Sure, Dad’s detail caught up to the kidnapper before he even made it home. But still, that whole hour stuck with him in a car was terrifying. This is the worst time to be thinking about that. I keep going, fighting the urge to break into a run.
The lights finally come on again, and I run straight into a massive chest. I glance up to meet Archer’s blue gaze. “Jesus, you scared the crap out of me.” I double over to find my bearings. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I wince because antagonizing Archer isn’t the way to get him to help my family. Taking another minute to calm down, I stand to face him and put my entire life in his hands. But when my gaze meets his, I don’t find the same lust from before. He’s calm and collected.
“You dropped your phone.” He hands me the device.
“Oh.” I look at my gym bag and the other stuff that fell out of it while I rushed to down the corridor. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He steps back. “I was on my way to see Pierre when the lights went off.”
“Yeah, they do that, so we don’t linger after practice. Um. Did you see the director?” I ask to make polite conversation. Jesus, I’m bad at this. Should I just blurt it out?
“No. He’s already left.” He smirks. “He’s a bit eccentric.”
“You mean prima donna?” I mouth to him.
“That too.” His brows furrow a bit as if he’s trying to figure me out.
My body aches because even if he’s not interested in me anymore, I still feel his pull. I’m still the moth wanting a bit of light. I use my years of training to lower my heart rate. Then I remember my stuff is still all over the floor.
I squat down and grab a pair of ballet shoes still in the pack. Then a dirty towel and my headphones. He stands there looking down at me. I inhale and then exhale slowly to hide how much he affects me. He crouches next to me at the same time I glance up, and our mouths are inches apart. His lips are full. And I hate that I know how soft they are. That I know how well they kiss.
Heat flushes my cheeks. How odd that I don’t remember the last time Hunter kissed me. He’s so afraid of what Dad may think that most of the time, he doesn’t even like holding my hand. Not Archer. He didn’t care what the Senator thought of him. My gaze drops to his lips.
He doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he hands me my phone again and the pair of leggings I wore this morning.
“Thanks.” I collect the rest of the stuff and zip up the gym bag. I make to leave but then stop. “Archer.”
He doesn’t move. He just meets my gaze, expectantly as if he barely knows me, as if he didn’t have his fingers on my sex a few nights ago. Why does that night feel like it happened so long ago?
“Ms. Davis?” he asks, letting my last name linger between us.
I get it. We’re not friends. Nor lovers. We’re strangers. “My father needs….”
“Is the Senator okay?” He steps toward me, prompting me to continue.
“My brother tells me you are the generous type.” I swallow, feeling so awkward begging a stranger for money in the middle of the hallway where I work. But it’s now or never. “I need your help. We’re in deep trouble. And I think.” I glance down at my hands for a beat before I lift my gaze again to meet his. “I know you can help.”
“What makes you know that?” He arches a brow. “I’m sorry if you’re under the impression that I’m running a charity. Your father has received all I’m willing to give to his cause.”
“I understand.” I step back and hit the exit door. “I was hoping we could come to an arrangement.” My heart thrashes in my ears.
“I’m sure someone of your social status has plenty to sell if you’re strapped for cash.” He smirks as if he knows something I don’t.
“We did. A diamond worth millions. Enough to save Dad.” Tears brim my eyes. I’m leaving it all at Archer’s feet. He can tear me down or help me up. I swallow. “I lost it. It’s my fault. I was supposed to showcase it during the party. But then I don’t know where it went.”
“I see.” He rubs the side of his face, studying me intently, the way one would study a chess board. He’s not making this easy. Why would he? “So, you have nothing else?”
“Only me.” I feel lighter. Because that was the end of it. The humiliation of asking him for money, offering myself, is complete. “You paid once.”
He chuckles. “I’m not exactly what you can consider a satisfied customer.” He reaches inside the pocket of his suit jacket and retrieves a black card. “But I can refer you to someone who can help.”
“What?” My heart deflates because I have to admit, I assumed he would be the one to pay for me. “Okay.” I take the card he offers.
“Show him that. He’ll be expecting you.” He leans forward until our noses almost touch then pushes the door open. “Good night, Ms. Davis.”