CHAPTER 6
Theo
The leather seat felt stiff beneath my legs as I settled into my chair at Wicked Saints Records. Forty-five minutes. That was how long I’d been waiting for Winter to walk through the conference room doors of the downtown LA skyscraper. I sat in a boardroom full of investors, leading sponsors, venue managers, set designers, wardrobe specialists, and all the assistants and assistants’ assistants imaginable. In-fucking-sane.
Since returning to LA three weeks ago, I’d been feeling … off. I’d have probably walked if this gig didn’t mean something to me. And not just because Winter and I went way back—back to the first time she stepped foot into Gravity ten years ago and handpicked dancers for her very first music video.
I hadn’t been hired only to choreograph Winter’s Vegas show. I’d been hired to help produce it too, an opportunity I’d been striving for my entire career without even realizing it. Now that we were less than two months from showtime, I couldn’t afford to fuck up more than I already had.
The door to the room swung open, pausing the happy chatter among my peers. In walked an entire entourage of familiar faces—Winter’s label rep, her manager, her stylist, her hair and makeup artist, her assistant, her two bodyguards, and finally, Winter herself.
Her smile bloomed when she looked around the room and saw us all waiting for her. “I think this just may be my favorite sight since landing in LA.” She turned to her assistant, Alison, and squeezed her arm. “Can you believe it?” She looked around the table and threw her hands up. “Vegas, baby.”
Cheers broke out around the table, and I watched the group in fascination. Winter hadn’t always been the puppet master of a room of this caliber. She was once the desperate sixteen-year-old who’d gotten her lucky break through family connections and “the look” the label was searching for at just the right time. It helped that she could carry a tune, but that wasn’t why the label loved her. She was young, fresh, and moldable, and her innocence was extremely marketable.
She lifted her hand halfway and waved at me, her dimply smile as sexy as I remembered. I waved back, sans dimples, knowing it was best not to egg her on. There was a comfortableness between Winter and me that went beyond friendship, beyond business. With all the gigs she’d hired me for over the years, it was only natural for us to flirt from time to time. But that couldn’t be an expectation. Not now. Not when I was months behind on my work. Not after Mallory.
When Winter pouted at my lack of affection, I shifted my gaze and my focus to the front of the room. Denise McDaniel, entertainment manager for the Zappos Theater at Planet Hollywood, was speaking, delivering the news we’d all been waiting to hear.
“First of all, as of this morning at eight a.m., the ‘Love in the Dark’ concert series is officially sold out. Congratulations.”
The entire room burst into applause and mutterings of “Congratulations,” all while Winter looked stunned in her chair. The tickets had been on sale for four months, but for a six-month series, that was pretty damn good.
“More great news.” Denise spoke up as the cheering faded. “The permits came through on the set design, and you’re fully approved to move into the venue to begin setting up next month. The space is yours for whatever you need. I’ll just need you to send back the liability waivers for your staff. Also, I’m working on securing your residences in the hotel, but I’ll need first and last names, phone, email, and a prepayment, at the very least, to get started. Are you fully staffed at this point?”
Winter shot me a curious glance. She was the only one in the room alert to my three-month absence, and I’d promised her that I’d make up the time. Unfortunately, even after being back in town for three weeks, I was still way behind on choreography and choosing dancers.
I cleared my voice and raised my hand to let Denise know I could respond to her question. “We’ll be hiring twelve additional crew members. Dancers. But I won’t have their information for you for another week.” I scrunched my face and flipped my palms out, elbows still bent. “Maybe?”
“Another week?” Winter asked with forced politeness as she shifted in her seat. She let out an awkward laugh, her eyes darting around the room before returning to me. She leaned forward. “When’s the audition?” Her head turned to Alison. “Is it on my calendar?” I heard her whisper.
Alison almost immediately shook her head, offering me an apologetic look. Winter’s eyes turned cold and snapped back to me.
I sighed. The last thing I needed was a micromanager breathing down my back when I already felt the pressure. “It is what it is, Winter.”
Shock registered on her face, as if she’d been slapped. Her spine straightened as she pushed her shoulders back and flipped a section of hair over her shoulder. “Let’s discuss this after this meeting.”
“It is what it is? What the hell is wrong with you, Theo? I’m trusting you with the biggest show of my life.”
Winter was always so melodramatic. I shut my eyes while she continued to spew her disappointment. She’d been able to contain her rage throughout our four-hour meeting, but as soon as it was over she dragged me into a private room on the other side of the building.
“I’ve got this,” I said calmly, hoping my nonchalance would rub off on her, but my comment only seemed to wind her up. Her chest popped out as her eyes flashed red.
“We’re two months from showtime, and I have no dancers, no choreography.” She pressed her palms to her face and threw them back down. “I gave you time to deal with … everything you’ve been going through.”
Her eyes softened some but only for a second. “But Theo. You promised.”
“And I’ve come through on everything so far.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, desperately needing her to chill the fuck out. “The stage design, the music mixes, the backdrop, and costumes. I’ve overseen all of that.”
She nodded, letting out a breath through her nose. “You’re responsible for a lot, I know. But I need your choreography more than anything else. Please tell me you have a plan.”
“I have a plan.”
Her nostrils flared again. “Mind sharing it with me? There’s no show without my dancers. You realize this, right? You realize I came back to LA to start choreography. Which means the dancers should have been trained by now. Hell, half of the dance crew is already a shoo-in. You just need to pick six. Six dancers. Why is that hard?”
“It’s not. I’ll schedule the audition for this week, and we’ll start rehearsals the next day.”
Winter’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned in closer. “No. You will set the audition up for Tuesday. You have three days. Make it happen.”
“There’s no way.” Now I’m the one on fire. “I won’t find audition space by then.”
“Gravity owes you. They’ll do anything you say.”
She didn’t get it. I didn’t throw my weight around like that. I wasn’t her. “Even if I do find the space, there’s no time to send out invites. You don’t expect me to hold an open audition, do you? And have all the wannabe dancers waltz in thinking they have a shot? You want the best of the best, and you’re not going to get that by throwing some crapshoot of an audition.”
“Listen to me.” Winter seethed, and I could practically see venom rising from her skin. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. There better be an audition on Tuesday. Invite only. I’ll be there. Figure it out.” She slammed her fists on the table and stood. “Got it?”
I raised my brows but knew there was no arguing my way out of this one. I’d made my own bed. “Got it.”