Irresistible You (17 page)

She dressed and entered the practice studio quicker than usual. Sipping her large coffee, she looked around, the room was empty. She was the first one to arrive as always. She walked across the wood floors and dropped her towel and bag along the back wall then sat down on the floor. Stretching and loosening up, she prepared for her strenuous daily workout.

The flexibility of her body conformed to the punishing routine. She extended and folded her body stretching and flexing muscles to their limit. Slowly other members of the dance company began to trickle in. Twenty minutes later Juliet sat against the mirrored wall, her knees in her chest as Richard came in and sat down beside her. She pulled out her pointe shoes, scissors, needle and thread and began her usual ritual. She cut the ribbons, elastic and shank then began sewing the ribbons on her shoes in a more comfortable position.

“Good Lord, Love! You look like week-old fish and chips,” he teased.

“Aren’t you sweet?” she said facetiously. “I thought you decide to change your usual pick-up line?” She yawned her reply as she leaned over pulling her hamstring tight then releasing it slowly. The exquisite pain of the movement prompted her to repeat the action until the pain subsided.

“Seriously, Love, I wouldn’t tell you if it weren’t true. When’s the last time you actually slept? Obviously it wasn’t last night. You look a fright.”

“Harsh, very harsh,” she said.

“But accurate.”

Juliet frowned, adjusted her scarf and tucked the stray hairs behind her ears. “Is it that obvious?” she asked. Richard gave her an “are you joking” look then shook his head and looked away. She pulled the pink and white scarf from her head and tossed it on top of her bag and smoothed her hair back securing her bun. “Better?” she asked hopefully.

“Not much,” he confirmed and laughed. Juliet pressed her face up to her knees. “Right, now, all you have to do is get rid of those humongous dark circles under your eyes, pull your knickers up, get your face out of your hands, stop yawning…” he continued, even though Juliet had stopped listening.

Like a jack-in-the-box, Juliet’s head instantly popped up. She smiled miserably and bit at her lip.

“…And stop gnawing at your lower lip.”

“Alright, alright, I get the picture, enough already!”

“Not quite. The good news, Love, is that there’s probably someone in Tibet who hasn’t yet noticed your frightful appearance. I do hope he was worth it. We have a long day ahead.”

“He who?” she said innocently.

“J.T. Evans.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied as she pulled her scissors out again and began cutting the satin tips of the shoes then roughing them up with sand paper for better traction.

Richard laughed drawing a few eyes in their direction. “You realize, of course, that half the company saw how the two of you looked at each other last night. Then there was the very obvious slipping out together.”

Juliet buried her face in her hands again. “We did not slip out together, and it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

She looked up at him. “Are you kidding? You’re about as transparent as Saran Wrap.”

He chuckled.

“I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” She began banging her shoes to soften and loosen them for wear.

“A slight side effect but well worth it.” He smiled.

“Would you please get your mind out of the gutter for five minutes? I couldn’t sleep, really couldn’t sleep, as in being awake all night.”

Richard reached out and drew Juliet into his arms. “I’m sorry Love that was terribly cruel of me. Where are my manners? So tell me, wassup?” he asked with a serious expression.

Richard’s attempt at slang took her off guard. “You have got to be kidding me,” she said looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“What?” he asked innocently. “This is me being a concerned friend.”

“No, this is you watching those old-school hip-hop reruns again.” She shook her head sadly. “You’ve seriously been in the states too long. You’re starting to sound like a Fresh Prince wannabe.”

“A what?” he asked.

“
The
Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
? Will Smith, pre-action movie star—with a lame 90s hip-hop theme song.” She paused, waiting for him to recognize, it never came. “Oh, never mind. The point is you need to chill out on TV One reruns,” Juliet said, knowing Richard’s fondness for sitting in front of a television whenever he had any free time and soaking up American pop culture. “That idiot box is beginning to corrupt your brain.”

“No one touches the telly, Love. The ladies adore my sexy British accent at the corner pub. I’m phat, livin’ large, so don’t be tripin’ and dissin’ me.”

Juliet laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks. When she managed to stop laughing she looked at him, and burst out laughing again. “Okay, first of all I don’t trip. I’m way too articulate to diss, and the ladies you spoke of only want to get into your pants, Mr. Phat-livin’—large,” she teased, emphasizing the last words for effect.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he replied jokingly.

Richard laughed again as Juliet tried to keep a straight face—an impossible feat at best. The more serious she tried to appear, the more humor he found in the situation. Finally she gave up and gave in. They laughed and continued to stretch for dance rehearsal. Fifteen minutes later they relaxed and cooled down.

“Have you decided what happens next?”

She looked at him questioning, then realized what he was referring to. “No, not yet.”

“Is that what kept you up all night?”

“Yeah, some, that and other things.”

“Look, Love, I’ve got a sweet little nest egg saved in a little bank in Zurich.” He leaned over and whispered closer to her ear. “…And a very large nest egg in the Caymans.”

She looked at him confused.

“If you need a little help—you know a little cash—I have some saved…roughly about two million pounds give or take a few shillings.”

“So what’s that in real people’s money, a dollar and ninety-five cents?”

“Ouch, apparently lack of sleep has made you positively bitchy. And here I thought you adored me,” he said, pretending to be hurt.

“What gave you that idea?” Smiling, she playfully leaned over and bumped her body against his then turned to him. “Richard, thank you. But I’ll be fine, really. Maybe I will or maybe I won’t open my own dance studio. There’re plenty other things to do. I could teach or even be a choreographer. Lena has been after me to join her in New York or even here in her latest venture. So don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m really going to miss you, Love.”

“I know.”

He turned to his reflection in the mirror behind her. “It took me almost three months to train you to my style and raise you to my level.”

“I beg your pardon?” she said indignantly.

“Now I have to start all over again.” He looked away distressed about the prospects. “Hopefully I won’t be stuck with some no-talent prima donna who will make me look bad.”

“You don’t need a no-talent prima donna to make you look bad,” she teased. “You do that all by yourself,” Juliet joked, chuckling as she wrapped her toes and feet with tape then securing cotton to the balls of her feet. She slipped on her ballet shoes and tied the ribbon around her lower leg.

“You know I make you look good, even on my bad days.”

“That’s true.” She paused to bend her toes and test the flexibility of her taped foot. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get Vanya.”

“Vanya, pas de deux with moi? Hardly, many have tried, few have succeeded.”

“But you and she…”

“Yes, yes we had a moment. But as a dancer, she’s nowhere near my talent.”

With all of Richard’s outlandish boasting and conceit, he was absolutely right. He was by far the best dancer in the company. Having trained and studied with Mikhail Baryshnikov, he was a masterful dancer. He did much more than lift his partner and soar with his jete’ leaps. He was a
bravura
dancer, the best of the best.

“Stranger things have happened,” Juliet warned knowing Vanya’s ambition. “She wants to be principal dancer here so badly she can taste it. And to dance a pas de deux with you would be the icing on the sugar-coated cake.”

Richard looked up and across the room. “Here comes our fearless leader with his latest patron du jour,” Richard said as Phillip walked in followed by several very excited patrons. He nodded and waved as the dancers acknowledged his presence, including Juliet and Richard.

With a five thousand dollar suit and a cheap toupee that matched his hair like wearing checks with stripes and plaid, he saluted the dancers like a conquering hero returning from battle.

As the president of the Washington’s Cultural Center, Phillip was responsible for getting donations from patrons of the arts and securing funding for the ballet company, the city opera and the symphony.

The company’s rehearsals were usually closed to everyone not associated with the dance troupe. Of course, that didn’t pertain to Phillip and his latest group of prospective donors. He used every trick in the books, and then some, to raise funds.

“Greetings all,” Phillip said as began his customary speech with his arms open wide seemingly embracing the entire room. For him, every entrance was another opportunity to make a speech and name drop at least three semi-famous people.

His speech, one they’d all heard before, lasted upwards of five minutes with the usual “truly pleased, truly touched and truly blessed” finale.

“Five, four, three…” Richard began counting.

“Stop it,” Juliet whispered.

“Two…” Richard continued, slowing his countdown.

Vanya, who’d been stretching across the room, instantly jumped to her feet and hurried over to Phillip. She kissed each cheek then waited anxiously to be introduced.

“I’m impressed. She beat her own record for brown-nosing.”

“Stop it,” Juliet warned again trying hard not to laugh and encourage his behavior.

Several well-dressed men and women circled the room then took seats along the back wall. They smiled gleefully at recognizing many of their favorite dancers. Among them was the esteemed Senator Randolph Kingsley.

Randolph Kingsley was a newly elected senator who had a serious political future ahead of him. He was the toast of Washington, DC. Everyone who was anyone wanted to be near him. A bachelor with aspirations to the White House, he was a magnet for women and he enjoyed every bit of it.

Having known Randolph all her life, Juliet knew first-hand his obsessive drive. It was the same drive she’d witnessed in her own father growing up.

“Randolph Kingsley, what a surprise?” Richard added, sarcastically drawing Juliet’s attention again.

“Jealous?”

“Please. Don’t believe everything you hear. Vanya and I were over long before he or anyone else stepped into the picture.”

“Randolph’s a nice guy,” she said.

At that moment Randolph looked across the room and spotted Juliet standing next to Richard. He smiled and nodded his head, she returned the greeting.

“But it’s a lost cause,” Richard began as he watched the subtle interaction between Juliet and Randolph. “What is it between you two?”

“Believe it or not, he’s my big brother.”