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“Alright everyone,” Atkins announced. “I hope your day off has been helpful. We’ve identified the issue with the lights and have taken every measure to ensure your safety.”
Ryan leaned over the edge of the catwalk and gave us a thumbs-up. His eyes met mine, and he smiled for an instant before returning to his work.
“If anyone has a problem with the working conditions, please tell me now so I can find replacements,” Atkins said.
He looked around the stage, but nobody said anything. His gaze ended on Tatiana. She shook her head softly, and then Atkins nodded like it was something they had talked about.
“Then let’s get to work. We have a lot to cover tonight…”
The first few numbers we practiced weren’t examples of our best work. The cast kept glancing up at the catwalks as if expecting another spotlight to suddenly smash into the stage, which caused everyone to miss their tracks and make mistakes.
But the second number was better than the first, and after that everyone began to forget what had happened as they got into a groove.
I watched Braden and Tatiana as they danced together, ending with Braden dipping her down into bed and giving her a kiss. It was impossible not to feel jealous. Tatiana was less of a diva tonight than usual, but despite her best efforts she just wasn’t very good. Her dancing was a step behind everyone else, forcing Braden to slow his own track to match hers. When Atkins critiqued him for it afterwards, I could tell he wanted to blame her. But he took a deep breath, let it out, and told Atkins he would try harder.
He wouldn’t have to if he had a real partner instead of the spoiled granddaughter of the producer.
I was sweaty and tired when we eventually finished for the night—all of the numbers we had practiced involved a lot of movement from the backup dancers. Braden looked annoyed when I met him backstage.
“All I’ll say is that you aren’t the problem,” I whispered while collecting my things next to him.
“Right?” he replied. “If I do my normal track, we’ll be off-time and it looks bad. But when I account for Tatiana’s drift, I’m the one who gets yelled at.”
“Preaching to the choir.”
He looked sideways at me. “Got plans tonight? Dorian and I are going to the movies.”
“I’ve got a shift at the bar.”
“Ah, right.” He gave a self-deprecating shake of his head. “Us rich jerks forget that most people have to earn their money.”
I smiled sweetly at him. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re rich, but you’re not a jerk.”
“I’m sure the money I inherited will corrupt me eventually.”
“Not for many more years, I hope.”
“Want someone to walk you to the bar?”
I shook my head. “It’s only a few blocks from here. Sweet of you to offer, though.”
He blushed, then quickly jerked a thumb over his shoulder to distract from it. “I was gonna send Ryan. Rich guys like me don’t risk their own personal safety when they can send someone else.”
“Fucking right,” Ryan said, flexing a bicep. “You change your mind, Nadia, you let me know.”
I gave him a private smile. “You know I will.”
The bar was dead when I arrived. Jack was hunched over his beer at the counter, but aside from him there were maybe half a dozen other customers scattered at tables. Robbie was fiddling on his phone, but perked up when he saw me come in.
“There’s the Harlem harem queen!” he announced.
“Their place isn’t in Harlem,” I said as I removed my coat.
“The alliteration was worth the inaccuracy. How’s the house of love?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s just fine, thanks.”
“Don’t let this prude tease you,” Jack said gruffly. “You do you, Nadia.”
