Hidden Worthiness Read online

  “As far as I know right now, it works. Unless something happens I can’t push off, I’ll be there. How will I get to the studio?”

  “Just go to the front office, and they’ll point the way. I’ll tell them to expect you. And thank you!”

  There was so much delight in her sweet voice that Donnie couldn’t help but smile.

  ~ 16 ~

  Ari came out from the shower and tied the sash of her kimono around her waist. She went to the kitchen, where Julian was noisily making himself a bowl of corn flakes. In case she’d doubted that his extra slamming of drawers and cupboards was meant rhetorically, he looked over his shoulder and sighed at her as she came into the room.

  “Don’t start already, Julian. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear.” She hipped him aside and tore a lightly freckled banana off the bunch. “Coffee?”

  He took a cup down and filled it for her. She went to the fridge and got the milk. After she added some to her coffee, she handed the carton over for his cereal. It was a dance they’d been doing in the tiny square of this kitchen for years.

  Julian took his corn flakes and his petulance and sat at the bar that served as their only eating space. “Was that him on the phone?”

  “It was.” Ari put the milk back and snagged a carton of vanilla yogurt. She gathered up the elements of her usual breakfast and sat at his side. “Please just trust me, Julian. Let me see if this is anything with him.”

  “He made you cry. I don’t like guys who make you cry.”

  “Then don’t be one of them.”

  He turned to her, and Ari met his eyes. She saw honest worry in his, but she also saw fear of his own. He didn’t want a man like Donnie in his life. He was afraid of what it would mean for him, too. “There was a gun pointed at you the other night. One of his men pointed a gun at you.”

  “And Donnie put himself between me and it.” That was when she’d started to forgive him. When he’d shown her the diner as he saw it, and it saw him, she’d started to fall for him again.

  “You can’t give the guy credit for saving you from danger he brought to you. That’s like thanking the guy who ran you over for calling 911.”

  They’d been having this same argument for two days now, and Ari was tired of it. She went back to her breakfast, and Julian hunkered over his bowl and ate his. They ate in cumbersome silence.

  Julian finished his cereal and took his bowl to the sink. Ari took that moment of distance as an opportunity. She sucked down the last of her coffee for fortitude and told him, “I asked him to come to the studio tonight.”

  He shut off the tap and let the bowl drop to the sink. “The studio? You want him there for your audition?”

  “After it.” She waited to see if Julian would catch on.

  He did. “You want Bax to see you with him.”

  She nodded.

  “You’ve had one date with the guy, and you’re letting him fight your battles?”

  Now Adrianna was pissed. “Who else will? I haven’t exactly seen you step up to my side.” At her friend’s stricken look, she backed off. “I understand, Jule. I wouldn’t ask you to fight for me. I can’t even fight for myself. I’m not going to sleep with Bax, and he’s going to keep humiliating me and punishing me until I can’t take it anymore. But if he fires me, where do I go? To open Madame Arianna’s House of Dance next to a 7-11 off the Iway? Same for you. Bax holds our lives in his hands. If we want to dance, we have to dance for him. I love what we do. Even with him looming over me, the theatre is my favorite place in the world to be. I can’t lose it, so I can’t fight the man who controls if I have it. But I’m dating a man that Bax can’t fight. If Donnie wants to, he could take Bax’s life in his hands and squeeze, and Bax knows it. I want him to see that I have an ally he can’t fight. That’s all I want—just for him to see.”

  Crossing to the bar, Julian leaned toward her. “I’m sorry, Ari. I should have your back better.”

  She covered his hands with hers. “You do, Jule. You’re always here to hold me up.”

  But Donnie would stand before her. He’d take a bullet for her.

  ~oOo~

  Baxter hated The Nutcracker, and most of the dancers groaned and rolled their eyes at the ballet they’d all performed more than any other. Certainly, it got to be a grind, especially since the audience was hyper-protective of the production. It had to look a certain way eternally. Every step, every costume, every ornament on the tree. Yes, The Nutcracker could be kind of a drag.

  Except for the part of Clara. Lots of ballets showcased a single ballerina; probably most of the classic ballets did. But Clara scarcely left the stage for the entire ballet. Every dance, every scene, every moment was shaped by her point of view. It wasn’t the most physically demanding role in ballet, it wasn’t even the most demanding role in The Nutcracker—the Sugar Plum Fairy had more flash, and some companies put young girls in Clara’s part—but it was one of the most pivotal.

  It was also one that could highlight Ari’s chief weakness: her trouble fading into a role. Even so, in this company, she was obviously the best choice for the role. She had the experience and the talent, and she was coming off good notices for her performance in Phantom. With Devonny rumored to be announcing her retirement at the end of the season, Ari should be the Rhode Island Ballet’s next prima ballerina. There was no defensible reason she should be auditioning now.

  So she meant not to give Baxter any defensible reason to deny her the part. And then hope Donnie showed up to put a period on the issue.

  Her audition spot, not surprisingly, wasn’t ideal—she was the first girl of any with a real shot at the role, so she couldn’t gauge her own performance against anyone competing with her. But it didn’t matter what the other girls did. Ari would dance her legs off and leave the others to stumble around in her dust.

  When she’d auditioned routinely, she’d made a point of doing something unexpected. Showcasing her power, drawing attention to herself. Making everyone sit up and take notice. Back then, she’d stubbornly refused to accept the tactical error in that approach. Now she understood, and especially now, when there was more than simply her dancing in judgment, she meant to dance within the lines but do it perfectly. Grace as well as power.

  Today, for Baxter, she would dance the transformation solo, when the toys come to life. She would do it in a dance studio, without other dancers or set pieces to react to, but she meant to make him forget that.

  Alone in the middle of a dim dance studio, ten minutes before her audition time, Arianna danced.

  ~oOo~

  Baxter always held production auditions in the worst studio in the theatre—it was small and poorly lit, it smelled funny, and it wasn’t connected to the building’s sound system for some reason having to do with the wiring or plumbing or whatever. Dancers were reduced to using an ancient portable stereo, or they brought in their own speaker for their phones and used that. He said that a worthy dancer could shine in the worst conditions.

  Auditions for places in the company were grander affairs, and he used the stage itself during those events. But he liked to torture the dancers he’d already hired.

  Among the many reasons Ari was reluctant to fight for herself against Baxter’s abuse and advances was that he was unkind to just about everybody. Even Devonny hadn’t been immune to his nasty remarks. He picked on the girls more than the boys, but overall, he was a monstrous ass. It was simply Ari’s turn, and she had three times the focus he normally turned on his main target because Devonny’s career was over, and that had obviously fractured their love affair. Ari, positioned to step into Devonny’s pointe shoes, was enemy number one.

  On top of all that, Baxter’s dick was now free range. They’d been a couple when Ari had joined the company, but everybody knew that Baxter and Devonny had been director and protégé before they’d been lovers. Apparently, Ari was expected to step into those shoes as well. She could stop being his enemy if she’d become his lover. He’d as much as said so.<
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  But nope. She had other plans. Now that preparations for the next production were getting underway and she couldn’t avoid Baxter as easily as she had for the past few weeks, she was really hoping her other plans showed up tonight set things to rights.

  Most of the company was crammed into the audition studio. Several of the girls were auditioning, and a few had asked some of the boys to dance with them. But really, they were all there because they were nosy.

  Ari didn’t care. They were set dressing and nothing more. When the time for her audition arrived and Baxter wasn’t in the room yet, she stood alone in the center of the space, dressed in a filmy white gown Bastien had lent her from the costume department. Her hair was twisted into girly braids wrapped around her head, with a white satin ribbon woven through. She was thirty-one, but she could be Clara.

  She stood and waited, in first position, like a doll in its box, for ten minutes before Baxter stalked in. Carrying a stack of papers and a giant travel mug, he noisily dragged a chair where he wanted it and sat down. “Let’s go,” he said and put the mug to his mouth.

  Julian was ready at the little stereo. He dimmed the lights a bit and hit play on the CD player.

  Arianna danced. She let the people in the room fade out, let the smells and sights and extraneous sounds of this crappy space dwindle to vapor. She let Baxter’s impatient eyes, his uninterested posture, their tense rapport since summer, all of it waft away. She turned inward, felt every atom in her body, felt the music wind around her muscles, and she danced.

  When the music faded away, she held her final pointe position for five more seconds and then came down to first position. At her side she heard a male cheer—not Julian, but Sergei. It wasn’t usual for other dancers to applaud an audition, but Julian joined Sergei, and then the whole company cheered her. She blushed and tried a smile at Baxter. He didn’t smile back.

  But the studio door opened just then, and Donnie Goretti walked through. He wore a dark grey suit that fit him like it was genetically engineered, and a pale pink dress shirt. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and the shirt was open at the neck. He looked like a man with plans after work. Ari grinned. He grinned back.

  Baxter stood at once. “You can’t be—” He recognized Donnie then, and changed his tone and his tack. “Mr. Goretti. Can I help you?”

  Donnie ignored him and walked straight to the center of the studio. He came so close her skirt brushed the pants of his suit—there was a faint pattern in the weave—and took her hands in his. His head came close, and she had that momentary, hopeful flash that he’d kiss her, but instead he brushed his left cheek over hers, light as a whisper. Her belly quivered at the sensual graze. Almost as good as a kiss.

  Almost.

  “That was beautiful,” he said at her ear, softly, only for her. “You are beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  He squeezed her hand and turned around. “Baxter,” he said as if he’d only noticed his existence this second. “How are you?”

  “Fine, thank you. I’m sorry—should I have expected you?”

  Oh, this was brilliant. Ari had never seen the director in this condition before—if he kowtowed any more obviously to Donnie, his knees would give out.

  “No, I’m not here for you. Arianna and I have plans tonight, as soon as she’s finished here. I thought I’d come in and watch.” Turning to Ari, he said, “I tried to get here before you started, but there was traffic. I didn’t want to distract you, so I watched from the door.”

  She didn’t know if all that was a performance for Baxter, or if it was true and meant for her, but either way it was wonderful. Those mundane little details had an intimacy about them that made her fingertips tingle. She smiled and said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

  He turned back to Baxter. “So, if she’s done ...?”

  “Right, yes. Of course.” Reclaiming some of his sense of place, Baxter turned his attention to Ari. “Casting announcements tomorrow afternoon.”

  Donnie looked down at her, lifting his left eyebrow. She saw a question there and understood it: he was asking if she wanted him to push harder.

  She didn’t. Just as she wouldn’t fuck Baxter for the part, she didn’t want Donnie to actually threaten him for it, either. It wasn’t an edge she was after. She only wanted a fair decision. Turning to her director, she smiled. “I’ll be here.”

  With her hand in Donnie’s, she led him to the door. When she saw Julian, she remembered that Baxter hadn’t been their only audience, and she glanced back to see the entire company frozen in various expressions of astonishment.

  ~oOo~

  “Talk to me about Baxter,” Donnie said, resting against the dressing-room counter.

  Ari was using a locker door like a screen as she wiggled out of her costume and into her street clothes—which was dumb, since he’d seen, and been inside, her whole body, but this felt like a reboot, and she still wasn’t sure they’d be having sex again quite yet. A little reserve made sense.

  A shower would have been nice, but she didn’t know what she’d do with him while she took one. “What do you want to know about him?”

  “You know what I’m asking, Arianna.”

  She did, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him. “He’s just a jerk.”

  “Arianna.”

  There was a command in his tone she didn’t much like. She liked her impulse to obey the command even less, so she made herself say, “He’s just a jerk,” and ducked behind the locker door to get her underwear on.

  Two seconds later, he was standing right in front of her. Ari froze in the act of hooking her bra. He glanced down, taking in her nearly naked body before he met her eyes. “I think you’re tough enough to handle jerks on your own. Why did you need me for that performance?”

  He looked really, really good in that suit. His open neckline showed the base of his throat—oh, that deep depression between his collarbones, unh—and a hint of the hair on his chest, and Ari’s mouth managed to water and go dry at the same time. She forced her eyes up before the surge of lust fried a circuit. “It was just a performance?”

  His hand settled on her hip, and his fingers squeezed lightly. “Between us, no. I meant what I said to you. But for all those people in the room, it was. That’s why you wanted me here, right? To have them seem me stake a claim. Baxter Berrault in particular.”

  Put like that, it sounded slimy and craven. Abashed, she let her eyes fall from his. His fingers came to her chin and pushed gently, and she faced him again.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. It’s complicated, but the short version is he’s been making my life hard because I won’t sleep with him. You were surprised I had to audition—that’s why.” She felt the tension increase in his limbs, and she grabbed his arm before he could move. “He’s a jerk to everybody. I’m getting an extra dose right now. I don’t want you to fight this for me. I just wanted you here so he could see that I’m not alone.”

  “What about Trewson? He’s not sticking up for you?”

  Had he ever said her friend’s first name? “Julian’s just as under Baxter’s thumb as I am. If he sticks up for me, he could lose his place in the company, and it’s not like we can just go to a job fair and find another one.”

  “If he was really your friend, it wouldn’t matter. If the situation was reversed, would it matter to you?”

  That question might have occurred to her once or twice, but she never allowed herself to entertain it. She didn’t want Julian taking heat for her. When she couldn’t find words to articulate that, she simply said, “Bax has a lot of power.”

  “I have more.”

  “I know. He knows, too. So I wanted him to think it would be dangerous to keep coming at me.”

  “It would be.”

  She grinned and set her hands on his chest, under his jacket. His flinch this time was subtle; maybe he was getting used to her touch. “I like you like this.”

  “Like what?”

  �
�Invested.”

  He frowned and took a step back, out of her reach. “I hope we both know what we’re getting into. Get dressed, and we’ll get something to eat.”

  ~oOo~

  She’d remembered her little black dress and her vintage Chanel flats this time, and she hadn’t worked up so much of a sweat that she smelled funky or her hair looked mangy now that it was down. Walking into another of Providence’s finest restaurants with her hand in Donnie’s, Ari was confident. Maybe even a little proud.

  The lighting in this establishment was low, and the dark décor added to the dimming effect. Most expensive restaurants she’d been in—not that it was a long list—used lower lighting for ambiance, but Ari saw things in a new way recently. Donnie liked places like this because he didn’t stand out so much. Not in ways he didn’t want to, at least.

  In other ways, he stood out like a beacon. The staff here all knew him, and they treated them like esteemed guests, ushering them to the best table, so attentive that every need was met before it had even been fully realized. None of these servers and hosts looked away from Donnie. In his own world, his wealth and power were a mask he could wear and be seen for himself.

  After they ordered and had another bottle of expensive wine at their table—mental note to drink this one more slowly—Donnie rested his arms on the table and said, “Who is Jeremiah?”

  As always, the sound of that name struck her broadside. Tonight, now, from Donnie, the name had barbs, and Ari responded more sharply than she meant to. “No. If all you’re going to do tonight is interview me about men who’ve been jerks to me, I’ll just go home now. This is not how I want to have a date with you. Or anybody.”

  “He’s another ‘jerk’?”

  He had an uncanny knack for ruining perfect moments. “Jerk, assaulter. Tomayto tomahto. Almost every woman I know has at least one of them in their past, and the rest have one in their future. I’m not talking about it. Ever.” She reached for her bag, because she really did mean to leave if he pushed this point. Her best defense against what that man had done to her, and all the people who’d leaned on her to let him get away with it, was to never talk or think about it or him. Period. If Donnie couldn’t leave her control of her own mind, then Julian was right and she was a fool for giving him another chance.