Dancer's Body

Chapter 28

Her phone screamed at her Wednesday morning. Olivia reached for it, thinking it was the alarm, but shot awake when she saw Roman's name. It was just past six in the morning. She answered the call, but said nothing.

"Olivia?" His voice alone threatened to soften her resolve.

"What?" she snapped. She could still hear a trace of sleep in her voice.

"You need to come into the office," he said. "Eight o'clock."

"I don't need to do anything," she said.

"It's not me asking. It's the board."

"The board? What do ... what do they want?" She sat up in bed, alert.

"It's better if you come in for it," he said.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked quietly. Did they find out about them?

"Just be here at eight. Please," he said, and hung up.

She rushed to the shower, nicking herself as she shaved. The cut burned on her calf as the hot water cascaded down, but if she was going to get reamed in front of a room full of people, she was going to look good doing it.

Olivia pulled on her best dress, tailored to fit her perfectly and toeing the line between all business and a hint of play. She'd worn it just once, to her first internship interview.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the streetcar brought her closer to her stop. Hustling into the building at ten 'til eight, she went straight for the receptionist's office. "Hi," she said quickly, moving towards Roman's office.

"One minute, Olivia," she said, holding up her hand. She wasn't even allowed to go in?

Nervous, she keeps bringing her thumb to her lips to chew. Stop it, she commands, clasping her hands tightly in her lap.

"This way," the receptionist says, opening the door to the hallway.

"But—"

"They'll see you in the conference room," she said. Olivia glanced at Roman's closed office door. "Don't be nervous," the woman said, squeezing her arm as she opened the foreboding wooden doors.

Roman sat at the head of the long table, lined on either side by people she'd never seen before. Most wore somber dark suits, save for the one bald man with round glasses and a tight gingham shirt under his bright orange jacket.

"Olivia," a slender blonde woman stood and reached out her hand. "Thank you for coming in. And on such short notice, I heard," she said, shooting a look at Roman. He remained stoic, methodically tapping a pen against his notepad. "I'm Katherine Sullivan, Director of the Board. Water?" she asked.

"Uhm, thanks," Olivia said. The woman gestured at her to have a seat at the opposite end of the table. Roman seemed a light year away.

"Do you know why we called you in?" Katherine asked.

"Not ... not really," she said, looking around. Were they wanting her to confess? Should she? And how much?

"My apologies for the mystery of it all," Katherine said with a smile. "We just have to be careful before any signatures are gathered."

"Signatures?"

"Olivia, we called you in here today to offer you a place at Rose City Dance Company."

"A place? You mean ... as a dancer?"

"Of course!" she said with a laugh. "You would have to work your way up, that's a given. And, what with the unorthodox nature of your recruitment, the placement would be conditional for the first ninety days. However, all dancers within the company are given equal opportunities to audition for any role they like. Including you."