Page 5 of Tension
Some of the things she’s stating were just rumors. I didn’t have any affairs with coaches that I could remember, and inappropriate relations are something that happens all the time in our world. She should know, it’s how she met her husband. I bow my head, taking each accusation like a blow to my soul and letting them find their mark as it withers even more. “Rumors are out of my control.” I lift my head to find her frigid stare once more. “But I can appreciate your need to protect the reputation of your studio. I apologize if my presence today has tarnished it in any way. Forgive me for coming.”
With my hand to my chest, I let my sincerity shine from my eyes before turning around and walking steadily toward the door I came in from. As soon as my hand meets the cold metal of the door handle, I hear Greyson’s voice as he whispers Vaeda’s name harshly. I open the door without a backward glance and step back into the studio, closing it behind me softly. It was worth the chance, but it’s clear not enough time has passed for forgiveness.
With a nod to the others, I leave the studio and head back down the hallway toward the building’s entrance. Time is a fickle thing, and even though time will erase my actions, it will also steal from me the future I long for.
Just as I’m stepping out onto the cold streets, the sound of my name being called gives me pause. I turn to find Greyson jogging toward me, his silk dress pants flowing with each hurried step. “Don’t walk away,” he pants as he stops in front of me. “You are a talented dancer, one many still speak of, and you can redeem yourself.”
“Thank you,” I mutter as a cold breeze brushes by my face, making me grit my teeth against the onslaught. “I appreciate you giving me a chance.”
“I’m not just giving you a chance, Mateo.” He smiles, his eyes shining with mischief. “I’m giving you a spot.”
“What?” I let go of the door as his hand presses to the glass, preventing it from closing fully.
“Classes start in two days. Be here at six o’clock in the evening.”
“But Vaeda—”
“She is not the sole owner of this studio,” he states as he stands a little straighter. “We each were to choose two people, and you are one of my choices. Don’t make me regret it.” He finally steps back as I watch the door shut, the glass pane reflecting my shock back at me. It’s a few minutes later when the frost on my cheeks snaps me out of my trance.
I didn’t even dance.
THREE
Vaeda
“You’re a goddamn fool, Greyson,” I snap as I close the studio doors for the night. “We’re trying to keep this place open, not invite more scandal.”
“You can’t deny the talent that man has,” he retorts as I roll my eyes and stride back into the studio. “We could put ourselves on the map with him.”
“Or he could burn it all to the ground with no one else to blame but ourselves!” I bellow as I turn on him, making him stumble back a few steps. “He’s a drug addict, hedonist, and there’s no amount of money his family can pay to make any of it disappear! We might as well douse this place in gasoline and light the match now.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Vae.” Greyson walks around me through the interview room, opening the door to our joint office. I follow behind him, my heels hitting the hardwood floor with purpose. “He looked clean and repentant.”
I scoff loudly as he sits at his desk, his arms crossing over his chest as he awaits my barrage of complaints. He doesn’tunderstand how much of my legacy is tied to this building. The blood, sweat, and tears I’ve endured over my career, only to have it end in an inferno of flames because he wants to play God and hand out forgiveness. “Please rescind his invitation.”
“What if you could have one more dance? One more competition? Would you grasp it with both hands, or would you turn your back?” He leans forward, his face eager for my response.
My heart slams up into my throat as instant longing coats my insides. I would give anything to be on a competitive dance floor again. “I didn’t squander my future, Grey, I was robbed of it.” I turn from him and fall into my chair, the motion lacking my usual grace. Achilles tendonitis cut my career short, and even though I can still dance, I’m limited to a studio instead of the rigorous training for competitions.
“We’ve all made choices without considering the consequences, especially as young adults. I believe he deserves a second chance, and think about how our studio would soar. The buzz would be journalists’ ambrosia, and we will once again be on the map.” The energy of his excitement hits me square in the chest, but the moment it comes in contact with me, it fizzles and dies.
Greyson Ford III was a world champion on the dance floor many times over. His old-money name did him no favors when his family disowned him for his sexual orientation. He didn’t wallow for a second. Instead, he took a suitcase of his belongings and left his castle in England to become a worldwide known dancer, throwing his success in his family’s faces. Greyson is the epitome of turning lemons into lemonade.
“You’ve picked him and Yvonne, and although she was a remarkable dancer, you have no idea if they will even be compatible.” It’s the last complaint I have, hoping his rigid need for perfection on the dance floor will shine through.
“If they are not, I will replace her.” His flippant response has me straightening in my chair as I stare at him, my anger rising once again.
“You would kick an aspiring dancer with impeccable technique out of the program for a junkie?” I snarl, my words punctuated with my ire.
“Former junkie, Vae,” he corrects me as he turns in his chair to look me in the eyes. “It’s astonishing you’re admitting to her impeccable technique when all you did was criticize her for the entire interview and dance number.”
“Yeah, well, you know we were taught to never believe we are the best.” I wave him off as he chuckles, the sound bringing a smirk to my mouth. “We’ve worked so hard for this place, and I’d hate to see that kid ruin it completely.”
“He’s a man, Vae.” He gets a twinkle in his eyes as I roll mine. “An attractive one at that.”
“You never could resist a pretty face,” I grumble as he gets up out of his chair to come toward me, his arms reaching out to pull me into his chest.
“I promise not to let him fuck this up. His face will give us the notoriety this place needs to bring in the money. Vae, we need the money,” he stresses as I shove him off me and brush his lingering scent off my blouse. “Think of what it could mean for us to enter the competitive circuit again.”
