Chapter Eighteen Ben
I’m a coward for starting this conversation in a place where I have an excuse to look somewhere other than her face, but when will I ever get the chance to ask her this? We have each other’s numbers and we technically work for the same company, but that doesn’t mean our paths will ever cross again.
It has to be now. Now or never.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Ruby says. Her tone is unexpectedly soft, and just the slightest bit tinged with something akin to guilt. At least she’s not thrilled to be rejecting me. “You know it’s not possible.”
“Is that the only thing holding you back from saying yes?”
Ruby is quiet for so long that I force myself to look over at her. She’s staring at the debris-cluttered highway with an expression I can’t decode.
Then, just when I think she’s going to pretend she didn’t hear my question, she whispers, “Yes.”
My stomach swoops with something like joy and relief combined.
She wants to be with me.
Or rather, she wants to go on a date with me.
Ruby Sullivan, the girl who hated me just a day ago, wants to go on a date with me. Which means she’s interested in me. She’s attracted to me.
Of course, all of that should have already been obvious. After all, once upon a time, we were two strangers drawn together so powerfully that we ended up kissing in the stacks of the Strand. Yet, after everything that happened since that impossible, wonderful day, Ruby is still interested in me. Now that she knows the truth and accepts the series of misfortunes for what they are, maybe we can go back to the beginning.
Maybe we can start all over again.
“Ruby,” I say.
“We can’t,” she repeats.
“I’ll step down from the board—”
“No.”
“No, really, Ruby. I’ll do it.”
“You enjoy being on the board, though.”
I shrug. “I enjoy a lot of things. I’ll find another way to prove my worth to the family. Or maybe I’ll finally grow a backbone and follow a completely different career path. Maybe stepping down from the board is exactly what I’m supposed to—”
“No, Ben.”
A frustrated huff escapes me before I can stop it. “Why not?”
“Because it’s ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous about it?”
“You’re really going to leave a position on the Board of Directors at the New York City Ballet just so that we can go on one date?”
Yes. No hesitation. Maybe that makes me an idiot, but I don’t think I care.
“If that’s what it takes for you to give me this chance at a do-over…”
Ruby sighs. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if that day last May was a fluke and we actually have no chemistry at all?”
I snort, shooting her a sideways glance. “I think we both know we have chemistry, Ruby.”
I know she knows it. It’s undeniable. From the moment our eyes met across the room at the rehearsal dinner to the dance we shared at the reception. The feeling that crackled between us, as sharp and tantalizing as pure electricity, when we walked down the aisle together as best man and maid of honor.
Not to mention all this bickering. If we didn’t have chemistry, we’d argue once and then never speak again. We keep going back for more. She might not be willing to admit it, but it’s clear to me that we can’t get enough of each other. That’s why I volunteered to drive her down to the city, isn’t it? Not only because I wanted the chance to redeem myself in her eyes, but also because I just wanted to be close to her again.
Plus, there’s that raw ruby and quartz that slipped into my pocket. If Ruby’s grandmother is the famous wise woman of the beach and she targeted me very specifically like that, doesn’t that mean there’s some kind of destiny at play?
Who am I to deny destiny?
“Ben…” she sighs. I brace myself, clenching the steering wheel a little bit harder in hopes that it will ground me to something. “We really hit it off last year. That’s obvious. I won’t deny that. And I think that’s the reason why I was so sour about never hearing from you again. It was only one day, but I really liked you.”
“I really liked you too,” I say. “Now that I remember.”
Ruby huffs a laugh. “But, Ben, you have to realize that as soon as we got to the conversation about what we do for work—”
“But I wasn’t working for the board at that time,” I remind her. “And if we started going out, I wouldn’t have taken the position.”
She throws her hands up in exasperation. “And then you would disappoint your father, miss out on a great opportunity, and spite would creep its way into the relationship, which would ruin it over time.”
I snort. “You seem to feel pretty confident about the outcome of something that never had the chance to occur.”
“Well, am I wrong?”
“Yes,” I insist, feeling a flicker of annoyance. Here we go again, bickering, but the fact that we’re snapping at each other over our hypothetical romance lessens the blow. “I would have just taken a different position. Maybe at the Guggenheim. Or wherever else. That’s the thing about nepotism, Ruby. When you’re enough of a privileged brat to benefit from it, there’s a wealth of opportunities available to you.”
She scoffs loudly, but doesn’t say anything.
“This is pointless,” I continue. “We’re arguing about the past. About something that didn’t even happen. Something that won’t happen. Let’s talk about the reality of the present. I like you, Ruby. I want to take you on a date.”
She fidgets in the passenger seat, frowning out the window. I can see the reflection of her troubled expression in the window.
“I would say yes,” she admits quietly. “I would say yes if it wasn’t such a risk. Listen, Ben… last year, one of the male soloists was rumored to be involved with one of our choreographers. Nothing serious. Just some lighthearted fooling around, I guess. Except, when word spread, the other male soloists started complaining that the choreographer was playing favorites. It wasn’t true. Honestly, nothing changed. But it’s a harshly competitive career. If anyone thinks that you’ve gained an unfair advantage, even if it’s not really the case, they’ll stop at nothing to make you miserable. The guys went after that soloist so mercilessly that he ended up leaving the company. He now dances for The Florida Ballet.”
I flinch. The NYC Ballet is one of the best companies in the world. The Florida Ballet is just… decent. Not even in the top ten best in the country. That soloist fell far.
“And that was just a choreographer,” Ruby carries on. “If someone was rumored to be dating a member of the board…”
“Why did he end up in Florida, though?” I hear myself ask. “Couldn’t he have gone up to Boston? Or over to Joffrey? If he was a soloist for—”
“The ballet world is small and catty,” she interrupts. “When they heard he was auditioning for other companies, they spread the rumors to all their friends and connections at the other best companies in the country. One single, stupid affair ruined this man’s career.”
We’re quiet for a long time. We hit some traffic, causing us to slow down into a single lane on the highway as the road cleanup crews clear a fallen tree from the other lane. I focus on driving, my mind buzzing with a tangle of troubled thoughts. The highway melts back into two lanes. The sun shines bright and happy overhead, almost as if the storm never happened. There’s nothing but dense green foliage on either side of the scenic route. It might seem like a normal day cruising through the rural areas of New England, if not for the fact that the roadway is still wet from the torrential rain and cluttered with leaves and bits of bark.
Maybe I do see the appeal of a small town. Just a little bit. Even with the tourists, it was quiet out there. Peaceful. No constantly congested downtown traffic or persistent stench of who-knows-what on the hottest summer days. New York City has always been my beloved home, but I can see how growing up in a place like Mermaid Shores would be a blessing.
Even though I shouldn’t, I imagine how nice it would be to go back to Mermaid Shores with Ruby someday. She could properly introduce me to her grandmother and her twin sister and show me around town with all the expertise of a local.
Maybe, in another life, we could have gotten married there too. We’ve already walked down the aisle together in that town once before. Is it too ridiculous of me to think we could do it again, but in a different context? With her as the bride and me as the…
Slow down, I snarl at myself. She won’t even go on a date with you. You’re letting your imagination run away with itself. It’s just foolish schoolboy fantasies.
“What if we waited until after you’re promoted to principal?” I ask. “If you’re already in the highest possible position a dancer can reach and then we—”
“That could take years, Ben,” Ruby cuts me off. “I don’t even know if I’ll ever even be a principal dancer. I’m lucky enough to be a soloist. Most dancers spend their entire career in the corps.”
She doesn’t say what we’re both thinking, but we know that the delay in her promotion is my fault. Because I cancelled Giselle. Because I made one stupid decision without thinking hard enough about it first.
“You’re good enough to be principal, Ruby. Yes, it’s impressive that you’re a soloist, but I know you’re destined for more.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to date me.”
I crack a smile. “I’m not just saying that, and you know it.”
“Whatever. Even if I was promoted tomorrow and nobody found out about us until, like, six months from now, it would be a disaster. The pettiest of dancers will do anything to argue that others didn’t truly earn their places in the company. It’s just not possible, Ben.”
Rural Connecticut continues to soar by beyond the windows, but I suddenly don’t have it in me to appreciate the beauty of it.
There’s no hope for us. If I keep my position on the board, there’s no possible way for me to be with Ruby and if I leave my position on the board, I’ll lose my family’s respect once and for all. Then again, I’m not certain I ever had my family’s respect in the first place. I meant what I said to Ruby, that maybe it’s about time I stopped caring what they think. Stopped letting their judgment make me feel so inferior. I have goals and interests of my own, and perhaps it’s time that I actually start following them. I might be a Hawthorne, but that doesn’t mean my destiny is written in stone.
Ruby thinks I’ll regret leaving the Board of Directors and that will somehow ruin the fledgling romance between us. The fact she’s even acknowledging that there’s a connection growing between me and her is a miracle enough on its own. She went from despising me to being willing to go on a second date with me.
How can I possibly give up that opportunity? How could I ever walk away from her and not spend the rest of my life wondering what I might have missed out on?
I love working for the ballet, but it’s not my dream job.
I know she won’t believe me if I tell her that. I know she’ll think that I’m just saying whatever I need to in order to convince her that everything is fine. To her, careers are serious, long-term things. The sort of thing you devote your entire heart and soul to. Leaving for potential love isn’t an option.
So, I guess I’ll just have to do it on my own and hope for the best. I’ll have to do it in a way that makes her believe it’s not because of her. That’s the only way she’ll feel secure about this.
Perhaps I should feel sad about the prospect of writing my resignation letter, but I actually feel kind of excited. Even the thought of what my father will say when he finds out doesn’t fill me with as much dread as it should.
All I want is for Ruby to be in my life. If I have that, I can’t help feeling like everything else will be okay.
Ruby, who seems to be just as lost in her thoughts as I am in mine, sinks down lower in the seat.
“I’m sorry, Ben,” she murmurs. “Maybe after I retire… if our paths cross again… I mean, our best friends are married now, so it’s likely to happen…”
At her age, she still has at least a decade left of her career. Would she really wait ten years for me?
I don’t think I could wait that long for her. Not because I’d rather find someone else to settle down with sooner than that, but because I very selfishly want her now. If I had no choice but to merely admire her from the audience like everyone else, I might go mad with longing.
For now, however, I keep those thoughts to myself.
“It’s okay, Ruby,” I say. “We’ll find a way. I know we will.”
I can feel her eyes on me, but if she feels the need to protest the promise I’ve made, she doesn’t voice it aloud.
The wise woman of the beach put that ruby in my pocket for a reason. I’ve never been much of a spiritual person, but I want to believe that it means we really are going to find a way. We’ve already fought our way off the battlegrounds of miscommunications and misunderstandings. We’ve already survived a minor hurricane together.
That has to mean something.