Dancer's Body

Chapter 18

She chewed at a cuticle on the way to her internship. Maybe it was the stress, or the wine, or something, but Olivia was having doubts about her talk with Nyla. Maybe I should just quit the internship, she thought. There were only a few weeks left. And what are the odds that I'll get the paid extension, anyway? Roman might not even have a say in that decision—and so what if he did?

Plus, things with Wyatt seemed to be getting a little less heated. At least in spurts. There were sparks of time, recently, where they seemed to be doing okay. But is that enough?

Olivia wasn't sure what she'd do even as she pulled on her messenger bag and raced across the streetcar tracks to the RCDC. Never before had two very distinct, and very opposite, paths been spread so overtly in front of her. She knew she'd have to choose one. Is it a fifty-fifty shot that I choose right?

Walking down the echoing hallway chambers, the click of her heels on the floor was almost meditative. Already, the board had plastered mounted posters of Roman throughout the foyer. Him during his prime, matted article clippings of his most incredible performances, and his awards. There's no way he thinks of me like that, she thought, looking at the accolades. You're throwing away your life on a crush.

She drew in a deep breath, commanding courage as she turned into the administrative wing and saw his office light on. This is it. Tell him you're quitting. Just tell him!

But as soon as she walked through the door, he looked up, those dark eyes framed by impossibly thick lashes, she knew she couldn't. "You're early." The way he said it made it sound like she was in the wrong.

"Couldn't sleep," she said.

Roman sighed. "Actually, it's for the best. This choreography is a fucking disaster."

She sat down across from him. "What's wrong? I thought it was getting worked out."

"I did, too. Something still isn't right."

"Can I help?"

He seemed to brighten, just slightly, at her offering. "Maybe," he said. "I've asked the other two interns to sit in on the choreography today, too. I don't expect them to be much help, but hopefully they're not a hindrance, either. Perhaps a couple more pairs of eyes on this mess will prove enlightening."

Olivia's breath caught at the idea of sitting next to Juan all day. For the most part, she'd been isolated from him and Hailey. And she'd gotten quite used to it.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No. Not at all. What, uh, what time does this get started?"

It was worse than she'd imagined. Juan sat right beside her, tearing her apart with his eyes. "Hey, superstar," he said under his breath. Hailey giggled beside him. Roman turned and gave him a sharp look, which shut him up briefly.

For the next hour, it was subtle jabs from Juan. When he figured out Roman could hear him even over the swell of the music, he began scrolling through his phone. Juan zoomed in on meme after meme of the photo with Roman, showing each one to Hailey before letting his phone rest for a few seconds on the armrest so Olivia could take it in.

"No!" Roman yelled at the dancers. "Jesus Christ, can you—let's take a break. Everyone, thirty."

Finally, Juan and Hailey both snapped their eyes to Roman.

"You two," Roman said to Juan and Hailey, "take care of your usual tasks for half an hour. Olivia, come with me." He stalked towards the door.

"I'm sure she'd love to," Juan whispered to Hailey.