This time, though, it was different, because the thought of walking away from Trick and never seeing him again made her heart hurt.
She was in deep trouble.
Chapter Nine
Stella got into position and waited for the music cue, her body tense, but her entire being focused. When the music started, she felt it enter her soul, her limbs moving in time to the strains of the recorded orchestra. Her body had memorized every note, her soul embedded in this role.
This was what she loved the most about dance, the way she could embody a role, letting the music carry her away. After months of practice, she could dance this part with her eyes closed. She knew where she needed to be. She knew every movement, every leap, each turn, and where her partner was going to be so when she threw herself into the air, he would be there to catch her. Because dance was always about trust, especially when you were relying on someone else to be there for you. They had all been working so hard, and it was finally coming together, especially this oh-so-important opening scene. She felt this scene in her bones, dreamed about it at night, made each step in her head when she stood in line at the grocery store.
The dance was fluid, each of them moving seamlessly around each other. It was a breathless feeling, and she wished she could be on the outside looking in. Even though they weren’t in costume, she felt the perfection of it all, and when it ended, she lay on the floor in her partner’s arms, the two of them looking up at each other and grinning.
“Good, huh?” Nevin said.
“Fucking perfect, if you ask me.” Stella grinned back at him, then Nevin pulled her off the floor.
“Well, that was okay. You all can do better. Take ten, then we’ll move onto the second scene,” Lawrence said, then headed off the stage.
Lisa walked over. “He said it was okay.”
Stella found her water in her bag and took several swallows. “I know, right? High praise coming from our esteemed choreographer.”
“It’s almost like he thought we were good,” Nevin said.
Stella laughed. “Now don’t go thinking that. You know he thinks we all suck.”
Nevin nodded. “Alas, so true. Why he chose us, I’ll never know.”
They spent several minutes going over the next scene while also rehashing how very awesome the opening was. Stella didn’t care what Lawrence said. She’d felt that dance deep inside. They’d nailed it. She’d nailed it.
“I need to make a call before he wants us up for round two,” Nevin said. “Catch you all in a bit.”
Nevin wandered off.
“I need to do the same,” Lisa said.
“Okay.” Stella just longed to sit down for a few minutes, so she went to the edge of the stage, figuring she’d let her legs dangle and rest.
She skidded to a halt on the stage when she saw Lawrence in deep conversation with a very tall, extremely good-looking man she recognized right off as Trick.
What the hell was he doing at the theater? And why was he talking to Lawrence?
“There’s Stella now,” Lawrence said. “I’ll let you go. Nice talking to you, Trick. And thanks again.”
“It was my pleasure, Lawrence. Say hi to Jonathan for me.”
“I definitely will.”
Trick and Lawrence shook hands—like they were old friends. For Christ’s sake, Lawrence even smiled.
That man did not smile. Ever.
What the ever-loving fuck was going on? Had she fallen and bumped her head? Because this had to be some kind of dream.
She walked off the stage and met Trick.
“What are you doing here?”
“I sat in the back and watched your rehearsal.”
“What—how? Rehearsals are closed. Lawrence is a monster about that. No one gets to watch. Hell, he wouldn’t let his own grandmother watch a rehearsal.”
His lips curved. “Well, I don’t know about that, because I just did. You’re incredible, by the way. The way you dance, Stella? I never knew you were that good. I’m really impressed. But I can see why you complain about Lawrence. He’s really hard on you. On all of you.”
Ignoring his compliment, her head spun at the information pouring into it. Not only had he watched the rehearsal, but—
“Oh, God, Trick. Please tell me you didn’t say anything to Lawrence about him being hard on me.” She’d die. She’d not only die, she’d get fired.
“Of course not. This is your job, Stella. I’d never interfere in that.”
“And yet here you are. At my job. Don’t you have your own job to go to? You have a game tonight.”
He gave her a warm smile. He was obviously happy about being here, while she was not. It unnerved the hell out of her.
“Warm-ups aren’t until later. I had some time, so I thought I’d drop by and see you dance. Is that a problem?”
“Yes, it’s a problem. It’s a big problem.”
“I don’t understand why.”
She didn’t know why, either, other than she knew he wasn’t supposed to be here. Something just wasn’t sitting right with her. “How did you even get in here?”
“Let’s just say I know people who know people.”
She laid her water bottle down on one of the seats and crossed her arms. “Explain that to me.”
“I found out Lawrence’s boyfriend Jonathan is a big hockey fan. So I might have pulled some strings and said I could get them season tickets if Lawrence would let me pop in this morning to watch some of your rehearsal.”
Stella knew it was really damn hard—if not nearly impossible—to get Travelers season tickets. “It was that important to you to watch me sweat on stage during a rehearsal?”
“It wasn’t that big a deal, honestly. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I wanted to watch how hard you were working—which is very hard, by the way. I saw an opening and I took it. Lawrence was happy to let me watch. It’s not like I’m in here with some camera taking pictures that I’m going to sell to competitors or to the paparazzi, and he knows that. I wanted to see my girlfriend dance, and he gets to surprise his boyfriend with season tickets to the Travelers games. It’s a win/win.”
There were so many things wrong with what he’d just said, but she’d zeroed in on the one word that made her sweat more than all the grueling hours of rehearsal she went through.