Jules was a lawyer, and a London member of her firm had a daughter who was performing in the showcase. He’d bought tickets for every employee who wanted to attend, including those who were visiting from out of town.
“I’ve never been to a ballet, so I figured, why not?” Jules shrugged. “Anyway, it looks like the show’s about to start, so I don’t want to keep you any longer. I just wanted to say hi.” She lowered her voice. “And Asher, I heard about your situation from our litigation team. I know I don’t practice that area of law, but if you need help, let me know anyway.” She raised her voice to normal volume again. “Enjoy the show! It was great running into you.”
We said our goodbyes, and I waited until they were out of earshot before I arched an eyebrow at a sheepish-looking Asher. “What situation was she talking about?”
He placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me toward our seats in the front row. “I was going to tell you later, but I finally found out who vandalized my car,” he admitted. “It wasn’t Bocci or anyone from Holchester. It was Clive.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “What? Clive as in the rugby player? The one I went on a date with?”
Asher nodded. “Ivy called to tell me last week. Apparently, they rekindled their relationship after our double date. She heard about the car incident from Poppy, who heard about it from one the players, and she stumbled on a bunch of pictures Clive took of my car after he keyed it. The idiot was dumb enough to leave incriminating evidence lying around. He wanted a trophy, I guess.” He shook his head. “She asked him about it, and he confessed. His ego still couldn’t get over the fact that I beat him during last summer’s race, though admittedly, I hadn’t been too gracious a winner at the time.”
My head spun as we resumed walking again.
“That’s wild.” Clive had seemed so nice when I met him at Neon, though he’d raised several red flags during our date. I hadn’t talked to him since then, so finding out he was the culprit behind the vandalization was a shock. “Did you confront him?”
“Almost.” A muscle ticked in Asher’s jaw. “I thought about it, but it wasn’t worth the trouble. The car is fixed, I survived the crash, and Ivy broke up with him over what he did. I did consult with my lawyers, which was how Jules found out about it, but I don’t want a legal battle. Karma will take care of him.” A wicked smile stole across his lips. “I did see that he lost his last three rugby matches. Took quite a hit during the last one, too, and is out for the foreseeable future with a broken leg. So karma works fast.”
“Asher Donovan taking the high road?” I teased. “You really have grown.”
We didn’t get a chance to talk more before Emma’s parents showed up. Our seats were next to theirs, and they showered us with effusive greetings when they saw us.
“Glad to have you at Blackcastle, by the way,” Emma’s father said, shaking Asher’s hand. “I’ve been a fan of yours even when you were at Holchester. I think this year is our year.”
Asher smiled. “I think so too.”
We quieted as the lights dimmed and the show started.
Emma’s eyes lit up when she saw me, but that was all the reaction she allowed herself before she sank fully into the role of Sugar Plum Fairy.
As I predicted, she nailed her performance. When she glided across the stage, the picture of serene grace, I didn’t feel a single ounce of envy—only pride and the liberating peace that came with laying the ghosts of my past to rest at last.
In the week leading up to the staff showcase, I hoped that, like Westbury, it would prove less daunting than I imagined.
So far, I was conflicted.
The performance took place exactly one week after the student one. The backstage area was a zoo as everyone scrambled to finish prepping, and judging by the noise that seeped through the thick velvet curtains, it was a full house tonight.
“How are you feeling?” Tamara asked. She sounded calm, but the pinch in her brow betrayed her nerves.
“Not too bad.” I smoothed a hand over my costume and tried to steady the wild patter of my heartbeat. “I can’t believe it’s here.”
“It does sneak up on you, doesn’t it?” She smiled. “You’ve been great during rehearsal, so don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Neither of us mentioned my disastrous first rehearsal. That was in the past, and we’d come a long way since then.
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”
She’d been hard on me during the first rehearsal, but since then, she’d gone above and beyond to accommodate my needs. If it weren’t for her, the past few months would’ve been torturous.
“Don’t get sentimental on me,” Tamara said crisply, but there was a small twinkle in her eyes. “If you really want to thank me, go out there and show them how it’s done.”
“I’ll try. I mean, I will,” I amended.
“Good.”
Another dancer called her away soon after, and I waited until she left before I braved a peek around the curtain. My heart trembled at the size of the crowd packing the auditorium, but it gradually steadied as more and more familiar faces came into view.
I spotted Asher front and center with Vincent, Carina, Brooklyn, and my parents, who sat on either end of the row so they could avoid talking to each other. My father had fully recovered from his injury over the summer, and he’d brought his (ex) home nurse as his date. That had to rankle my mother, who’d shown up solo. I’d bet my last quid she’d take up with some studly young gardener to spite my father within the next month.
Emma and her parents sat in the row behind them, atwitter with excitement. There were even a few Blackcastle players sprinkled throughout the audience, including Noah, Adil, Samson, and Gallagher.
I inhaled a deep breath and allowed myself a moment to take it all in—the lights, the people, the ripple of anticipation coursing through the air.
This wasn’t my dazzling star turn as a promising young ingénue. My performance wouldn’t be reviewed in The Guardian or have an encore at Westbury the following night. I would never be that dancer again, and—for the first time since my accident—I was at peace with it.
That chapter of my life had closed, but this time, I could close it on my own terms.
“Alright, everyone!” Tamara clapped to get our attention. “Five minutes till showtime.”
This is it.
Nerves fluttered through me.
Four minutes.
The air took on a surreal, hazy quality. After months of rehearsals, anxieties, and self-doubt, it was hard to believe the moment had arrived.
