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Right this moment, I realize that underneath all the civilized manners I’ve learned, I’m still a predator at heart. Because instead of thinking about how nice it is that Olivia offered us her space to rehearse in, all I can think of is that it will give me boundless opportunities to be in her shop with her. At night. Possibly alone.
“Tomorrow, right after dinner? Will that work?” I ask, looking at Lucy, but watching Olivia out of the corner of my eye.
“It’s been a while since I’ve danced,” Lucy hedges. “I’m glad to help, I just don’t want to overpromise and underdeliver.”
“Goal number one is to have a good time. We’re splicers.” I twist my body and lift my leg to wiggle my clawed toes in her line of sight. I don’t know why I love doing this. Maybe it’s because it feels so damned good not to have to wear shoes. “Instead of worrying about disappointing us, you should probably worry about me squishing your tiny, little feet.”
We all laugh as we rise to put our trays on the counter, then file back to our dorms.
I don’t know what describes my mood better, walking on sunshine or floating on air. All I know is that for the first time in my life, it feels like something wonderful is right around the corner.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia
I’ve never been near the military area of the compound. Not only is there a barracks for all the enlisted men behind the dorms where Ty and I live, but there are offices, storage facilities, and construction areas.
When Ty arrived at Mane Street Fashions this morning, he insisted on speaking with the Colonel immediately. He wants to run his plan by Colonel Slater.
“I’m not asking permission, mind you. I just don’t want everyone to waste their time and energy if the Colonel comes in at the last minute and forbids our performance.”
Ty is a proud male. I like that about him.
If it had been left to me, I would have put it off for a while, like pushing dreaded peas around my plate when I was a kid. Ty’s just the opposite of me, though. He wants to address it head-on.
It’s just that I need to go with him because the first thing Colonel Slater is going to ask is if I’m on board with the plan. That’s why I’m trying to keep up with Ty, two of my steps to every one stride of his, as we head to the Colonel’s office door. With his friendly demeanor, it's easy to forget just how big Ty is, but walking side by side, my head barely reaches his shoulder.
“Come!” Slater barks when Ty knocks on his door.
Although the military office facility is housed in a long, low, metal Quonset hut, you’d never know the place is prefab once you cross the threshold of the commanding officer’s doorway. The walls are paneled in rich, burled walnut, and his desk would rival that of any Fortune 500 CEO.
I can’t really blame him for wanting a nice office. He, just like all of us, is here for the duration until we’re released from our contracts.
“State your business.” His tone is always so brusque it’s hard to read his mood.
Sometimes I get the feeling he’s almost human, like when he bent over backward to offer Ty ballet lessons. I press my lips together to hide the smirk threatening to burst onto my face when the picture of Ty in a pink tutu invades my thoughts.
At other times, the Colonel behaves just as I would imagine a military hard-ass would. It seems now is one of those times.
Ty steps forward until he can lean over the Colonel’s imposing wooden desk. Ty’s an interesting guy. With me, he’s usually quiet and respectful. He tries not to stare and keeps his voice low unless he’s so full of excitement he gets carried away.
With the Colonel, who, frankly, scares me, he’s just the opposite. Maybe I’m mistaken, but it seems Ty is looming over Colonel Slater in order to get the upper hand.
He succinctly states his purpose, then asks for what he wants.
“We’ve ironed it all out. All we need is your rubber stamp for us to practice in Mane Street Fashions. Those mirrors you promised to install in the males’ dorm can be placed on the east wall. We’ll need permission to come and go at odd hours until the date of the performance.”
I don’t know where or when Ty figured out how to give orders, but he’s a master at it.
“Oh, and I’d like the cameras removed from our rehearsal space. I believe it will inhibit free expression from the shyest members of the troupe.”
At that, Colonel Slater chortles.
“Shy? I’ve gotten to know all of you males over the last three years. Tell me, Ty, who among you do you consider shy?” He laughs again, as if this is the funniest thing he’s heard in weeks.
“Miss Lucy, Sir. I assumed it would be hard enough on her dancing with a bunch of big-footed splicers. I thought it would be even more difficult to know human males were watching and judging her as well.”
It should come as no surprise that Ty is an astute military strategist. If I’d had his know-how and courage, I think the debacle atFashion Frenemiesmight have ended differently.
