Chapter 1
Isabelle
“Good job ladies!” Ryan’s voice is always so kind and praising. We've just finished our final rehearsal before the show tomorrow night and I'd be crazy if I said I wasn’t nervous as hell. I've been working for the Reznikov Dance Academy for less than two months and landed the lead choreography position for the new production in my first week.
Dancing has been my life since I was a child. My mother was a dancer and my father, he was her choreographer. They had met when my father was helping the owner of the RDA do some talent scouting and, according to both of them, it was love at first sight. In the twenty-three years that I've been alive, I've never seen two people more in love than my parents were.
Just before I turned eighteen, they were taken from me and it tore me to pieces. They were hit by a drunk driver who, as luck would have it, walked away with minor injuries. The day they passed was the day I stopped dancing. Now, the only dancing I do is during rehearsal and at the club with my friends Ryan and Roxanne…and only after I've had a few too many drinks. I haven't been to the club since starting work here and aside from a glass of wine each night, I haven't really been drinking either.
“Hey, you down to go out with us tonight?” Ryan has been trying to get me to go out with the dancers since my first day here, but I haven’t caved…not that it stops him from asking every night.
“I appreciate the offer, but I need to get home and get some rest.” I know that's a lie, but luckily, he seems to have bought it.
“Ok, but if you change your mind we'll be at The Dark Room.” he quickly hugs me before running to catch up with the dancers that are filing out of the studio. I finish getting my things together and then make my way out the door, locking up as I leave. It's a brisk night and I can see my breath the second I step outside.
The dance studio sits directly behind the theater and has three entrances to get in, but we always use the side door when we're doing rehearsals. I pull my sweater tightly around me and head down the sidewalk toward my apartment. I got lucky when I had found an apartment only three blocks away from the dance studio.
As I make my way around the front of the theater, I see a black limo parked in front with a man leaning against it. As I get closer, I realize that it is Andre, Mr. Reznikov’s personal driver. He's a kind man who always makes sure to greet me with a warm smile. Today, like most days, he's wearing a well pressed black suit, white button up shirt, black tie and perfectly polished dress shoes. His graying hair is hidden under his black driver’s hat, his warm brown eyes focused on the theater doors and his lips rest with a serious expression. It only takes him a moment before he catches sight of me and his lips quickly pull into a full smile.
“Well hello Ms. O’Conell!” The warmth in his voice is almost enough to chase off the cold of the evening air.
“Andre, I told you to call me Isabelle. How are you this evening?” He appears to be silently scolding himself for having forgotten my previous requests for him to use my first name.
“I'm doing just fine, Isabelle. How are you?” I can’t hold back my smile when my name passes his lips.
“I'm doing great, thank you.” He gives a gentle nod.
“And how are the rehearsals going?” I love that he always shows so much interest in my daily ventures with the dancers.
“Well, a few divas, but overall, it's looking pretty good.” As I finish speaking I notice a serious look on Andre’s face and turn to find myself facing none other than Victor Reznikov. Victor was voted most eligible bachelor for two years straight, but the problem isn't romantic availability, he's just emotionally unavailable. The man is cold and withdrawn, but at least he pays well!
“Are you having issues with the dancers Ms…” His voice is deep and cold, but his blue eyes, short black hair and chiseled body more than make up for it. He's wearing a suit that looks like it would easily cost more than I make in several month's time.
“O’Conell. No, I'm not having issues. We just have a few prima ballerinas in the group, but nothing I can’t handle, sir.” He cocks an eyebrow at me quizzically.
“Good to hear. Have a good evening, Ms. O’Conell.” He stands steady allowing me to pass by. I wave goodbye to Andre and hurry off toward my apartment. The walk home is quiet, peaceful even and the cold helped cool my nerves after coming face to face with the son of Mikhial Reznikov. I quickly make my way up the three flights of stairs to my apartment.
The apartment used to be an artist’s loft and is very spacious. It only has one bedroom, but the living room, formerly the artist’s studio, is very large with polished wood floors. I don’t waste any time, I quickly strip down as I make my way to my room, leaving a trail of clothes through the hall, and climb into bed. I had planned on coming home and binge watching several episodes of NCIS, but once I made it to the second floor of the building, I realized that I truly was exhausted. Within minutes, I slip into a deep dreamless sleep.
“Close curtain!” Ryan shouts as the dancers take a bow. Thunderous applause is pouring in from the theater and I can tell by Ryan’s face that the show went off without a hitch. I tried to watch in the beginning, but my nerves got the better of me. As the dancers make their way to the changing rooms, Ryan rushes to me and lifts me in his arms, spinning me around in excitement.
“Down boy! You're going to make me dizzy!” We both laugh as he carefully sets me back on my feet.
“Oh my god Izzy, that was amazing!” Roxanne’s voice screeches from behind me.
“Do you really think so?” I know she hates when I doubt what she calls my “god given talent”, but I always worry that I won’t live up to my father’s legacy.
“Knock that shit off girl. It was perfect!” I can’t help but smile at her reassurance.
“We're all going out to celebrate. You two want to join us?” I can’t even process the question before Roxanne squeals out her response.
“Hell yes! Where we going?” I give Roxanne an irritated glare, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“We're meeting up at The Dark Room in an hour.” Roxanne jumps up and down while I continue to glare at her.
“We'll see you there!” She grabs my hand and drags me out the side door to the theater.
“I.hate.you.” my words only cause her to laugh.
“Izzy, it's about time you get out and mingle a little. Hell, at least find a good ol’ one night stand. Ever since you got the job here, you've been closed off. Live a little!” I smack her arm causing her to laugh again.
“Roxy, I don’t even have anything to wear. I just want to go home.” Roxanne whips around and has the most excited look on her face.
“I can help with the ‘nothing to wear’, but as for the ‘want to go home’...well tough shit. Let’s go!” Once we're in front of the theater, Roxanne flags down a taxi and as soon as we're seated, she gives the driver her address and we take off for her apartment.
