Nate(50)

I stiffened but turned.

Matthew Chiltress was coming toward me.

Internally, I was weeping but also happy. I’d danced a few productions with Matthew. He was one of the stars in the Seattle ballet scene—well, in the national scene now. He was ready for a day of dancing in his gray top and black tights. His hair was combed back. He looked vital and alive, and I was so jealous.

“Matthew. Hello.”

I pulled on my dancing mask—chin up, shoulders back, arms at the ready. I lifted my mouth in a small smile. It was one that he couldn’t tell if it was polite or a fuck-off sort of smile. I always loved giving one of those. I’d been so good at them.

He paused, taking me in.

His eyes darkened in appreciation before he gave me a slight wolf whistle. “You’re looking amazing. Motherhood agrees with you.”

Motherhood with a nanny, he meant. No one believed I was actually the one raising Nova.

“Thank you. And you look amazing as well.”

A cockiness flared before he masked it, moving closer. “I was just talking about you the other day with another girl.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She was a dancer in New York who recently moved here. She’s new but getting a master's degree in dance therapy. She doesn’t know the area that well, and I thought you might be a perfect person to show her around. You’re local and you have time now. She’s looking for places to set up dance therapy programs. She mentioned nursing homes or other shelters that deal with people who have experienced trauma.”

You have time now.

It was a small dig from him. Since I wasn’t dancing, I had all the time in the world.

“Why did you think of me?”

He frowned. “I don’t know. But here you are, and I’ve been meaning to reach out. Maybe I telepathically called out to you to come see me?” There was the old Matt I remembered. He’d always been a flirt. A dancer first, a flirt second. He sidled even closer, folding his arms over his chest. His muscles rippled from the movement. “Really, Quince. How are you doing?”

I forced a light laugh as I edged back a step. My hand reached behind me, finding the barre, and the touch settled me. “I’m good, Matthew. Really. How are you doing?”

He noted the backward shift, and a knowing smirk filtered over his face before he let out a sigh. He moved to face me at the barre, his hand touching it as well. “There’s a new production in town, a new choreographer.”

“Yeah?”

My chest tightened at the thought of something new. Jealousy spiked through me.

We both bent forward, heads moving past our knees. Or mine was. I heard Matt answer, and we both paused and held the stretch, letting our lines show. “Too bad you’re still not dancing. You’d be perfect for the lead. They’re looking for a Latina lead, but I told—”

“Who is it?” I jerked upright, my heart pounding more than it should be.

Coming back from being gone so long would be hard but coming back to be a lead was not realistic.

But… I couldn’t help myself.

“What?” Matt straightened upright, frowning. “I didn’t think you could dance anymore. That’s why you left.”

“Things have… I might be able to do a production.”

His lips parted in surprise. “Well, then. The casting is in a couple of weeks. I can show you the routine.”

“I can do that.”

He stepped back, seeming to reassess me. “I heard your agent dropped you.”

“I can get a new agent. You know I can.” Why was he now fighting me on this? “What’s the issue, Matt? Why even mention the opportunity if you didn’t think I’d be interested?”

He opened his mouth, then shut it and shrugged. “I’ll let the new choreographer know. I’m the male lead.”

Of course, he was.

My chest tightened up. “Who’s my competition?”

A dry laugh. “Everyone, but no one’s going to be expecting you. I’ll only tell Patrice.”

“That’s his name? The new choreographer?”

“Her name, and yes. She comes to us from Switzerland. It’s through Seattle Dance.”

I moved my head up and down. I figured. They were more progressive than the other two established companies. “Thanks, Matt. Thanks for telling me.”

He let out another sigh, letting go of the barre. “You want me to show you the routine? I mean, it’s almost like kismet.” He shot me a teasing grin.

I ignored that, saying, “I’d like that.”

For the next hour, he moved me through the steps.

He broke each section down, moving me through each at a fast pace so I could get the steps down. It was complex but new. There was some hip-hop, some step, and some modern thrown into it alongside the usual ballet. I loved it, and he was right. As we began moving through the steps at a faster pace, my heart was pounding, wanting to burst out of me.

This dance was for me. I felt it in my blood.

I just needed to make sure I wasn’t rusty.

When other dancers started coming into the building, we slowed and began going through the arm motions.

Matt wiped some sweat from his face, his eyes gleaming. “I forgot how fast you pick up on routines.” Then he sobered, his arms dropping completely when the door opened, and a group of girls came inside. They looked over, gasping when they saw Matt, but he turned his back to them. He lowered his voice. “I’ll talk to Patrice, and I’m fairly certain I can get you on the call list, but you know they send out last-minute changes through agents. You think you can get one in time?”