4. January 2024
4
January 2024
T here was only one reason Vaughn agreed to watch a dress rehearsal of Sleeping Beauty at a theatre that smelled a lot like a nursing home—and that reason was Willow Hayes.
His car pulled up out front of Star Theatre at exactly 3:00 p.m. Finn walked around to get the door, and Vaughn climbed out, buttoning his jacket as he took in the tired facade in front of him. He really did not have time for this, but his curiosity had won in this rare instance. A part of him hoped for mediocrity so he could be out of here before intermission.
Nigel Thompson was waiting for him in the foyer. The poor lighting above made the grey in his hair and beard look tenfold. He was fiddling with the collar of his shirt, looking slightly on edge. His hands fell to his sides when he spotted Vaughn.
‘Mr Gallo,’ he said, walking forwards with an arm extended towards him. ‘Glad you could make it.’
Vaughn glanced in the direction of the bar as he took the hand, noting the rows of boxed snacks, tacky décor, and cheap wine on display that had his taste buds retreating.
‘This way,’ Nigel said, gesturing towards the theatre. ‘I have a private box upstairs for you.’
Vaughn looked up at the downlights, which were no doubt highly energy efficient, then followed him. As he walked up the stairs, he made mental notes of all the things he would fix if it were up to him. Yellowing wallpaper and fraying carpet to name a few.
They arrived at a curtain, and Nigel pulled it back for him. Vaughn stepped inside the box and took a seat, looking out at the stalls below. There were a dozen other people scattered about the place, likely employees.
‘Drink?’ Nigel asked.
There was no way in hell Vaughn was drinking scotch from that bar. ‘Just an ashtray, please.’
Nigel shifted his weight. ‘Actually, there’s no smoking anywhere inside the venue.’
‘Shame. It would really improve the smell in here.’
Nigel laughed good-heartedly, then took an awkward step towards the exit. ‘I’ll be next door if you need anything.’
Vaughn drew a leg up, resting an ankle atop his knee. ‘Thanks.’ The cushioning in the seat was almost non-existent.
A few minutes of responding to emails later, the curtain lifted. Vaughn could tell at first glance that what money they did have was going directly towards the production. The set was high-quality without being garish and the costumes exquisitely crafted.
The performance began with the palace gates scene. The dancers were all excellent. Vaughn waited impatiently for Willow Hayes to step onto the stage. When she finally appeared, his gaze snapped straight to her, as though recognising her by some other means than visual. She was perfection in layers of tulle with her dark hair pulled back in a sleek bun. The style accentuated the elegant curve of her neck. He studied her form as she moved gracefully across the stage. It was like watching a swan take flight.
Much to his discomfort, he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Willow Hayes was magnetic. Every pirouette and grand jeté was effortless. She seemed to defy gravity, and he was entranced. Attraction was normally fleeting for him, but with Willow, it lingered. His soul recognised hers in a way he couldn’t explain. He blinked hard, trying to dispel the thoughts rushing at him. A fantasy was taking shape, one he knew would never be anything more than that because of who he was and how he lived.
Vaughn tried to focus on the flaws in her performance, but he couldn’t find any. So, in an effort to keep his mind occupied on something else, he shifted his gaze around the theatre, studying every detail of his surroundings. But the conversation Willow was having with the music drew his gaze back to her again and again, his heart rate increasing each time his eyes landed. He was beginning to wish he had said yes to that cheap scotch.
Finally, the curtain fell for a short intermission. Reprieve. Nigel popped his head in to see if Vaughn needed anything—and probably to make sure he didn’t slip away unnoticed.
‘Thoughts so far?’ Nigel asked him.
Most of his thoughts could not be shared. ‘Tell me about Willow Hayes.’
Nigel walked all the way in and leaned against the balcony rail. ‘She came to us a year ago. Harrison taught her as a teen. Took her straight out of Sydney College of Dance when she graduated.’
‘Harrison?’
‘Harrison Walsh. Our creative director.’
Vaughn nodded. ‘She’s your strongest dancer in the ensemble.’
‘She’s very good.’
‘I’d even argue better than some of your soloists.’
Nigel chuckled lightly. ‘She also has the least experience and struggles with nerves. She brought some bad habits with her that Harrison’s slowly working through. Her time in the spotlight will come. I’ve no doubt of that.’
The curtain went up again, and Nigel left him alone to watch the second act. Vaughn sat fixated, using the scenes where Willow was absent to compose his thoughts. He was a logical man and simply needed to remind himself of the fact.
When the final curtain fell, Vaughn rose from his seat, only to come face to face with Nigel as he exited the box.
‘Final thoughts?’ the director asked with a hopeful expression. ‘I know you love Tchaikovsky.’
Vaughn’s eyebrows rose slightly. He really had done his homework. ‘I think you have a great show in a terrible theatre.’
Nigel looked around. ‘Yes, I’m well aware of the Star’s… shortcomings.’
‘That’s one word for them.’ Vaughn stepped past him, and Nigel followed right on his heels.
‘It’s not cheap to renovate a theatre of this size and age.’
Vaughn had known it was coming. ‘It won’t cost anything to throw out the faux leather lounges in the forum.’
A chuckle sounded behind him. ‘True. But people need somewhere to sit while enjoying a glass of wine.’
‘People enjoy that wine?’ Vaughn asked drily with a glance over his shoulder.
Nigel took a few hurried steps to catch up. ‘Do you have a minute to come backstage? Meet the dancers?’
That was a bad idea. Vaughn picked up his pace. ‘I have to get going.’
‘Miss Hayes will be out shortly. I’m sure she would love the opportunity to say hello.’
Clever man . That would teach him for asking about her.
Vaughn’s feet slowed despite knowing the smart thing to do was to get out of the theatre as fast as he could. He stopped and looked around. ‘Fine. I’ll be in the foyer for the next fifteen minutes.’ He was unable to keep the irritation out of his voice. Though it wasn’t irritation at Nigel but at himself for taking the bait.
The director hurried off in the other direction, and Vaughn made his way to the foyer to wait. He loitered near the exit, sending a text to Finn saying that he would be outside in fifteen. More email checking to pass the time. Eventually, the lift doors opened, and a group of dancers filed out. He looked up from his phone, but Willow wasn’t among them. They looked curiously in his direction as they exited the foyer. Vaughn glanced at his watch and was considering leaving when the lift doors opened again and Willow stepped out this time. The sight of her had his hand going slack around his phone. He slid it into his pocket.
She was wearing leggings and a cropped T-shirt. His gaze dropped to the sliver of skin that flashed as she walked towards him before shifting to Lili, who was flanking her. Her expression suggested she was ready to take his head off if need be. Behind them was a man Vaughn guessed to be in his early thirties. Average height with a dancer’s body. He had the audacity to give Vaughn a judgemental look while wearing skinny jeans.
Willow came to a stop in front of him, her mouth stretching into a smile. ‘We meet again, Mr Gallo.’
He tried not to look at that mouth for too long. ‘We do.’
Harrison pushed forwards and extended a hand to him. ‘Harrison Walsh, creative director.’
The fact that Willow had to take a step to the side to accommodate him did not sit well with Vaughn. He took the man’s hand briefly, noting the hostile body language despite the friendly tone.
‘We appreciate you coming along,’ Harrison said. ‘What did you think?’
‘The performance was impressive.’ His gaze went to Willow. ‘You danced beautifully.’ Then, looking at Lili, he added, ‘You both did.’
Lili only narrowed her eyes at him, saying nothing.
‘We would love to chat with you about some ideas we have if you have the time,’ Harrison said, drawing the attention back to him.
Vaughn shook his head and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket, putting one between his lips in preparation for his exit. ‘Not today.’
Lili crossed her arms. ‘Did you know that every packet of cigarettes you smoke shortens your lifespan by twenty-eight minutes?’
He blinked. ‘So does stress. You should relax.’ He looked to Willow. ‘What do you think of the lighting in here?’
She looked around. ‘I think they’re doing their job. Nobody is stumbling about in the dark.’
Why did he get the feeling she was rarely critical of anything—or anyone, for that matter? She was likely the type who looked for the best in people, while he immediately searched for the worst.
‘They’re energy efficient,’ Harrison said with a slight frown.
Vaughn stared at him. ‘Is that right?’
‘We’re about to grab some food if you’d like to join us,’ Willow said, prompting an elbow to the ribs from Lili. She glanced at her friend before adding, ‘There’s a pho place with very uncomfortable stools not far from here.’
Vaughn took the cigarette from his lips. ‘Fan of the pho?’
‘I am.’
He liked knowing that small detail about her.
‘It’s $12 a bowl,’ Willow continued, ‘and you get all the garnishes your heart desires.’
He found himself greedy for more information, like exactly which garnishes she preferred. The thing was, he didn’t eat in restaurants unless he knew the owner or, at the very least, knew their food safety standards were up to par. Yet he was tempted by the offer, if only to sit across a much-too-small table and watch Willow select condiments for her soup.
‘I’m sure Mr Gallo has better things to do,’ Harrison said. Smiling, he added, ‘Willow here grew up in the western suburbs of Sydney. She’s a work in progress.’
Vaughn returned the cigarette to his mouth as he studied Harrison. ‘Meaning?’
‘It was a rough neighbourhood.’
Willow looked heavenwards. ‘It wasn’t that bad?—’
‘Not a lot of quality food options,’ Harrison countered, giving Willow a condescending look. ‘And before you argue the point, your definition of quality food is very different to most people’s.’
Vaughn felt an odd wave of heat wash over him at Harrison cutting her off and his general tone. ‘I hear you were Willow’s dance teacher back in the day.’
‘I was.’ He rocked on his heels. ‘She had a great work ethic—still does.’
Willow smiled. ‘I’d probably be teaching at that very dance school if it weren’t for him.’
Vaughn doubted that. She would have been snatched up by another company, perhaps a better one—if she’d ever been given the chance. It was clear Harrison knew a good dancer when he saw one and wasted no time in securing her. Vaughn wasn’t sure what to make of that—or him. Something about his manner just did not sit right.
‘I have to go,’ Vaughn said, his gaze returning to Willow. ‘Enjoy your pho.’
The gold flecks in her eyes seemed to light up when he said that. ‘I will, thanks.’
‘Should I have Nigel call you and set up a meeting?’ Harrison asked before he could leave.
If Vaughn took that meeting, he knew he would end up helping them in some way. Willow’s hopeful face was not helping matters. ‘Have Nigel call me. I’ll see if I can find some time next week.’
He could have sworn he saw Willow exhale with relief, and that pleased him. His eyes met hers a final time before turning away.
‘Much appreciated,’ Harrison called to his back. ‘We’ll be in touch.’
The air outside Star Theatre was stifling. Not even a hint of a breeze in that part of the city. He paused to light his cigarette.
Finn appeared from behind the car, opening the back door for him. ‘How was it?’
The soft rumble of idling cars vibrated beneath Vaughn’s feet as he exhaled smoke. ‘Entertaining.’ That was a safer word choice than ‘extraordinary.’
Finn eyed him as he climbed into the car. ‘Tony’s waiting at your apartment.’
Vaughn replied with a nod. It was time to return to reality, a reality in which poisonous men like him steered clear of gentle-hearted women like Willow. He waited for the driver’s door to close before saying, ‘I want you to find out everything you can about Victoria Ballet’s creative director, Harrison Walsh.’
Finn met his gaze in the rear-view mirror as they pulled away from the kerb. ‘After anything specifically?’
He shook his head.
As Star Theatre disappeared behind them, Vaughn had this strange, irrational feeling that he’d forgotten something—or maybe someone. As painful as it was to admit it, he was not enjoying leaving. He was teetering on a line he wouldn’t have dreamed of crossing a week earlier.
Straightening in his seat, he tried to push all thoughts of the dancer from his mind and focus on the business ahead.
But the thoughts persisted.
Willow Hayes had left a permanent mark on his mind.