Chapter Eight
Scarlet wanted to crawl under a rock. The night may have been bad, but the morning seemed excruciating. The embarrassment of her outburst with Alex hung over her head.
I can’t believe I cried in front of him. Jesus, what is wrong with me?
Alex was some military badass who had seen God-knew-what, and Scarlet was crying over the thought of giving up her new position in a ballet company.
Scarlet tried to keep her focus on Edward, but he was in the middle of a phone call, and her mind kept wandering. She sat in a chair in front of his desk with her hands clasped in her lap to keep her knee from bouncing up and down.
The dull pains that throbbed in her back told her the large dose of ibuprofen she’d taken was wearing off. She hadn’t touched the painkillers or the anti-anxiety pills, both of which were tucked away in her bag.
Her eyes drifted around the office full of shabby-chic furniture, a full bookcase that took up one wall, and elegant art. Her eyes focused on a black and white photo sitting on an antique chest. She recognized a smiling Edward in a full Navy dress uniform standing with his arms around a group of young men in fatigues, one of whom had his head turned down and away from the camera.
She tilted her head curiously at the picture.
Edward hung up the phone. “Sorry about that. If it’s not one lawyer, it’s another. I don’t want this turning into a PR nightmare, especially before the big gala reception—which I’ll now have to up security for.”
Scarlet snapped her attention back to Edward and managed a tight smile. “I can imagine it’s stressful.”
She didn’t want to add that she had forgotten about the gala in all the confused excitement. The lavish party, thrown at the Palace hotel, was meant to introduce her to high society in San Francisco. Would-be investors would want to speak with her, and she had to smile and give them attention. Scarlet used to just perform the short ballet that was scheduled. She never got to go to the party that was held in the garden court and always looked like something out of a fairytale.
Edward leaned forward on his desk. “I’m not expecting this situation to get worse. I think the security measures will keep it in check. I’d like to focus on you and your journey as prima. The attack threw us off course, but I have marketing and promotion to think about … not to mention, an entire ballet season after the gala.”
“What exactly is going on?” Scarlet asked. “I mean…” She took a deep breath and let it out. Edward North was still a bit intimidating to her. He was being patient and kind, but he had control of her career. She didn’t want to be a burden, but she didn’t want to be taken advantage of either. “I want to be the best dancer I can be.” She managed a smile. “But I can’t devote myself to a company if I feel like I’m being lied to.”
There, she thought. I said it.
“I don’t want to lie to you, Scarlet.” Edward lifted himself from his desk and walked to the bay window of the airy corner office. His view looked out to the Transamerica Pyramid and the buildings that surrounded it. He stared out for a moment before speaking.
“There’s an issue with another company,” he admitted. “And unfortunately, they deal with unsavory people to get the things they want … like hiring thugs to go after my dancers.”
Scarlet frowned. “You mean, like, they’re trying to threaten you into closing?”
“Ballet politics.” Edward turned to her and smiled. “Unfortunately, it’s a part of the world. The more successful you are, the more money you cost other companies. East coast isn’t as bad since their market thrives on the arts. The competition is a little more intense over here. There’s money to be made, but only for the company with the best dancers. Right now, I have that.”
Edward took a seat in the empty chair next to Scarlet. “You are a threat to them, because you are a very unique and graceful creature. No one is able to keep their eyes off you when you dance, and that’s important to our investors, who’ll choose us over any other company to back.”
Scarlet looked around the room at the various photographs of Edward’s life accomplishments and dancers. Her eyes focused on the striking Isobelle Laurent. Unlike the other photographs that displayed her beauty in movement, Isobelle gave off a piercing gaze that cut right through Scarlet.
Something Nora said the night before echoed in her mind.
“It’s Frisco Met,” Scarlet said. “Isn’t it?”
The notorious company was known for being overly competitive, and the rumors were always flying about the people involved. Scarlet never bothered to look into the company. She listened to a few stories about tax evasion and possible money laundering. Whatever it was, they hid it well, because no one was ever arrested, the company stayed open, and the rumors stayed rumor. Scarlet always assumed it was just to stir up interest.
She turned her attention back to Edward. “Isobelle Laurent wants me out of the picture.”
Edward nodded. “I think that’s most likely the case. Isobelle didn’t retire. I let her go when I learned of her relationship with Frisco Met’s owner, Balthazar Maxim.”
Scarlet blinked as a memory from the night before invaded her mind like a lightning strike. “Oh,” she gasped. “I think I heard one of the men say ‘Maxim.’”
Edward’s brow crinkled up. “Are you positive?”
Scarlet nodded. “I mean, if they were speaking Russian, I couldn’t understand them, but I heard names … Maxim, and I think Petrovich.”
Edward ran a hand under his chin to rub his jaw. “Maxim is Russian. Mr. Brevic brought it up to me last night. Andrej knows Maxim has been buying up old warehouses around the Central Basin where you flagged those kids down.”
Scarlet pursed her lips. She wasn’t sure what Andrej did, but he was in international trade and the head of an export company. He had eyes and ears in most port activity.
Edward lowered his hand. “In any case, remember the information and make sure you inform the detective when he calls for you. Everything is speculation until we can prove it.”
Scarlet swallowed nervously. “I don’t know if I’m ready to fight a war just to dance as prima…”
Edward reached over and clasped her hands in his. “Oh, Scarlet, you don’t have to. That’s why I’ve brought in Alexander and his team.”
“Yeah, but…” Scarlet shook her head. “I’m not sure what’s more unnerving, being targeted by a rival company, or having some guy follow me around all day.”
“Are you having a hard time trusting Alex?” Edward asked, letting go of her hands and sitting back.
Scarlet blinked. No. I’ve been fighting the urge to admit I feel completely safe with him around.
“I haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours,” Scarlet replied. “I don’t understand how I’m supposed to just trust someone I don’t know to protect me, especially if I’m in real danger.”
“I’m sure the worst is over,” Edward said. “You went through a horrible ordeal, and no one expects you to be okay with it right away.”
Scarlet opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. She wanted to tell him she didn’t care what people expected, even in her line of work.
“But.” Edward tapped a finger on his desk. “Alex has full control of the situation, and everything will be fine. The danger is now minimized to be like any other day.”
As if to accent the statement, the door opened and Armand let himself in. The man’s presence demanded attention with just a gesture of his hand. His skin was polished and a few shades darker than Scarlet’s due to fake tanning. He was younger than Edward, but still in his early fifties, and there was not a speck of gray hair in the ocean of black on his head.
“I meant to be here sooner,” he said, in his heavy Italian accent. “I apologize. How are you feeling, mi patatina?”
Armand hugged her, making her cringe in pain. “A little sore,” she admitted. “But I’m fine.”
Scarlet briefly wondered what Armand had just called her. He was known throughout North Pointe for being overly talkative and nice. She hadn’t gotten a lot of one-on-one tutelage from him, but she suspected that would drastically change.
Edward motioned for him to sit. Armand chose to sit on the back of the chair his partner sat in, and place his arms on Edward’s shoulders.
“I was just explaining the situation to Scarlet.” He reached up and patted Armand’s hand.
“And you understand that we adore you, and won’t let those nasty Russian bullies get to you.” Armand winked at her.
Scarlet nodded. “I believe you have my best interest at heart.”
It’s what she had to believe, even if there were non-damaging ulterior motives.
“Ballet is about humanity before anything else,” Armand said. “Dance is my passion, and you are my protégée—my vision for this ballet company.”
“Thank you, sir,” Scarlet said.
“Pssh.” Armand waved a hand at her. “Call me Armand. We are now family. I fiercely protect my family … even if it means I have to hire a real man to do it for me because the only fighting I do is on the dance floor.”
Edward chuckled and got to his feet. “I believe you have to get to rehearsal. I’ll be there soon to let everyone know the situation.”
Scarlet reached for her bag as Armand turned his attention to Edward. “I see the wayward stepchild decided to help,” he said. “I’m glad. Although judging from the irritated scowl he keeps on his face, I’d say ballet perplexes him.”
Scarlet looked over at them as Edward nodded. She wanted to hear more.
“He’s still sorting through a lot,” he said. “But he’s the best at what he does.”
Armand let out a sigh, and walked over to Scarlet. “Well, I better go make the formal announcement for the season.” He put his arm around her. “New ballet, new prima, same fabulous choreographer.”
Armand blew a kiss to Edward, and walked Scarlet out of the office, to the reception area where Alex was sitting on one of the lush couches, with his cell phone to his ear.
Alex turned to them and got up, giving whoever was on the phone a quick, “Talk later.”
Armand kept his arm around Scarlet as he led her down the hall toward the main studio. Alex kept his distance behind them.
There was buzz around North Pointe of the recent news. As she walked past other dancers, she heard hushed whispers, and couldn’t help but notice their eyes follow her.
Fantastic, she thought. The new waves of attention weren’t as welcome as she’d hoped. On top of the prima buzz, she was officially branded a victim. She knew news spread fast— especially if Victoria St. Claire’s name was involved.
She heard someone’s low talking. “I heard she escaped, like MacGyver style.”
“I heard it’s the Russian mob,” someone responded.
“The Russian mob is in San Francisco?”
Scarlet desperately wanted to get to rehearsal so she could at least attempt to hide.
At the first intersection of hallways, Armand stopped and let go of her arm. “I need to make a quick detour. I’ll see you in the studio.”
Scarlet clutched her bag tighter as Armand floated off. She threw a quick acknowledgment to Alex, who wasn’t keeping as much distance as she would like.
“So.” She teetered on her heels. “I have to go to rehearsal now.”
“I know,” he responded. “I have your schedule.”
“Right.” She blushed. “Of course you do… So…”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I have to be in there today because Edward wants me to talk to the dancers about the new safety precautions. Most days, I’ll go on rounds and keep myself busy while you practice.”
Scarlet’s first thought was she didn’t want him to keep busy while she practiced. It surprised her to realize she wanted him to see her dance, but she couldn’t tell him that. Scarlet was still hesitant to trust Alex, but the more glances she stole, the more flutters she felt in her chest.
“Okay.” She managed a tight smile, turned, and continued on her way to the spacious dance studio known as Studio A. The walls were high, as were the windows and mirrors that surrounded it. Dancers were scattered about, going through their warm-up routines, their bags and belongings strewn about.
A few conversations came to a halt as Scarlet entered the room. She plastered a smile on her face, waved at a few people, and made a beeline for Nora, who sat stretching near the window.
“How’s it going?” Nora asked.
“About as well as can be expected,” Scarlet answered.
She watched Alex keep to the other side of the room where the speakers and piano rested, joining five other men who were also dressed in casual suits.
“You think they all need to be in here at once?” Nora brought her leg to her chest in a stretch and nodded to the men. “How much trouble can you and the Principles get into practicing your pas de bourrées?”
“They’re supposed to give us a safety lecture or something,” Scarlet answered. “Clear the air so people aren’t just rampantly gossiping.”
“This is ballet,” Nora said. “We survive only on rampant gossip and the tears of our enemies.”
Scarlet let out a laugh that echoed out in to the room making the rest of the dancers stop and stare. She quickly brought her hand up to her mouth as Nora grinned at her.
“Glad you’re still you,” she said. “I was worried the whole kidnapping thing would mess with your head.”
The attention in the room seemed to shift to her as Scarlet continued to chuckle, but she ignored it. Instead, her gaze rested across the room.
Alex was talking to one of the other men who kept pointing to the screen of the iPad he held. The small group looked drastically out of place in the studio filled with ballet dancers. Not all of them were built like Alex. It was a rather motley crew of men, but they all knew how to dress. Alex stood out as the definite leader. Scarlet smiled as she watched him.
Her attention was still on Alex when she felt a presence tower over her. The sound of a throat clearing made her look up.
Victoria St. Claire stared down at her, flanked by her two friends, Lily Bennington and Sonja Dean. All three women were poster children for what a perfect ballerina should look like, down to their perfectly placed buns. They were all principal dancers.
Scarlet and Nora both got to their feet. Around them, dancers not-so-subtly began to shift their attention and gather around. Scarlet did her best to straighten herself up to her full height, which was just below Victoria’s nose.
“Listen.” Victoria’s eyes locked with Scarlet’s. “We’re all adults here. I’m sure we can agree that spreading rumors isn’t very classy.”
“Not that you would know much about class, St. Claire.” Nora smirked.
Victoria looked over at her and smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry, Brevic, which one of us was born in a communist country? Not me.”
Nora crossed her arms in front of her and threw a sneer to the tall redhead. “I’ll have you know it’s been twenty-five years since Croatia said yes to democracy—two months before I was born. You, on the other hand, use a language coach to hide your Jersey accent, so suck it.”
Scarlet had to smile at Nora’s quip. No one liked Victoria, but most of the dancers usually bowed to her if only just to avoid confrontation. Not Nora.
“Anyway,” Victoria said pointedly. “We all know what happened last night, and the word is, I had something to do with it.”
“You didn’t,” Scarlet said.
Victoria’s open mouth closed, and she hesitated.
Nora glanced at Scarlet and dropped her hands back to her sides.
“I get it,” Scarlet went on. “You’re upset, and you don’t like me … but that doesn’t make you some crazy villain.” She looked around at the other dancers. “So, we can just stop all the rumors right now.”
Victoria placed her hands on her hips. “Thank you,” she replied curtly.
What Victoria wanted was to look like the better person, and Scarlet had beaten her to it. Judging from Victoria’s tone, she hadn’t liked the interjection.
Victoria and her friends turned in their pointe shoes and retreated back to their warm-up places. The rest of the gathering crowd dispersed, until only Jason was left, eyeing his two friends critically.
“Hooray! I got here just in time for Miss Vic’s empty gratitude,” he said.
“Note that she didn’t apologize,” Nora said to Scarlet. “You know, for threatening you. What a fake.”
“It’s fine,” Scarlet said. Her attention shifted back to Alex, who was watching her. When their eyes met, he didn’t look away.
Jason grabbed the barre on the mirrored wall and leaned in close to Scarlet’s ear. “That bodyguard of yours will not keep his eyes off you,” he said.
Scarlet looked down at her feet. “That’s his job, Jason.”
“Uh, no, sweetheart,” Jason said. “I know that look in a man’s eyes, and there’s definitely something more than moral duty behind his.”
Scarlet rolled her eyes.
Nora chuckled. “I can’t believe that in the course of two days, your life has gone from Reality Bites to the Terminator.”
“Actually, the guy is kind of a dick,” Scarlet said. “So, drop it.”
Jason nudged Nora. “She’s calling him names. Maybe she’ll ask us to go pass him a love note at lunch break.”
Scarlet shook her head, and started to stretch. She extended her arm back so she could steal another glance at Alex. This time, his eyes broke away the moment she made eye contact. He shook his head and pulled out his cell phone.
Scarlet pursed her lips, and brought her legs up to her chest. Her feelings became tangled in Jason’s comment.
There’s something more behind his eyes…
The jolt of excitement from the night before had officially turned into a fluttering stomach.
Scarlet wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.