Dancer's Body

Chapter 2

"Rose City Dance Company, how may I direct your call?" The willowy young woman held up a long finger at Olivia as she approached the desk. She could tell by the perfectly slicked bun and unbelievably long limbs that the receptionist is in ballet—was, maybe. Is this where dancers who don't cut it end up? Answering phones?

"You must be one of the new interns," the girl said, lowering the headset. "End of the hall, last door on the left. Wait in there."

Olivia was quickly and acutely aware of her place at the company. Squarely at the bottom.

In the cramped waiting room that probably used to be a dressing room, two other college students were already seated uncomfortably on the red velvet couches. "The third lamb appears," said the boy in Lululemon warmup pants that showed every mound of muscle. His voice, lilting like a song, didn't match the rest of him.

"Olivia," she said.

"I'm Juan," he said. "This is Hailey." The girl beside him with waist-length black hair, flawless save for the quarter she'd shaved off above one ear, offered up a tight smile.

She sat across from them in a vintage chair that squeaked as she sat. Hailey wore dressed-down gear, too, though it was clearly expensive. Olivia suddenly felt overdressed in her slacks and button-down silk shirt.

"So, what's your murder?" Juan asked, re-coifing his already perfect faux hawk.

"Murder?"

"You know," he said, rolling his eyes. "A gander of geese, a flock of chickens, a murder of crows. Not ballet," he said, though the snideness was so slight it was barely detectable. His eyes roamed up and down her body. "Jazz?"

"Modern dance," she said. Suddenly the muscles she worked so hard to build and maintain, the building blocks that let her do those otherworldly moves, felt grotesque before the prodding eyes of this barely-there boy.

"Hmm. I can see that. Ballet," he said, pointing to himself.

"Interpretive," Hailey said dutifully.

"Nice to meet you both." She didn't know what else to say.

"Hello? Interns. Good, you're all here." A disheveled woman burst through the room. Middle-aged with wild eyes, she carried a stack of papers and envelopes. Olivia bolted up to help her with it, but got brushed away.

"I'm Michelle Burke, you can call me Mrs. Burke. You know me by my emails, I'm sure." She set down the papers and brushed her frizzy, salt and pepper hair out of her face. "Now, I know you're all here and excited to get to work for Mr. Levine, but I'm afraid there's been a change of plans."

Olivia looked at her fellow interns for some hint that they knew something she didn't, but they looked equally confused.

"Mr. Levine has—well, he's no longer with the company."

"What the hell," Juan said under his breath.

"However, I'm pleased to announce that Dr. Roman Stone has taken over as the RCDC Director, effective immediately."

"Oh, my God," Juan and Hailey said in tandem. Olivia glanced at them. Who was Roman Stone?

"This has—well, it's been a shift that's been in the works for some time," Mrs. Burke said. "But, as you can guess, it's been a quiet move. The board approved the formal announcement yesterday evening, and the press is being notified as we speak. The important item to note, for you, is that this won't affect your internship at all. Everything will proceed as described in your contract."