CHAPTER ONE - HARPER
Harper’sheartpoundedsohard against her chest that she heard the roar of it in her ears, even above the chatter of a hundred other dancers. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, but only inhaled the heavy scents of baby powder and hairspray. She couldn’t believe she was going through with it.
She had stood in line for four hours to get in, all the while telling herself that this was a terrible idea. And on the walk over to the theatre this morning, while feeling eyes on the back of her neck, convinced someone was following her, she nearly ran for the safety of her office. She stood here, despite this being a terrible idea. Dancing had been absent from her life long enough. Oh, she had her adult ballet classes, and she kept in shape with her CrossFit training sessions but it wasn’t the same as being on stage. The anticipation made her palms sweat.
Her feet were on the stage floor, and she stood straight and tall as the director marched on stage and welcomed them to the audition forCanada’s Best Dancer.He split them up into groups. She ended up being in group “C,” and then the choreographer came on the stage and showed them the first routine.
Committing the routine to memory was the simple part. Getting her body to execute the steps with some artistry was the challenge because it wasn’t in a studio where she spent her days but in an office, following her boss from department to department, making sure everyone had what they needed, from the Tech Team needing special wristbands to Team Stealth having the newest non-military Kevlar coated tactical pants that they could get their hands on, the cost not being an issue. She was good at her job, but it wasn’t where she’d thought she would end up.
She had thought she would be like these other dancers here, maybe with an international company, maybe even as a principal dancer or touring in a stage production as part of the chorus. Dancing on stage was all she dreamed about, following in her mother’s footsteps. After they tried out the routine, they cleared the stage for the first dancers to take their turn.
Pushing down the rise of emotion, Harper waited in the wings with the rest of her group. Her work was interesting and challenging and made her happy mostly, but it wasn’t what she was born to do. Life had come in like a wicked tsunami, wrecking everything she held dear.
But she was here now, and she threw her shoulders back, kept her head up, and glided onto the stage with her group. There were a thousand reasons she shouldn’t be here, like the TV cameras that panned the room for their promo shots. But when the music started, Harper didn’t care. Losing herself in the steps of the contemporary routine, her body, even out of practice, knew what to do.
Before the tsunami of destruction, dancing had made her feel free, a moving part in something boundless, and for the sixty seconds of this first routine, that feeling infused her limbs again.
The music stopped, and the director walked down the rows. “Cut,” he said to the girl next to Harper, then “Cut” to the girl on the other side of her. As he passed, Harper exhaled. She was still in this.
“Wave at the camera for me,” the producer said, as Harper took her place in the wings again.
Ignoring the churning in her stomach, Harper flashed a grin.
“How does it feel to get through that first routine?” the woman asked.
“It feels amazing! I’m so thrilled.” Harper offered the woman a smile, twirling on the spot.
“Thanks,” the producer said and moved on to another of her row mates.
Three hours later, she was packing up her dance bag in disbelief about making it through to the solo round.
Other than feeling slightly guilty about lying to the producers by ensuring them she would be available for interviews, she felt great. For the first time in seven years, she had accomplished something all on her own.
Coming out of the changing room, Harper smoothed down her sunflower-covered pencil skirt and tucked in her black high collar blouse. Refreshing her lipstick, she pulled her long mahogany hair into a ponytail and exited the theatre into the grey drizzling November afternoon, turning on her phone as she walked.
Immediately, her phone started buzzing. She was never offline, certainly not for most of the day, and she knew her assistant Claudia could only cover for her for so long without questions. Harper started walking down the main street. Work was only a few blocks away, and it was easier to walk there than hail a cab.
Her skin started tingling. She checked the windows of the buildings she passed by, using them as a mirror to glance about her, reassuring herself that nobody was following her. It was all in her head. Years of looking over her shoulder made her paranoid.
Crossing the street, Harper looked over her shoulder, but it was only other people in the crowd going on with their day.
Reaching the street where Axis Management stood proudly, like a contemporary modern art piece, all in black glass and sleek materials, Harper slowed down.
“Harper! Harper!”
Harper turned at the familiar voice. “Josie, hi.”
“You walk so fast! Where were you coming from?” Josie stopped, leaning on her crutch.
“I had an appointment,” Harper said. “What brings you by?”
“I was hoping to catch Ares, but there is no way into the building. I tried calling him but couldn’t get through.”
“They prefer it that way,” Harper said with a smile. “Ares should be on a plane flying home. Do you want to come up with me?”
“No, if he’s not in, there’s no point. It’s just…” Josie looked away, running her hands through her short black hair. “One business he sent my way cancelled their contract with us, and I wanted to know if he knew why.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Harper said. Josie was sweet as the pies her catering company made, and Harper knew it was uncomfortable for her to ask for help.
