Page 13 of Dance for Me
The club only has one full day off, and it should be used to recharge and see friends. It shouldn’t be a day I spend counting down the hours until I can go to sleep, knowing when I wake up, I get to see her. It’s like a compulsion, an addiction, a need. To see her before anyone else can get to her, barefaced and glowing. Before she puts on the mask ofCirqueowner and business tycoon.
I watch her as often as I can during meetings and rehearsals, desperate to see if anyone else makes the apple of her cheeks rosy or coaxes out a gentle smile. Not a smirk, or a grin, or a way to bare her fangs.A full happy smile on Harper is different. Those are for when the club gets good news or Sadie whispers a funny joke into her sister’s ear. But this smile,mysmile. It’s the kind of smile that is pulled out of you, regardless of how hard you fight to keep it buried. The kind that comes from your soul and blankets those around you in sunshine.
And it’s only forme.
Two weeks of walking together every morning, and I think I have told her more about my life than anyone who doesn’t share some level of DNA. Granted, I’ve had a lot of time to chat, since Harper hasn’t exactly been participating in this one-sided conversation. I’ve told her about my parents and siblings, nieces and nephews who have declared me their favorite uncle, becauseduh. I learned early on that bribing them with sweets and toys their own parents won’t get them was the most effective method. My name is equivalent to a swear word in thathouse every time my nieceEmma practices her ‘drumming’, if you can call it that, but it was totally worth it.
I know she’s listening to every word I say, even if she still wants to pretend she isn’t. I even tested it once, to see how much progress I was making, stopping a story just before the juicy bit to see if she would take the bait. After a moment, when I didn’t continue, she looked at me with a mixture of hatred and curiosity. A question brimming on the tip of her tongue, but my stubborn girl wouldn’t bring herself to ask, unwilling to cross that line and admit she might evenlikemy company.
She still wears headphones while we walk, but I’ve noticed more than once that there is no music playing on her phone. She usually doesn’t even bother to open her phone until our walk is over and she heads to the back where the boxing equipment lies. Only then does her body start to shift with whatever song is playing as she wraps her wrists and dons her gloves. She never starts while I’m there though, waiting for me to depart before she takes the first swing. Like watching her let loose is too intimate.
I can see her in my head, eyes closed as she gently rocks to a beat and I mimic the movement, abandoning the vacuum in the middle of the carpet. The song shifts and my movements change with it, my hips swaying and butt shaking. I pull one ankle behind the other before twisting around to face my kitchen and front door.
I stop dead in my tracks, phone in one hand and dignity in the other, while James leans against my kitchen island facing me while he starts to slow clap.
“Man, you truly did miss your calling,” he laughs, a shit-eating grin marring his features as I pull the headphones out of my ears.
“You wish I moved like that for you,” I say, throwing a wink over my shoulder as I toss my phone on the couch and walk into the kitchen to join him, leaning against the other side ofthe island. “I’ll also remind you that I’m an assistant, not a dancer.”
“Thank God for that,” he jokes, sitting down on one of the stools and resting his elbows on the marble. “So, how’s it going? How are you handling the uh…shift in position,” he’s smiling, still not quite done laughing at the circumstances around how I got this new position.
“Is that why you dropped by unannounced with the key I gave you foremergencies,” I lift a brow in question, “To look after my well-being?”
“And to critique your shimmy,” he smirks, “But really, I haven’t heard from you much since starting other than a one-word text here and there. Half the time you don’t even respond until the next day or later.”
I’m obviously not going to tell him that between waking up so early and the non-stop commotion of the day, I can’t keep my eyes open past eight o’clock. I’m not ignoring him, but I don’t think a tornado could wake me up once my head hits the pillow these days.
“It hasn’t been too bad. Most of the staff have been really welcoming, the performance manager is tough and works his people hard, but he gets shit done. The bar manager keeps flirting with me, but who can blame her,” I wink at him. “Everyone’s been welcoming, but it’s weird, the women have been almost…too polite?” I tell him, thinking back to how the demeanor from the other men hasn’t changed much, but the women have been going almost out of their way to not talk to me since I had to awkwardly let Hannah down.
“Maybe she told them you’re an asshat,” he chuckles as I reach over and lightly smack his shoulder.
“Did see one weird interaction though,” I tell him, rubbing the back of my neck while I play over the scene in my head, trying to remember all the details.
“With the women? Did they see you dance? Would explain why they are keeping their distance.”
“No,” I roll my eyes. “With one of the performers, a fire breather named Ben,” I correct.
“So weird you work somewhere where that’s a totally normal job title,” he shakes his head in disbelief. Still sounds weird to me too, buddy.
I tell James about the incident between Ben and Marcus, the tension at odds with the rest of the interactions between the cast that I’ve seen. Even when employees have disagreements, nothing has been like that fight and escalation. Fallon seemed shaken, but not entirely surprised by the way Ben had behaved. Come to think of it, neither did Marcus, which means it probably wasn’t an isolated event, especially given Fallon said his mood has gotten worse and worse.
“Do you know what Marcus said to him, or if he was in trouble for it?” James asks. Seeing as he was sidelined for his performance, I want to say yes. But I think that was because of his lack of commitment to the rest of the team and his inability to show up for rehearsals on time, less about that particular fight.
“I didn’t hear the conversation, Marcus pulled him into his office for the lashings,” I tell him, bringing my arm back and forward quickly, making awhipsound to accompany the motion.
James’ eyes go comically wide, probably imaginingCirqueas the type of seedy place that truly would dole out physical punishments. Despite me being in this positionbecauseof him, he wasn’t exactly keen on me taking the job when the time came.
“Hope he used the big cane,” I say lifting my hand to hide my grin behind my palm as James’ face pales. “Jesus, calm down I’m kidding. He probably just yelled at him. A solid lecture and honestly, he probably asked him what was goingon, knowing Marcus. One of the girls, actually the only one who talks to me, told me he’s been a starring role since he started, so whatever has been going on with him, its relatively new. At least for affecting his work life.”
“What do you think it is?” Now the amusement is completely gone from the conversation. I can see James regretting his involvement in me working forCirque.
“Honestly, he looked like he was on something. Some kind of upper maybe? He was keyed up and ready to fight.”
“I mean, who is surprised by that?” he scoffs. “Mathers is as shady as they come. Those private rooms sound like a haven for blow and ecstasy, and God knows what else.”
I feel my body involuntarily stiffen at the words associated with Harper.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. When I first started, they made me do a drug test, and I had to sign paperwork acknowledging that if I was caught with anything like that on the premises, it was grounds for immediate dismissal.”
