Page 28 of The Virgin's Dance
“Hell, yes. You know, I have a confession.”
Boh grinned at the mischievous look in his eyes. “Oh, yes?”
“When I was married to Genie, we used to go to the ballet … but as soon as they started, I would go off and do something else. I’ve never actually seen a performance.”
“Pilot Tiffany Scamo, you dirty rotten scoundrel!”
Pilot busted out laughing. “Tiffany?”
“What, it’s Richard Gere’s middle name.” Boh shrieked with laughter as Pilot tickled her into submission. “Anyway, what is your middle name?”
“Joseph. Yours?”
“I don’t have one.” Boh nibbled at his earlobe as he pulled her onto his lap. “So, you’ve never seen a ballet, huh?”
“Nope. But to answer your original question, yes, I’d love to come toRubieswith you. I’ll get us a box.”
“Fancy.” She kissed his cheek as he snagged the phone from his pocket and called the Lincoln Center, grinning as he dropped his name without hesitation.
“One box reserved for Mr. Pilot Scamo and his beautiful guest, superstar ballerina, Boheme Dali.”
Boh stroked his curls away from his face, his devastatingly handsome face, and kissed him gently. “His lover, Boh, thanks Mr. Pilot Scamo, and asks politely if he wouldn’t mind very much fucking her again, right here, right now.”
Pilot grinned as he laid her back on the couch. “Anything the prima wants, the prima gets …” and they began to make love again.
Kristof poured himself a mug of coffee and looked up as Celine Peletier entered the staffroom. She nodded to him, unsmiling as always. Miserable bitch. He’d never liked the other woman, probably because Celine was the most exquisite dancer he’d ever seen, and she knew her shit now as a teacher. Plus, the company of dancers adored her, even when she was at her most strident.
Also, he knew Celine thought of him as a boy, an amateur despite his prestigious career. His heroes—Baryshnikov, Nureyev, Vasiliev—all had careers after dancing and Kristof wanted his to be as impressive as theirs. He knew Celine, Nell, Liz … none of them believed he was at that standard, but he was determined to prove them wrong.
“Good morning, Celine.”
She looked up as if she was deep in thought. “Kristof. Oh, I hear I’m to thank you.”
“Because?”
“Elliott told me you and he managed to reroute Eleonor back to her studio a few afternoons ago. I do hope she wasn’t intruding on … anything.”
Kristof went cold. Sheknew. “No, not at all,” he said, keeping his expression blank.
“Well, thank you.” She sighed and sat down opposite him. “Eleonor is getting more and more confused. I think it may be time for her for give up her teaching all together.”
“That’s a tragedy,” Kristof said carefully. His body relaxed a little. “After such an illustrious career.”
“Indeed.” Celine stared out of the window and Kristof was astonished to see tears in her eyes. “They call it sundowning; did you know that? Such a pretty name for such a terrible thing. Eleonor has her moments of clarity but they are less and less. Sometimes she will remember the most random things from weeks and weeks ago and she’ll talk with absolute surety about them. Then the next moment …” Celine made a motion in the air. “Nothing. Sorry, Kristof, it’s none of your concern.”
The constricting fear had already returned and he just nodded stiffly as Celine left the room, but he didn’t have a moment to process what he’d learned because Liz’s secretary came to find him. “She wants to see you.”
Ten minutes later he walked out of Liz’s office, stunned. Not only had she told him that hisSex and Deathshowcase was being moved from their own theater to the Metropolitan Opera, but that she had authorized a bigger budget for … everything. Sets, costumes … he had free rein.
Kristof had shaken his head in disbelief. “Why?”
“We’ve had a significant donation—anonymous. But on the condition that you are given a large part of it for your new piece. You have a fan, Kristof.”
He should have felt elated; after all, wasn’t this every choreographer’s dream? But now, knowing what he knew about Eleonor Vasquez … she could bring it all down. All of it.
He couldn’t let that happen. He knew what he had to do.
Chapter Thirteen
