First Position Page 8

  “I guess that would be all right.”

  “You guess what would be all right?” Natalie asked blankly, trying to get her mind back on track. And her mouth was dry all of sudden? Why was her traitorous mouth dry all of a sudden? Not cool.

  Ana stared at her in mystification. “You staying on my couch. Isn’t that what you asked? I’m sorry. I’m confused.”

  “Yes!” Natalie said and pointed at her, finding her footing again. “That is exactly what I asked. Awesome of you to say yes. I’ll, uh, grab some stuff from the flood of the century over there and be right back.”

  “Okay, just, um…I’ll leave the door unlocked, I guess. Or you could—”

  “Perfect. And I will open it when I return.” Seriously? Had she just said that? Her conversation skills had taken a ten, apparently, and hit up the break room.

  After packing a bag, Natalie left her soggy apartment and headed across the hall to Ana’s drier, more comfortable place. The apartment was the mirror image of her own. However, the place came with touches that indicated Ana had lived there a great deal longer than Natalie had. In other words, Ana’s place was fully decorated. A comfortable beige couch with green accent pillows sat across from a matching beige and green chair. The curtains over the window at the back of the room, also beige, blended nicely. On the walls hung artistic photographs of dancers like Jacques d’Amboise, George Balanchine, and Margot Fonteyn. Inspiration, Natalie imagined. The living area was open to the small kitchen that offered enough room for approximately one and a half humans to stand in its nook. She found Ana sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter that divided it from the living room. She seemed to be going over something in her notebook.

  “Knock, knock,” Natalie said symbolically when Ana didn’t immediately notice her.

  Ana glanced up. “Hey. Come in. I was just recapping today’s rehearsal.”

  Natalie set her bag near the sofa and picked up one of the green pillows to examine absently. “Recapping?”

  “Oh, you know, going over all of my notes, making sure I’ve internalized the day’s work.” Ana must have noticed Natalie’s piqued interest. “You don’t do that?”

  “What? Go over work after leaving work? I guess I did back when I was working on a show of my own, when I was at the helm and everything fell to me.”

  “You don’t consider a lead role in a prestigious ballet just as important?”

  Natalie dropped the pillow, not liking the sound of that sentence, and took a seat on the sofa. “No, I guess you’re right. It just feels different somehow. Working for someone else.”

  Ana swiveled in her chair and faced Natalie, something clearly pulling at her. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Go for it.”

  “You’re really talented.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not a question.”

  “But it doesn’t seem like you care.”

  Natalie took a moment with the statement that was still not a question. “Of course I care.” She paused. “Care about what exactly?”

  “Your job. Do you even like ballet?” The look on Ana’s face held judgment, and Natalie felt her defenses rise to meet it.

  “I like ballet.”

  “But you have no passion for it.”

  Natalie drew in a deep breath. She decided to level with Ana about her love/hate with the art form. “I walked away from the ballet world because it didn’t seem the best fit for me. You must have seen that at the time. The structure, the rules made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to dance for me, and that’s what I’ve spent the past few years doing. But maybe that was the young and rebellious version of myself, because since I’ve joined the company, I’ve found a new appreciation for the work. Ballet is pretty awesome. I’m sorry if I haven’t made that clear.”

  Ana stared at her and nodded, seeming to let the information settle. “Roger wanted us to help each other, so I want to uphold my part of the bargain. And do that. For you.”

  Natalie readied herself for whatever Ana had for her. She could be big about a little criticism. “Okay, in what way? Do you have some sage veteran advice or something? Lay it on me.”

  “You have to work harder.”

  “Okay,” Natalie said, drawing the word out. Except she did work hard. She was known for her work ethic…just not in the realm of commercialism.

  Ana sat a little taller in her chair, energized now. “No, not okay. You have to put in more time. Discipline yourself. Never show up late to a class or rehearsal, and when you get home, it doesn’t stop there. You have to keep working. Because that’s what it takes to succeed in this business.”

  “Wow. You’ve been thinking a lot about my shortcomings, haven’t you?”

  “Well…yeah. Because it’s important.”

  “And because I drive you a little crazy. Admit it.”

  Then and there, Ana looked caught and tried to backpedal. “What? I never said that.”

  “You didn’t, but you’re thinking it and it’s often written all over your face. It’s okay to say so. In fact, it’s part of what I have to teach you in return. To loosen the hell up.”

  A pause. Ana forced a smile and gave her head a little shake. “Fine. Okay. You drive me a little crazy. There. Out in the open.”

  “More than a little. I drive you up the wall. I always have.” Now Natalie was smiling. “Admit it.”

  “I admit it,” Ana said. “It’s true. You have a way of…”

  “Getting under your skin?” Natalie asked and moved until she stood next to Ana at the counter.

  “Yes,” Ana said, and met her eyes unabashedly. “I don’t know what it is about you that just gets me…worked up.” Natalie raised an eyebrow and held her gaze, enjoying the panicked expression that appeared on Ana’s face at her choice of words. “Not worked up. More like—”

  “Too late,” Natalie said and headed around the counter into the kitchen. “It’s already out there in the universe. I work you up, a declaration I embrace fully.” She glanced around.

  “What are you looking for?” Ana asked.

  “Your booze. It’s been a forever long and difficult day. I think we need to have a drink together to unwind and celebrate this new advancement in our friendship.”

  “I don’t drink—”

  “When you’re in rehearsal. Right, I’ve heard it before. I’m a little bored of it.”

  “And you shouldn’t either. Discipline, remember?”

  Natalie sighed. “Tell you what. I’ll back off my vices for the remaining rehearsal period for Aftermath if you’ll indulge a little right here and now. A happy compromise.”

  “To what end?” Ana asked, clearly skeptical.

  “To relax, unwind, hang out. It’s what people do. It’s time for you to be a person, Frozen.”

  “Really?” Ana stared at her, nonplussed. “Again with the nickname?”

  “I feel like you should embrace it. Claim your title.”

  Ana seemed to contemplate this before making a decision. “No.”

  “Great. Then we’re in agreement. Booze. As in, where is it? Am I going to have to build an ark and head back across the hall to find my own stash? I can do it, but will need to maybe put on some waders.”

  “Don’t you have a bad track record when it comes to drinking the night before a rehearsal?”

  “In fact, I do,” Natalie said. “I’m glad you brought that up. The difference is that we’re not going to get drunk. We’re going to be responsible. In fact, I’m putting you in charge of responsible drinking because I find you just that trustworthy.”

  “Fine.” Ana sighed and pointed to an upper cabinet. “There’s some sort of whiskey my uncle gave me for Christmas up there.” In order to reach the shelf, Natalie had to push herself onto the counter and rise up on her knees. “Please don’t fall. I don’t want to have to explain to Roger that you broke a leg on my watch. It would look like I did it on purpose, which on consideration is not such a horrible idea.”

 
“Fantastic. We’ve now reached the portion of the evening where you threaten bodily harm. We definitely need this drink.” Natalie climbed down, whiskey in hand. She stared at the ornate bottle with a series of consonants she couldn’t begin to assemble into a word. “This looks like it’s in Russian.”

  “That’s because my uncle is Russian. My whole family is.”

  “No accent on you, though, which I find highly suspicious.”

  “Because I’ve lived in the United States my whole life.”

  Natalie located two glasses and poured the drinks. “Your mother’s Russian, too?”

  “Yes. She died in a car accident when I was two. She was also a dancer. Not as well known as my father, but she was well on her way.”

  The thought of a young Ana losing her mother caused the smile to dim from Natalie’s face. Her own mother, flighty as she was, had been a big part of her childhood, and she couldn’t have imagined growing up without her there. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up—”

  “Don’t worry,” Ana said with a dismissive gesture. “I’m fine. I don’t really remember her except for some fragments, so…Hey, how about that drink?”

  “Right,” Natalie said, rallying from the dip in spirit. “Straight, or with a mixer?”

  “Please. I’m Russian.” Ana held out her hand for the drink. “I can handle it.” Natalie raised the glass and surveyed the dark amber liquid before handing it tentatively to Ana.

  “Straight-up Russian whiskey for the Russian. Not gonna lie and say it doesn’t scare the hell outta me. Cheers.” The two clinked glasses and Natalie headed to the couch. She stood before it and held her arms out. “So this is where I live now. This couch is what it’s come to.”

  “I’ll have you know,” Ana said, joining her there and leaving a space between them, “that this couch is really comfortable.”

  Natalie pushed down against the cushion with her hand. “I can agree to the softness.”

  “And you can’t exactly come in here judgments flaring, especially after I gave you Russian whiskey. Last I checked, you were homeless.” Ana had that emphatic look on her face again. The one that said there was no room for disagreement. Natalie found it kind of…sexy in a way. How worked up Ana got over little things.

  “You can relax that angry furrow between your eyebrows. I happen to agree on the merits of the couch.”

  “I’m glad.” Ana sipped from her glass and grimaced. “Wow. Okay. This is strong.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re Russian.” Natalie enjoyed teasing Ana. She tossed back a swallow of the whiskey herself but had to take a moment with the kick. Definitely strong, beyond her usual fare. “I, however, am not Russian and can admit this stuff is deadly.”

  “Because it is. And the Frozen moniker,” Ana said, taking another swallow and gesturing with her glass, “is not who I am. Let me just say that. Is it warm in here?” She glanced around and took another pull from her glass.

  Natalie laughed at how quickly the drink seemed to be taking effect on Ana. “It’s the alcohol and probably the fact that you rarely drink any. Does the nickname bother you?”

  Ana shrugged. “I don’t love it. But it’s always kind of been my reputation, ya know? I’m focused and I’m shy, both of which make me keep to myself. Not a great combination for making friends.”

  “You are focused. I’ll give you that.”

  “More than the average person, and I don’t leave a lot of time for much else. There’s not a ton I can do about that. It’s who I am.”

  “You’re doing something about it right now.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re hanging out with me. Being a person. Pushing past the shy. And you’re actually not so bad at it. I find it shocking.”

  Ana studied her. “Thanks, I think,” she said, and took another drink. “It’s not that I don’t want friends. I do. I think I would like having friends. Friends look kinda nice, actually. I just don’t really know how to go about being someone’s pal exactly.”

  It was clear to Natalie that Ana was loosening up now, which was nice to see. “Well, I think you have to start by incorporating the word ‘yes’ into your vocabulary. When someone invites you somewhere, you say yes. It will probably freak you the hell out at first, but you’ll get past it.”

  “So that’s the secret to your social prowess? Saying yes?”

  Natalie held up a hand. “Within reason, Frozen. I’m not a social whore.”

  “So noted,” Ana said, looking thoughtful. She headed into the bedroom and returned a couple of moments later with a pillow and a couple of blankets. “You’ll probably need these.”

  “Look at you and your impressive generosity.”

  “I said yes to you, didn’t I, staying here?”

  “You did. And that’s kind of huge, so thank you.”

  They locked eyes again and Natalie felt the warmth hit her cheeks. Had Ana always been this amount of hot? Her brown eyes were captivating tonight…and friendlier, open. Maybe that’s what it was. Walls were coming down. They just needed to get to know each other better.

  “Have you ever been in love before?” Natalie asked. She didn’t know where the question came from, but there it was all the same, falling from her lips without preamble. “Since we’re getting to know each other and all.”

  Ana glanced at the ground and then back up to Natalie’s eyes, running her thumb across the rim of the beveled glass in her hand. The empty glass. Before answering the question, Ana rose and poured herself a second drink, which given how things were going, Natalie was all in favor of. “I thought I was once.”

  Wow, okay. Natalie wasn’t expecting that answer and was now all kinds of intrigued. She downed the rest of her drink and held her glass out to Ana, who poured a healthy replacement. “Tell me all about him. Don’t leave anything out.”

  Ana blew out a breath and resumed her spot down the couch from Natalie. She looked skyward before speaking, doing that lip-biting thing that, once again, snagged Natalie’s attention. Now, that was a visual she could study for hours. “There was this stage manager that worked with the company for a time. I was young, still dancing in the corps, and my attention was captured in a big way.”

  “Okay, and then what happened?” Natalie brought her knees to her chest in excitement.

  “We had fun together for a while. The sex was great.”

  “You little minx!”

  Ana held up one finger. “But my dancing suffered and I pulled away. As a result, she left the company and took a job with a touring group.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “And I cannot believe I’m telling you this.”

  Natalie replayed the last sentence of the story in her head to be sure she’d heard Ana correctly. “You just said she. You’re saying you were involved with a woman?”

  “Right. That’s what I said.”

  “I would never have—”

  “What? Is that really so crazy?”

  Natalie sat up, palms out. “No. No. Not at all. I just…didn’t see that coming necessarily. As in, at all. No wonder you’re not interested in Jason.”

  “He’s a great guy, just—”

  “No, he is—”

  “The greatest. Just not really the greatest for me.”

  “No, I would imagine not.”

  A pause hung in the air between them as the newfound understanding settled. The energy in the room had shifted and things felt noticeably altered. New, if Natalie had to categorize it.

  “Not that I have time to date anyway,” Ana said, pulling them from the silence.

  “You should rethink that,” Natalie told her. “I’m serious.”

  Ana laughed, now completely unguarded from the alcohol. “Please. No one wants to date Frozen. You and I both know that much.”

  “Um, no, we don’t at all. You’re an attractive woman, Ana, and a professional ballet dancer, which is sexy all on its own. Trust me, there are people who would line up to date you. I know women who would line up to dat
e you.”

  “Thank you,” Ana said quietly. “Maybe someday. I mean, I would like that.” A pause. “What about you? You’re in love, yes?”

  “Yeah,” Natalie said automatically, and then marinated on the question. “I mean, I think so.”

  “You think so? C’mon, I told you about my thing.” Ana tossed a pillow at her, and Natalie smiled at the new playful behavior. Ana could be fun.

  “No, I am,” Natalie said, though it was a really big question. “Love is hard to categorize. It’s a subjective emotion, right? Different for everyone. But Morgan’s pretty awesome, and when we’re together we have an amazing time. So love? Yeah. At least the closest I’ve been to it.” The words out loud sounded lackluster, even to her own ears. She pushed the thought away for examination later.

  Ana nodded. “You smile when you talk about her. You light up. One day I’d like to have that look on my face.”

  Natalie nodded. “You will. You just have to stay open to the possibility. And as we’ve found tonight, Russian whiskey is not a bad place to start. Within reason, of course.”

  “Of course,” Ana said and stood. “As the appointed officer of responsible drinking, I should probably let you get some rest. We have class tomorrow morning and rehearsal after. We cannot be late. Got it? Not even a minute.”

  “You’re bossy when you’ve had a drink,” Natalie said, staring up at Ana, all alluring and gorgeous in that white T-shirt, its V-neck dipped to subtle curves. She should really stop objectifying her friend.

  “Yeah, well, your fault.”

  Natalie shot a victorious fist in the air. “I’ll take it. Corrupting the innocent everywhere I go.”

  “Good night, Natalie,” Ana said, and rounded the corner into her bedroom.

  “Good night, Frozen.” The sound of quiet laughter trickled from the bedroom. Natalie shook her head as she went about turning the sofa into a bed for herself, reflecting on the very unexpected evening. There was way more to Anastasia Mikhelson than she once thought. Way more.

  She was human and came with hopes and dreams and fears and a sex life of her own.

  Who knew?