Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“I’m glad we decided to take the train.” Rudy had removed his gloves and kept fiddling with them in his lap. He and I had managed to snag a pair of seats together. He’d offered to drive, but I’d suggested the train for less hassle. “Traffic looks terrible, and I’m sure Center City parking would be even worse.”
“Yep.” I took his hand in mine before he could do real damage to his gloves. “Plus, this way I can ogle you without worrying I’m distracting the driver.”
“True.” Rudy glanced downward, turning a critical eye on his gray dress pants. Under his coat, he wore a blue dress shirt. Both items had been Christmas presents from his mother, and he looked smartly professional, no mistaking him for the catering crew tonight. He, however, seemed unconvinced. “But you’re the one who looks model-worthy tonight, not me.”
I snorted. Isabella had given me a new champagne-colored cashmere sweater that made my hair seem golder and paired nicely with a pair of slim black pants with a subtle sheen. We made a nicely matched pair, no matter what Rudy thought. “You’re always selling yourself short.”
“I am short.” He chuckled.
“You know what I mean.” I made a frustrated noise before joining the laughter. “You’re cute, hot, and sweet. There’s no one else I’d rather take to this party.”
“Thanks.” He offered me a soft smile, and only the packed train car deterred me from kissing him on the spot.
“I would renew my offer that we skip again, but we’re almost there.” I gave an exaggerated sigh. All week, I’d suggested several times that we stay in tonight, celebrate alone, but Rudy had insisted I accept the invite. “Guess we might as well make an appearance.”
“My poor long-suffering ballet icon, forced to make the rounds.” Rudy extracted his hand from mine as we prepared for our arrival in Philadelphia.
“Exactly. Save me, Rudy.” I put my hand on my heart and let my head drop onto his shoulder. “At least promise me a kiss at midnight.”
“Deal.” His smile was warm enough to raise the temperature in the train car a good ten degrees.
Once in Center City, we made our way to a high-end building with a door attendant and an art deco lobby with polished parquet floors. The vibe was most decidedly that of an arts patron and not a struggling ballet dancer. I made enough to cover my modest Seattle studio, but nothing like this.
Tavio and Irina were already in attendance. He introduced me to the hostesses, a lovely older pair of women. They had that been-together-decades look with similar sweater sets and pearls.
After the introductions, I made a brief attempt at milling around and making small talk with a few dancers I knew from various guest dancer gigs around the country. However, I couldn’t say I was sad when they drifted away, leaving me alone with Rudy. The large, airy apartment swirled with activity. A solitary bartender in the corner struggled to keep up with the line for drinks.
“You’re looking decidedly hangry.” Rudy placed his hands on my shoulders and steered me toward a window seating area. “You go sit with Tavio, and I’ll brave the line for drinks and snacks.”
“If you insist…” I said weakly, not wanting to deal with the lines myself, but not wanting to burden him either.
“I do.” He shooed me away, and I obediently went over to the group Tavio was with.
“Alexander.” Tavio gestured for me to take an open chair across from him next to an older woman. On Tavio’s other side was a vaguely familiar middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and angular features. “Just who we were hoping to see. Come meet Julian Hale, the new director at Ballet Philadelphia.”
“Congrats.” I accepted Julian’s handshake. As soon as I heard the name, I was able to place him. He’d been a principal in Boston when I’d been an apprentice, and we’d overlapped by a season. “We’ve met. Years ago.”
“Yes, I was limping my way toward retirement, and you were the fresh new thing.” Julian gave a light laugh. “Good memory.”
“I try. I hope Annalise is well.” I gave a modest shrug. Like Tavio, Julian was married to a fellow retired dancer whom I had passing familiarity with. “I’ve heard you have big plans to revive Ballet Philadelphia.”
News traveled fast in the ballet world, and his meteoric rise as a director was a popular gossip topic.
“I do indeed.” Julian’s blue eyes flashed with enthusiasm. He pointed to the woman seated next to me. “Many thanks to our newest benefactor here, Melody Fox.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I extended a hand. I had enough years in the arts to know how valuable generous patrons were, so I made my voice extra warm. “Thank you for your support of the arts.”
“Alexander Dasher. The pleasure is all mine.” Melody clasped my hand in both of hers. “You first caught my eye as an apprentice in Boston. I’ve flown to Seattle to see you three times now. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said that ABT missed out by letting Seattle win you away from the East Coast.”