First Position Read online

  “Of course not.” She moved to the floor, passing Ana on the way. As their eyes met, the challenge in Ana’s cool stare was evident. Top that.

  But Natalie didn’t have time to dwell, as moments after she took her position next to Jason, the music trickled toward her. She had to get out of her own head, that much she knew. Thinking through the precision of the steps would trip her up, and the only way she knew to survive this was to feel the music. To let it move through her and pull her along. Technique be damned.

  So that was what she did, living within each beat, following every crescendo, and if that meant that she missed one of Roger’s steps, then she’d make up for it with passion, grit, and fire. In that moment, she became Mira, moving into Titus’s arms as he lifted her in triumph.

  As Roger’s assistant killed the music, the room fell into silence. “Whoa,” Jason said quietly to her as he placed her back on sturdy ground. “That was complex. You about ripped my heart out.”

  She turned to him. “That’s the goal, right?”

  He nodded and passed a concerned glance to Ana, who looked on, the air of superiority now stripped from her in a way Natalie couldn’t help but enjoy. She passed a look back. How was that?

  “Again,” said Roger, a pensive look on his face. “Ana first and then Natalie.” It went on that way for the better part of two hours, as one girl danced, then the other. The session included notes from Roger, corrections, and discussion about character and craft. Natalie gave what had turned into the most grueling audition of her life everything she had and then looked on as Ana did the same.

  At the end of her last combination when she was breathless, spent, and in pain from the demands of the choreography, Roger’s voice interrupted her recovery.

  “Jason, you’ll dance Titus in Aftermath,” he said resolutely.

  “I’m honored, Roger. Thank you,” Jason told him.

  They made decisions that fast around here? Natalie took a deep breath and waited for the verdict.

  Roger turned to Ana and Natalie’s heart dropped. “Ana, I want you to dance Mira in the production.” Quite contrarily, Ana gasped and smiled, her hand immediately on her heart. “Three nights a week,” he finished. “But as the part is a demanding one, as you’ve seen today, Natalie will dance Mira the other three nights.” Just as quickly as the smile had been on Ana’s face, it dimmed. But Natalie didn’t care. She’d just been handed an opportunity on a platter, and for her first day on the job, things were going pretty damn well. While ballet wasn’t what got her blood going, there was something about Roger’s choreography that had her hooked, her interest held.

  “Just like that?” Natalie asked.

  Roger smiled at what might have been her naïveté. “Not exactly, darling. You have a great big mountain of work ahead, and I don’t envy you. Your form is still inconsistent and at other times quite choppy, and I can’t have that in my show.”

  Natalie lifted a shoulder. “Well, say what you really think, Roger.”

  “You’ll get there, but not without working day and night.” Roger glanced to Ana, who seemed to enjoy this exchange. “And you. Your dancing is flawless, pristine even, but it’s missing the magic. There’s no soul there, only finesse. And you can’t tell a story with finesse alone. At least, I’m not willing to let you.”

  She nodded resolutely. “I’m up for it.”

  “So that brings me to a plan of action,” Roger said, addressing them both. “You will rehearse together as you prepare for the part, and that is quite intentionally by design. Natalie, you embody everything that is Mira, but your technique is lacking. You can learn from Ana. Likewise, it’s my hope that you’ll help Ana in return.” He nodded curtly. “I’ll see you back here at ten a.m. ready to start what will be a strenuous rehearsal period prior to opening. I hope you’re both ready for what’s ahead.”

  Once Roger left the room, Natalie let out a whoop in celebration and turned to the others, fully expecting them to join her. She was met with a reserve she didn’t quite understand. Why the hell weren’t these ballet people celebrating? Was muted emotion part of the job requirement? Ana’s response to the news was to go about packing her dance bag, and Jason smiled conservatively.

  “Hey, you guys. This is huge,” she said to them. “Exciting! So why is no one excited? Isn’t this the kind of thing that you work really hard for around here?”

  Jason nodded and passed a glance Ana’s way as if to seek permission. “You’re right,” he said finally, breaking into a full-on grin and pulling her into a hug. “Hey, congratulations. I look forward to us working together.”

  “I think this requires more than congratulations,” she said as he released her. “This is fucking awesome. We should celebrate. Get a drink somewhere immediately, paint New York some festive colors. Ana, you’re coming with us. Don’t argue.”

  “No, I’m not.” Ana turned to her. “I don’t drink when I’m in rehearsal.”

  God, could this girl be any less fun? And this was who she was supposed to be working with day in and day out for the next few weeks? “Surely you can make an exception for today,” Natalie said. “The day you were cast as the lead in a new work at City Ballet? I have all the faith in you.”

  “Actually, I can’t.”

  “Ana doesn’t go out much,” Jason supplied.

  “No?” Natalie asked, shaking off the annoyance at Ana’s continued refusal to have a pulse. She focused on Jason instead. “Well, what about you? You up for some extracurricular?”

  He exchanged another check-in glance with Ana. Were these two in some kind of relationship she should know about or simply codependent for the sake of it? “Um, yeah, I’d love to celebrate, actually,” he said, seeming genuinely excited at the concept. Poor Jason, the guy probably needed an outlet if Ana was his go-to.

  Natalie clapped her hands. “Great. Let’s do it.”

  “You sure, Mik?” Jason asked one last time.

  “I’m sure. You guys knock yourselves out.”

  “I don’t know that we’ll get that far,” Natalie offered playfully. “But the night is young and I hold hope.” The comment earned exactly zero response from Ana, which was not a shocker. Natalie returned her focus to Jason. “Audrey, the one with the fun curls, said there’s a place across from the company apartments on Fourteenth?”

  “McKenna’s,” Jason supplied. “I know it well.”

  “I’ll grab a shower and meet you in front of the bar.”

  He passed her a smile. “You’re on.”

  *

  Ana watched as Jason and Natalie left the dance studio, and a pang of something unnamed struck. Was that jealousy? Maybe she should have just gone with them. Shoved it all aside. Hell, she’d just been cast in the role of her lifetime, the one she’d been waiting for since she’d first joined the company all those years ago. But discipline told her that her time was better spent resting her muscles and eating a healthy dinner so she could be back here the next morning in tip-top shape and show Roger that he hadn’t made a mistake casting her. Could that Natalie girl do the same? Doubtful.

  As she pushed open the door to the outside, her phone buzzed in her dance bag. She fished it out just in time to take the call.

  “So how did it go?”

  She hadn’t checked the readout before answering, but her father’s deep voice tipped her off. “I got it, Papa. I got it.”

  “You are the lead? He cast you?”

  She laughed, loving the excitement she heard in his voice. At long last. “He did. I’ll be dancing Mira three nights a week. Another girl will do the other three performances.”

  “You are sharing the role?” he asked. “Why? Why must you do the share?”

  “It’s a physically demanding part, so it’s split between two dancers.”

  “When I was a dancer, there was no sharing. We danced the parts given, demanding or no.”

  “And I could have, too, but it wasn’t my call.”

  “A ridiculous call it is, be
cause you could dance alone.” A pause. “She is good?”

  Ana considered this. “Her technique is scattered, rough at best, but she has this presence, Papa. She infuses her performance with a lot of emotion, and it works. I see why she was cast.”

  “You are better. Remember this always.” Ana closed her eyes at the proclamation, wanting to live up to his expectations, though they had always been so very high. “You have what she doesn’t. Precision. Show Roger. You can do this, Ana.”

  She nodded as a crisp wind blew across her body, prompting her to pull her light jacket tighter around her midsection. “That’s the plan. Will you come to a performance?”

  “I will try to come to New York before the show, it closes. We can have a dinner after. Sardi’s. My treat.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I love you, little Ana. Work hard. Make me proud.”

  “Love you, too, Papa. I will.”

  Night had fallen by the time Ana began her walk to the train, wincing each step of the way. Her left foot, which had given her trouble here and there throughout her off-season training, was making itself known today in startling color. She’d pop some Advil when she got home. In the meantime, she pushed through the pain with each step. Nothing new.

  When Ana arrived back at her apartment, she did what she always did. Struggled with the key in the lock. The building was an older one and the lock had given her trouble since she’d first moved in. As she jiggled the key in the door, first to the right, and then to the left, she tossed her head back in frustration when neither trick worked. Three calls to the super and still no new lock.

  “That door steal your boyfriend or something? I’m sensing a lot of hostility over there.”

  Ana turned at the voice behind her, only to stare into green eyes she’d recently come to know. Natalie exited the apartment across from hers, then closed and locked the door. With a key. Rewind.

  “Do you live here?” Ana asked. “In that apartment?”

  Natalie patted the outside of the wooden door as if it were her friend. “I do. Seems we’re neighbors as well as colleagues.”

  “Great,” Ana said, purely out of civil requirement. That was when she noticed Natalie’s changed appearance. Gone were the leotard and leggings. Instead, she had her hair down, a look that quite prominently showcased the blond highlights in her otherwise brown hair. She wore slim-fitting jeans with a hole in the thigh (the kind you buy that way), and a tight black T-shirt with the words “Do Over” in pink letters.

  “Why are you looking at me like I’m dressed as an astronaut?” Natalie asked and brushed casually at her cheek, as if to wipe away an errant smudge.

  Ana realized she’d been staring. “Sorry. No, just…long day. Zoned out for a sec.” She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that Natalie looked great. With those big green eyes and full lips, she was gorgeous. Onstage, she mentally corrected. She was simply evaluating Natalie’s appearance for stage. Nothing more. She was, after all, Ana’s competition and the most annoying person on the planet to boot. Couldn’t forget annoying.

  “It was a long day, which is why you should join us across the street rather than fight with your door any longer. It’s sad, and that door deserves a break.”

  “I told you, I’m not really in the mood. And it is not sad. Why would you say it’s sad? It’s a door. It’s just fine.”

  “Are you ever in the mood?” The question felt provocative, but Natalie was smiling and that somehow softened the effect. “If my memory serves from years ago, you keep to yourself a lot, which can’t be much fun.”

  “I do and it’s just fine.”

  “Come out with us, Ana Mikhelson. Live a little. Aren’t Russians known for having a good time?”

  “They’re not, actually. Quite the opposite. But then, I’ve never lived in Russia. Another time,” Ana said, and turned to her door, intent on getting in her apartment if it killed her. She wrestled with the key, jiggling it from side to side aggressively, shoving her body weight against it.

  “You really hate that door, don’t you? Want some help?”

  Ana made an after-you gesture and stepped aside in frustration. Natalie removed the key from the lock, and with very little force slid it easily back into the keyhole and turned it gingerly to the left until they heard a quiet click. “See? Just needed a softer touch. This door doesn’t hate you. You should try being its friend. There might be a larger metaphor there.” And with that, Natalie headed off down the hallway, hips swaying slightly.

  “Wait. How did you do that?” Ana called after her.

  “I’ve been told I have really good hands,” Natalie called without looking back.

  Ana felt the blush almost immediately and pushed it to the side in favor of exasperation. So Natalie had not only swooped in and conquered City Ballet, making friends with half the company and then landing a lead role without any preamble, but she also came with the magic touch. Fantastic. Ana pushed her way into her apartment and stared at the darkness, which, after Natalie’s blatant assessment, felt a little…unfun.

  *

  When Natalie and Jason had arrived at McKenna’s, a group of familiar faces called out to them, eager to hear the news from the casting session. It seemed she didn’t have to look much farther than across the street for any kind of nightlife.

  “So it’s cast?” Audrey asked in shock. “You’re saying the Aftermath leads are a done deal?”

  Natalie nodded at the faces along the long table of fellow dancers and pointed to Jason. “You’re looking at Titus.” Right on cue, Jason smiled triumphantly and fist-bumped one of the guy dancers two seats down. As music pulsed from the speakers along the walls, the table broke into a combination of cheers and applause.

  “And who’s dancing Mira?” Helen asked.

  “Ana,” Jason supplied. The girls seemed to sink a little at the proclamation. Whether it was on her own behalf, Natalie wasn’t sure.

  “Well, good for Frozen,” Audrey said somewhat reluctantly. “She probably needs something like this to cheer her up, given she seems kind of unhappy with, you know, Earth.”

  “And Natalie,” he countered, pointing at her. “Did I forget to mention that? They’re splitting the role due to the physical demand.”

  Her new friends turned to her in silent shock, their eyes wide. Helen’s hands made their way to her mouth in beauty-pageant-win-slow-motion.

  “Shut up,” Audrey finally said. “You were cast?”

  “As the lead?” Helen finished.

  Natalie nodded. “Shocked the hell out of me, too.”

  Helen stared at her, shaking her head. “Who are you? And where did you come from? Things like this don’t happen at City Ballet.” But Natalie could tell that Audrey, Helen, and the rest of the dancers, who now passed the news down the table, seemed to be genuinely happy for her, if not a little mystified.

  She smiled at them. “I don’t presume to know why any of this is happening. I show up and I dance.”

  “Well, you danced the hell out of that audition,” Jason said, signaling the waitress for a couple of beers for them. “New girl or not, you make people want to watch you when you perform. It’s all kinds of awesome.” The comment landed and resonated with Natalie.

  “Thanks, Jason. I hope you’ll be watching me carefully during our second pas. That lift scares the hell out of me. I’m not sure how I’m gonna pull it off.”

  “Trust that I have you,” Jason told her. “That’s all you have to do.”

  “It’s been a while since you danced a pas in a show with someone other than Ana,” Audrey pointed out.

  Jason considered this. “Ana and I have always worked well together, and Bill sees that.” There was something about the way he said it that let Natalie know that Jason was a little gone on Ana. Interesting…

  “Well, at least she’ll give you the time of day,” Helen said. “The chill I feel when she walks past isn’t just from the air-conditioning. She definitely hates me.”

 
Jason tapped his finger on the table. “She does not. You guys just need to get to know her better. If anything, she’s shy. That’s what we’re talking about here.”

  “You think we haven’t tried to get to know her?” Audrey countered. “We call her Frozen for a reason. You’re the only one she’s friends with. It actually makes me a little sad for her.”

  Natalie leaned back in her seat and reflected on what she knew of Anastasia Mikhelson. “She was that way in school, too. Kept to herself. Didn’t say a whole lot and then danced us all under the table.”

  “We were a couple of years behind,” Helen said, motioning to Audrey, “but we heard the stories.”

  “You guys went to school together?” Jason asked Natalie, now intrigued.

  “We were the same year at SAB until I dropped. She used to roll her eyes at me on the daily. I have a feeling she still does. I’ll say one thing for her, though.” Natalie ruminated on what she’d witnessed that afternoon. “She’s a beautiful dancer, you guys. Measured. Precise. I could never do what she does.”

  The others nodded in agreement and Helen shook her head. “When it comes to technique, no one touches her.”

  Natalie accepted the beer the waitress placed in front of her and raised it to the group. “I think little Miss Ana just needs some loosening up. And now that we’ll be working so closely together, I will make it my personal mission to see that it happens.”

  Audrey clinked glasses with her. “Best of luck, grasshopper. Take a coat. You’ll need it.”

  Two hours passed in a blur of war stories, drinks, and getting-to-know-you conversation. Natalie learned that Jason had dated several female members of the corps but had yet to fall in love, and that the dancers at either end of the table, Boomer and Marcus, had just gone through a nasty breakup and weren’t quite ready to coexist just yet. The company, in fact, seemed loaded with inner drama that Natalie planned to stay on the periphery of. Hurt feelings, rivalries, and good old-fashioned jealousy were all alive and well in City Ballet. Yet in the midst of it all, these dancers worked together to create the most sought after and critically lauded ballets in the western world.