As if preparing for a speech, he stands up from his chair and rolls his shoulders back. The server, approaching our table with the pie, immediately changes course and retreats to the kitchen.
Cyrille looks around accusingly. "It seems I must remind you what this is all about." He slips a finger under his tie knot to loosen it. "Nothing less than the reputation of the Académie de Nouvelle Danse Paris."
Madame Durand straightens up. "Of course..."
"Every year, I invest a small fortune in this academy. In return, I expect fresh talents who will conquer the stages of the world," he continues without letting the boss finish her sentence.
I nod. His goals are well-known to all of us. He doesn't care about the dancers themselves; he only cares about hisacademy being recognized as the source of the greatest stars for competitions, shows, and television.
He wants to build a legacy here.
"Now, today, we have discovered such a talent. Even I, as a layman, recognized that the young girl is a rough diamond," he says, his cheeks turning a heated red. Then he turns to me. "I don't care at all why you stormed the dance floor today, Monsieur Rousseau. I couldn't care less about your jealous colleagues—and they are obviously jealous." With his index finger, he points first at David, then at Madame Durand, who hurriedly smoothes the tablecloth.
I can tell she wants to defend herself, but she doesn't. Normally, she alone decides the course of action with an assertiveness that brooks no opposition. Now, she seems like a schoolgirl who has done something wrong and fears punishment.
Her behavior further fuels Cyrille's intensity. "The girl will be accepted."
Oh. My. God.
David gasps for breath. Juli enthusiastically nods to our sponsor. Madame Durand's mouth corners twitch uncontrollably.
And me?
I feel like I'm sitting in a scene where I don't belong. As if I were an extra who sees what's happening but isn't part of it myself.
Seconds pass, and no one says anything. Only when Cyrille sits down again does the tension subside.
"What are you waiting for?" he snaps at the boss. "Carry on."
She hastily lowers her gaze to her folder. "Um..." Her pen hovers over the documents. "Couple number forty-four." She straightens up and raises her chin boldly. "Juli, you begin."
