Variation: Chapter 19

WestCoastPointe: Not going to lie, I would die for an invite to the MBC gala.

This place was a black-tie zoo disguised as an art museum. I wove my way through the checkerboard-dressed crowd, and along what I hoped would be the narrowest exhibition hall, careful not to bump into anyone or spill any of the thirty-dollar martinis they were carrying.

I cataloged every face I saw.

“Hudson!” Anne waved from the end of the hall, and I slowly made my way to her. “I’m glad you made it.” Her smile held an edge of nerves. “Allie’s in a meeting with Vasily, otherwise she would have met you herself.”

“Sorry I’m late.” I fought the urge to adjust my tie. “I meant to come down with Allie yesterday, but one of the other swimmers fell off a ladder and broke his leg, and another’s wife went into labor, so I got called in from leave.”

“Don’t care.” She patted my arm as we walked into the center of the museum, an open space easily five stories high, lined with balconies in galleries on the other floors. Round tables for ten filled the floor, with the exception of what was clearly a stage on the far end of the hall. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Do you like it?” She gestured to the room. “I spent the last eight months designing the color scheme. I figured the dark-pink lighting would look great since everyone is dressed for the white-and-black theme. And I think I went through a dozen sample centerpieces before I decided on the orchids and dahlias.”

“It looks spectacular.” I offered what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “And you look great too.”

“Thank you.” She glanced down at her long white dress, then smiled. “Do you need a crash course on who everyone is? Kenna’s around here somewhere. She’s Allie’s closest friend, so I’m sure she’d help you out. Actually, I’m not sure. She might watch you fumble just for the fun of it.”

“I think I’m good.” I shook my head, and she led me past most of the tables. “I checked the website, and Allie’s been quizzing me with photos off her phone every time I pick up Juniper. Though I’m pretty sure I saw a couple of movie stars back by the exhibit who weren’t on her camera roll.”

“Don’t worry, they’re not in the Company,” she teased. “Word of advice, if you think you’re supposed to know someone and you don’t, just tell them you’re a huge fan of their work, but don’t get specific.” She walked us around the edge of the three-foot-high stage, and to the bottom of a wide staircase flanked on both sides with art. “She should be out right about—there she is! Mission accomplished; I will see you later.” Anne walked away.

I looked up the staircase and tried not to swallow my damned tongue as Allie descended ahead of two men, looking back over her shoulder in conversation.

She was sheer perfection.

Her long black dress looked like it had been poured onto her curves, then gathered at the left side of her waist, and then—fuck me—sliced clean open from the curve of her hip to the floor, exposing the impossibly long line of her leg with every step. She’d pinned one side of her hair back behind her ear, and left the rest down, the waves brushing over the tiny straps of her dress and the heart-shaped neckline that lifted her breasts up like appetizers.

I was suddenly starving.

She faced forward, and her eyes flared as she saw me. Head to toe, her gaze raked over me in clear appreciation, her lips parting as she slowed her steps, pausing so we were the same height. “Hudson.”

“You look like a fucking dream, Allie.” A dream that, for the next few hours, I was not only allowed but encouraged to touch. I palmed her waist and tugged her against my chest, hovering my mouth inches from hers. “Truly breathtaking.” I brushed my lips over hers, careful not to smudge her makeup.

“Thank you.” A corner of her mouth tilted as I set her safely back on her step. “You look entirely too good in a tux to ever wear one in public again.”

Even knowing she was just playing the role, I couldn’t help but grin.

“Ugh. Especially when you do that.” She stroked my dimple with the tip of her finger.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” The taller of the two men reached the bottom of the steps. The lights turned his silver hair and pale skin a pinkish hue. “Vasily Koslov, artistic director of the Metropolitan Ballet Company.”

“Hudson Ellis,” I replied, shaking his soft hand.

“Ah! Alessandra’s new boyfriend!” He gave a polished grin that made me think everyone in Allie’s ballet company went to the same smile class. “You’re the subject of quite a bit of gossip in the building. Hope you won’t mind when we steal her back come the fall.”

“Whatever makes her happy makes me happy.” Gossip?

“Now that’s the right answer when you’re dating someone as extraordinary as Alessandra.” He sent an adoring look her way. “Have to admit, I had my doubts when you said you were bringing someone. I know how you are in love affairs”—he lowered his voice playfully—“which is why I told Anna to make sure his card still said guest, just in case you changed your mind.”

My eyebrows rose. What a weird-ass detail to pay attention to.

“Anne,” Allie corrected him with a flash of teeth. “And Hudson and I go back over a decade. You could have put his name on the card.”

“No matter.” His gaze shifted to the left, and his smile deepened as he raised his arm. “Ah, my dear.” A woman with black-and-silver hair went to his side, her arm wrapping around his waist as his did hers. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Danica, the Company’s executive director. Dani, this is our Alessandra’s current beau. He’s a lifeguard or something.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Good thing my ego wasn’t fragile.

“Coast Guard rescue swimmer,” Allie clarified, her smile still sharp. “He jumps out of helicopters and rescues people when their boats sink.” She moved down a step and shifted her clutch to the other hand to lace her fingers with mine, and it was all I could do not to lean in and kiss the shit out of her. “It’s actually one of the hardest jobs in the world. Most people never qualify, let alone make it through training.”

“How remarkable!” Danica tipped her head my direction. “Do you save many people?”

“From time to time.” I nodded.

“He saved me,” Allie said, her thumb stroking along mine. “That’s how we met when we were kids.”

“Charming.” Danica patted Vasily’s arm. “Darling, we really should say hello to the Jemonds before the performance starts. They’re already chatting with Maxim, and they’re such big donors that it would be a mistake not to.”

“Duty calls.” Vasily smiled at Allie. “I cannot wait to have you back in the building and gracing the stage. This fall will be your triumph.” He glanced at the guy standing close to Allie, who appeared entirely comfortable occupying her personal space. “Both of your triumphs. I can’t express how much I’m looking forward to showing the world what you two have created.”

“Thank you,” Allie replied, color flushing her cheeks.

“Now that you’ve met the old man and the walking prenup he calls a wife”—the guy bounded down the last two steps and thrust out his hand—“I’m Isaac Burdan.”

I shook his hand, glancing over his short black curls, golden brown complexion, and blinding smile, placing him instantly from Allie’s pictures. “The choreographer. Nice to meet you.”

He laughed as his hand fell away, his gaze darting to Allie. “Is that all you’ve told him? How fascinating. Well, I’m off to find a celebratory drink,” he told me, then turned back to Allie. The softening of his expression told me the details Allie had left out. “You headed back to the beach tomorrow?”

She nodded. “I’ll be back before September for rehearsals.”

“I will count the days with bated breath.” He picked up her free hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. Acid rose in my throat. “New York’s shine is but a glimmer until you return to make it sparkle again, Alessandra.” One last smile, and he disappeared into the crowd.

What the actual fuck?

“Sorry.” Allie stepped off the last stair, her heels bringing her nearly to my chin. “He can be a little much, but he’s truly brilliant.”

“Did he talk to you like that in bed?” My brow furrowed.

“What?” Her mouth dropped open for the slightest second. “And take that look off your face.”

“What look?”

“You look like you just caught a whiff of a trash pile in the middle of July.”

It was a pretty accurate description of how I felt. “Seriously, though. That’s what does it for you? Bated breath and glimmers? Let me guess—he doesn’t tell you he’s about to come, he declares that he’s arriving.”

Allie snorted but stopped tantalizingly short of a laugh, then batted her eyelashes at me. “And I suppose you’re more of the first variety? Have to warn a girl that she’d better rev her own engine because your race ends before the first turn? Or are you the silent, grunty kind?”

Oh, she had jokes, did she?

I yanked our laced hands against my chest, whipped my arm around her waist, and turned, pressing her against the wall on the far side of the staircase, just short of a plaque marking a piece of artwork. “Want to skip the rest of the gala and find out? I promised you hours, if I remember correctly.”

Her breath stuttered and her gaze dropped to my mouth. “We can’t.”

Not “I don’t want to.” Interesting.

“No need to rev your own engine unless you want to.” I lowered my head to hers. “You’ll come at least twice before I fuck you, Allie,” I promised. “I’m far from silent, and I know how to use my mouth to ensure you aren’t either.”

Her pupils dilated and the color in her cheeks shone red even under the pink lighting as she opened her mouth, then shut it.

“Now, should we go do whatever it is you do at these things?” I had to put at least a couple of inches between us, or these pants were going to start cutting off circulation to my dick.

She nodded slowly, and I backed up, keeping her fingers entwined with mine as we faced the growing crowd of people finding their seats.

“Our table is this way,” she said as we walked into the crush. “I should have warned you about Isaac. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t exactly hand over a list of the women I’ve slept with either.”

“At least none of them are in the same room with us.” She gave a fake smile and wave to someone who called her name.

“That you know of.” I dodged some drunk asshat who stumbled backward, then angled my body so he didn’t bump into Allie.

She looked up at me with raised brows.

“Relax. I’m kidding.” I shrugged. “Maybe, since I haven’t seen the guest list or anything. Why? Does the thought of me having slept with someone here bother you?” The aisle cleared, and we started walking again.

“Does the fact that I’ve slept with at least two of the men in this room bother you?” she countered.

A slight twinge of jealousy tightened my collar. “Are you planning on sleeping with them while we’re together?”

“This isn’t real,” she whispered as we passed another table at the edge of the stage.

“Semantics. Answer the question.” I tucked her close to my side when the crowd thickened again.

“No.” She shook her head. “Once I’m done with someone, I’m done. I don’t like things . . . messy. It’s one of the reasons I only date dancers. Same lifestyle, same schedule, same priorities. No mess.”

“We’re messy, and you like me just fine when you forget you still hate me.” Keeping my hands off her tonight was going to be fucking impossible.

“We’re messy because I lo—” She shook her head, and I stared at her long enough that I nearly collided with two women who weren’t watching where they were going either. “I cared about you. That was a mistake I never made again. Sex is fun—necessary, even—and keeping the same partner allows for a certain level of comfort I prefer. But I don’t get jealous because I don’t get attached.”

She probably meant it as a statement, but I heard it as a warning.

“Which works out because Vasily doesn’t want you to,” I noted.

“He likes me focused—likes all of us focused.” She pointed ahead. “That’s our table, just beyond the one in the center. And now you’re ducking the question.”

“I realized something during that kiss.” We passed the center table. “Not the first, when you caught me off guard, but the second—”

“I know what kiss you’re talking about,” she interrupted.

“Good.” A grin crept across my face, and I spotted our place cards. “It hit me that it didn’t matter if the first one was fake, because that one was real. It doesn’t matter who had your first, or my first . . . anything.” We stopped behind our chairs, and I picked up my card. Alessandra Rousseau Guest. My chest tightened. The guest somehow bothered me more than the choreographer had. Vasily had given the direction, but Anne had still printed it as if she hadn’t believed Allie would actually bring me.

“Firsts are overrated,” Allie said, setting her clutch on her chair.

Guest. My chest burned like a struck match at the sudden awareness that I wanted my name on that card. I didn’t want to be some anonymous, fleeting, erasable guest in her life like the others who had come before me. I wanted to be engraved, etched, and carved so deeply into her soul that she’d never get me out.

She’d given me her fake summer, but I wanted it all, and my heart didn’t seem to care how unattainable that was. I was just going to have to find a way to make it possible.

“Glad we agree.” I nodded to myself, then set the card down and turned to Allie. “So while sure, it makes me jealous that there are a couple of guys here who have seen you naked, I actually feel sorry for them because they’ll never have you again.” I tugged her close and let the words fly like the revelation they were. “But I will. First means nothing. Last means everything.”

And that right there is why you get called reckless.

“You can’t say things like that to me.” Her fingers curled around the lapels of my jacket. “Even for show,” she whispered. “Keep to your part, Hudson.”

It wasn’t for show. That was the very complicated, very messy problem for which I had no solution. Yet.

“I thought we agreed not to lie.” I trailed my fingertips down her bare spine and her breath hitched as she shivered. My dick stirred in response, just like it always did when she showed the first sign of interest. “And as you reminded our niece, omission would be just that. I told you I want you. I’m done hiding from it. Public. Private. Don’t care. This is real for me. It’s about to get messy.” I held her gaze, watching her expression shift from surprise to confusion, then fiery annoyance as she stepped away.

There’s my girl.

It was the first slip in her mask I’d seen all night.

“Alessandra!” Her name was the only warning before we were engulfed.

There were at least half a dozen people reaching for Allie and pulling her into hugs and taking selfies. Not once did her mouth curve genuinely.

These were her people. Shouldn’t she be happy?

“We’ve missed you!” A woman with black hair and a kind smile clasped Allie’s shoulders, and my mind flickered through the pictures from the website. Reagan Huang, principal dancer, which equated to the same rank Allie was. “It’s not the same without you.”

“Yeah, there’s no one around to make us look bad.” That joke was offered up by a blonde with catlike eyes and a hard-to-read smile. Harlow Oren. Soloist. One rank below Allie.

“Please, like you need Alessandra showing you up to look bad.” A lanky guy with blond hair and a monochromatic tux pulled Allie into a hug. “Ugh. I’ve missed you. You don’t call. You don’t text. You don’t respond when I call and text.” He leaned down, setting his chin on her shoulder. “It’s bullshit, really.” Everett Carr. Principal. “I’ll only forgive you if you come back.”

“Stop hogging her, Ev.” A brunette in a black ballgown tugged Allie away from Everett and hugged her quickly before cupping her face. Candace Baron. Principal. “Tell me you’re taking care of yourself.”

“I am,” Allie promised with a nod, and I couldn’t tell if she was lying.

The last guy looked like he’d just stepped off a billboard. Black hair, blue eyes. Jacob Harvey. Soloist. He smirked and opened his arms. Allie walked right into them.

My gaze focused on his hands, which were well above her lower back. Probably not mystery ex number two, then.

“It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?” a woman said to my right, pulling her long black hair over her shoulder. “Not knowing who’s genuine and who’s not. I’m Kenna, by the way.”

Allie’s closest friend.

“It is.” I offered my hand. “Honored to meet you. I’m Hudson—”

“I’m one of the only people in this room who actually knows who you are.” She shook my hand, then tilted her head and studied me. “You make your move yet? Your real move, that is. Not this fake bullshit or a shower stall.”

I instantly liked her. “She told you about the kiss?” A flame of hope caught behind my ribs.

She lifted her brows. “Whole-ass beach out there just waiting for some cinematic romantic moment, and you choose a shower stall?”

“No regrets. Had to know she wanted it, that she wasn’t performing.” I slipped my hands in my pockets, keeping watch on the people gathered around Allie from the corner of my eye. “And she’s skittish when it comes to real moves.”

“Wonder why.” She shot me a look that would level cities.

“Guilty.” I nodded, then peeked Allie’s direction and found the same beautiful but bogus smile on her face as she talked to the other dancers. “Any advice?”

“Hell no. I’m her friend, not yours.” Kenna’s brown eyes narrowed. “But you are going to make a move, aren’t you? Because she needs to get with you or get over you. Hear me?”

“Heard.” Allie wasn’t getting over me, the same way I was never getting over her.

“Good.” She nodded, then glanced at Allie. “And you’d better be ready to fold yourself into her life, because the only time ballerinas bend is onstage.”

“I’ll fold,” I promised, my voice lowering. “I’ll turn myself inside out if it means I get to be hers.” Saying it out loud took pounds off my shoulders and untwisted the first of about three million knots standing between Allie and me.

“Okay, then.” Kenna’s shoulders relaxed, and she turned to stand beside me. “Everyone, this is Hudson Ellis,” she announced to the dancers. “Allie’s boyfriend.”

Every set of eyes turned toward me, more than one appraising me in a way that would have made my mother blush. “Nice to meet . . . everyone.”

“Would you look at those eyes,” Everett muttered. “Allie, where did you find this delicious specimen?”

Allie huffed, then tucked herself into my left side. “At the beach when I was sixteen.”

“Technically you were off the coast about a mile,” I corrected her with a wink, wrapping my arm around her and sliding my hand over her hip.

Reagan lifted her hand to her chest and sighed. “Oh, Alessandra, please tell me you’re bringing him back to New York.”

“Hold that thought.” Kenna stepped in front of us and lifted her phone. “Smile.”

We posed and she clicked. Tonight’s goal had been accomplished.

“You two have fun. I’ve got Matthias for a whole night and I’m not wasting him.” She waved, then disappeared among the tables.

Jacob’s gaze tracked a blonde with a pixie-shaped face. “I’ll see you guys afterwards.” He made a beeline for the woman.

“Really?” Allie lifted her brows.

“Oh, they started fucking as soon as summer rehearsals started,” Everett remarked.

“Don’t be jealous.” Harlow kissed his cheek.

“Please, I’ve got all I can manage with Michael right now.” He shook his head. “Speaking of which, we should find our seats. Candace and Reagan are here with you, but I’m over there at the other principals’ table.”

“You could be back with the soloists,” Harlow teased in a way I wasn’t sure was teasing. “Good to see you, Allie.” She headed back a row.

Everett leaned in and kissed Allie’s cheek. “Get your ass back to New York.”

“Working on it,” Allie assured him as the others filed off. She leaned into my side. “I guess I forced you to learn their names for no reason.”

“I like knowing who your friends are.” I bent and brushed a kiss over her forehead just because I could.

She sighed and leaned into me. “Besides Kenna, I’d only consider a couple of them friends,” she said softly. “Reagan”—she nodded across the wide table—“and Everett.”

“I told you that dress would look killer on you.” Eva walked between the tables, a brunette with a predatory look in her eyes following about ten feet behind. “Holy shit, Hudson Ellis.”

“Hey, Eva.” I nodded.

“I told you he was coming.” Allie swirled her finger. “Turn around, your straps are twisted.”

“I wasn’t sure he’d actually show.” Eva did as she ordered, and Allie unhooked two of the dozen straps crisscrossing Eva’s back, then hooked the correct ones together.

“I go wherever your sister beckons.” I looked over Allie’s head and noted the other brunette hovering in the background. Pointed nose. Shrewd blue eyes. Charlotte Larsen. Soloist.

“You’re all set,” Allie told Eva.

“Thanks.” Eva turned my direction and looked me over. “Were you always this gorgeous? I mean, I remember you being pretty hot, but wow did you grow into all that.” She waved her hand my direction. “Five stars. No notes.”

My eyebrows shot upward.

“Eva,” Allie snapped, but her sister only smirked. “No.”

Eva tsked. “A good sister would share, you know.”

“A possessive sister will cut you,” Allie warned in a sing-song voice, and I barely stopped myself from pulling her into a kiss.

“Relax.” Eva rolled her eyes. “I was just kidding. Like I’d ever dream about coming between the two of you when you took so damned long to get together.”

I blinked. Allie hadn’t told Eva the truth.

“Did you find your seat?” Allie changed the subject.

“Back with the steerage? I mean corps? Of course.” She reached for Allie’s hand, all pretense falling from her face. “Charlotte took your locker.”

Allie tensed. “I’m sorry?”

“This morning after rehearsal, she moved all of your stuff from your locker, and put hers in.” Worry lined the space between Eva’s eyebrows.

“What exactly did she do with my things?” Allie clipped her words.

I shot a look at the brunette, who was creeping closer.

“She just dumped them on the bench. I stuffed everything into my locker. Don’t worry, it’s all there.” Her shoulders dipped. “Allie, she already took your barre spot. She’s coming for that principal role. Tell me you’re healing. You’ll make it back, right?”

Allie nodded and squeezed her sister’s hand. “It’s all right. Vasily already told me that Equinox is on the fall program. I’ll be ready.” She forced a smile for her sister. “Don’t worry about Charlotte. Not on my behalf. Principals rise and principals retire. If someone is better than I am, then they’ll take my place. It’s as simple as that.”

“I can put laxatives in her yogurt if you want.” Pretty sure that was a genuine threat.

Allie scoffed. “Knock it off and go find your seat.”

Eva sighed, then walked away, heading toward a table another row back and to the left.

“So, nothing much has changed there,” I remarked.

“She’s pretty much a sour patch kid.” Allie took the step that separated us. “How do you like my world, Ellis?”

“Feels . . . slippery.” I grabbed the back of her chair and pulled it out. “You’re kind of a chameleon here, aren’t you? Putting on whatever disguise the person in front of you compels so you don’t get eaten?” She blended in a little too well. “How many people in the world actually know who you are, Allie?”

“Very few,” she admitted softly. “And unfortunately for me, I think you’re one of them.”

“Look out,” I warned her as Charlotte approached.

Allie pivoted, then weaponized the fakest smile I’d ever seen. “Hi, Charlotte.”

“Good to see you feel well enough to come tonight,” Charlotte replied, her smile razor sharp. “Since you haven’t been able to sit in on any rehearsals or even take class with us.”

“You did a marvelous job with Giselle.” The muscles in Allie’s back tensed, and her chin rose. Juniper didn’t just take after Lina in that regard.

“I know.” She glanced past Allie and all but eye fucked me.

I narrowed my eyes to let her know it wasn’t welcome.

“You should know”—her attention focused back on Allie—“that we all want you to take as much time to heal as you need. One ruptured Achilles is a disaster, but two?” She grimaced. “Imagine if you rushed it and suffered a third? That would be career ending, and none of us want that for you. You’re practically Company royalty.”

Allie’s shoulders straightened. “Thank you for the concern, but I’ll be back before fall for rehearsals, as I’m sure you’ve asked and I’m certain you’ve been told.”

A corner of my mouth tugged upward.

“Well, just in case, I don’t want you to worry.” A saccharine-sweet smile spread across Charlotte’s face, and she lowered her voice. “I’ve been learning the choreography to Equinox after hours with Isaac. That variation in the first act is just scrumptious. Probably a little hard on someone with an ankle injury, though.”

Equinox . . . Wasn’t that Allie’s ballet? The one Isaac had choreographed and created for her?

To Allie’s credit, she didn’t flinch.

The same couldn’t be said for me. What the fuck kind of viper’s nest was this, and why was Allie so hell bent on returning to it?

“You should take your seat, Charlotte. I think the performance is about to start.” Allie’s tone could have frozen a volcano.

“Enjoy your night.” She wiggled her fingers at Allie, then headed toward one of the soloists’ tables.

If this room was a shipwreck, Charlotte was the person I was putting on the helo last.

“Allie?” I whispered.

“Everything okay?” Reagan asked, leaning to the side to see past the centerpiece. “Was Charlotte being an ass?”

Allie startled, then blasted that fake smile. “She was just wishing me a speedy recovery.” She grabbed her clutch and sank gracefully into her seat before I did the same to her right.

“Think I just figured out why you build walls. They’re more like barricades. Ironic that I’m in the military,” I told her quietly, leaning in as she stared toward the stage, her face a rigid mask of control. “But I suspect you’re the one fighting wars.”

She looked back at me as Vasily took the stage, and for a second, the mask slipped, and anger shone through. “I would care.”

“About?” I reached into her lap and took her hand, spearing my fingers through her clenched fist, then holding tight.

“If you’d slept with someone in this room. If someone like her had you—” Rage burned in her eyes. “I would care, Hudson.” She jerked her head toward the stage, and Vasily began his speech before I could reply.

Allie seethed, her posture rigid, gripping my hand like a vise all through Vasily’s remarks, and didn’t let up as the kids from the Company’s ballet school took the stage and began their performance.

“I can’t be here.” She gripped her clutch and looked back at me. “I’m done. Take me home. Now.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.