I smile lightly. “Yeah, sorry. Just off in my own world. I think I need to eat something.”
She scrounges around her duffel bag for a protein bar and offers one to me. “Here you go. We can’t have you passing out. That would be really bad for everybody.”
I accept it, sucking in a deep breath. “Thanks, Ella.”
Shouldering my bag, I glance over to see where Calum is. He’s already gone; he’s spent the last couple of days in meetings, trying to figure out how to keep his business alive now that he’s punched Jack Schwartz in the face.
Ella walks out of the dance studio with me, stretching once we are in the echoing hallway. Eric comes up right behind us, grinning.
“Guess what? My friend Crispin has been accepted here. I guess they had too many people that quit.”
I tilt my head at Eric. “Oh?”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Yeah. Everybody that just did the final audition is now a NYB dancer. I mean, until they get yelled at by Calum Fordham, at least.”
He rolls his eyes and pulls a face. My cheeks warm a bit.
Ella cocks her head. “When will we get to meet the new dancers? Tomorrow?”
Eric grins, holding up his cell phone. “As it so happens, I just texted Crispin and he said he would meet us outside.”
He sounds so excited as we head down the hall. A petty little voice in the back of my head wonders if Eric would be so excited if it was me that had just got accepted.
I can’t imagine that he would be. Then again, I think I might have only even gotten in because I’m fucking one of the judges.
I duck my head and blush as we put our coats on and head outside. Now I’m wondering how much of my current career I owe to Calum and how much I owe to years upon years of practice. Did I screw some more talented ballerina out of a spot?
“Crispin!” Eric calls.
I look up and see a group of dancers turn and look over at us. My step falters as I see that Manon is among them, her gleaming brunette hair in a perfect bun, her lilac leotard and hot pink leg warmers looking chic. She notices me right away, her expression going from a smirk to a glare in three seconds flat.
“Uh uh,” Ella says, reaching out her hand to pull me to a stop about ten feet away from Manon. She raises her voice. “Don’t infect the new guys with your sickness, Manon. No ballet bullies need apply.”
Manon crosses her arms, her glare now encompassing us both. “Well, if it isn’t Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Can’t Dance.”
Eric steps in front of us, ready to defend us. But Ella isn’t about to let anyone talk badly about her. She silences him with a gesture.
“You and I have always had a problem with each other, Manon. You don’t like my skin color. I don’t like trifling little white girls with sticks up their asses. But now you’re here at my company, about to trick the new people into thinking you are worth something. I am just not ready for that today.”
Manon folds her arms across her chest and tosses her head with a smirk. “And yet, here I am. I’m more talented than the three of you combined, so…”
One of her group steps toward us, sliding Manon a look. He’s short and very pale, with pale blond features and a bright yellow track suit on. “I’ve seen you dance when you were still in the academy,” he says, shrugging. “It was only okay.”
Eric glances back at me, jerking his head at the guy. “That’s Crispin.”
Manon regards him flatly. “You only made the cut because you’re a teensy, tiny male dancer, okay? Run along now, let the big kids talk.”
Crispin’s cheeks grow violently red. “You’re a fucking bitch!”
“Okay!” I call, motioning to Crispin. “Come on. I have found that with Manon, it’s best not to feed the beast. Your hate just eggs her on. Let’s go grab a coffee or something.”
I hold out a hand and stare at Crispin. He looks at me, taking me in, and swallows. For a second, I think he’s going to go right back to yelling at Manon.
But he doesn’t. Crispin walks straight over to me, gives me a once over, and then grabs me. I’m taken by surprise when he spins me into his arms and dips me, ending with a passionate kiss.
I freeze as he manhandles me, blinking. This close, Crispin’s hands are clammy and his track suit has the distinct odor of moth balls. I bring my hands up and give his chest a push.
Only then does he pull me back up and release me. I stare at him, stunned.
