Dancer's Body

Chapter 31

Her phone rang before the sun came up.

"I need you to get ready, I'm picking you up in twenty minutes."

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

"It doesn't matter. Bring your best item to dance in." He hung up, and she stumbled towards the shower.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Glancing behind her, she saw he'd packed a leather duffel bag.

"New York."

"New York? Why? Why didn't you tell me—"

"I'm telling you now."

"For what? When's the flight?"

"The flight is whenever I say it is."

He parked at a remote, private lot on the outskirts of PDX. "Can't we park closer?" she asked, shivering in the morning wind.

"Closer?" he asked. "My plane's right there." He gestured to a small, sleek plane with a pilot waiting in the cockpit. "It's not my favorite for cross-country, and we'll have to re-fuel in Chicago, but it will get us there."

He strapped her into her seat as a painfully thin woman offered them champagne and canapes. Roman brushed her aside, and she moved to the rear of the plane to strap herself in. "Where are we going?" she asked again.

"To someone who wants to see you dance."

She fell asleep on the flight and woke up with her head resting on his shoulder. He'd unbuckled her and was staring out the window.

"How much farther?" she asked, sleepily.

"You slept through the re-fuel for the most part, so not much longer. Maybe an hour," he said.

"Oh." She pushed herself up and looked out the window.

"Does flying privately bore you?" he asked.

"No, why?"

He smiled. "I'm just guessing you haven't before. I've never seen anyone fall asleep so quickly on their first flight."

"Well, someone woke me up at the crack of dawn! All right, now that you have me nearly to the Atlantic, are you going to tell me more?"

"One of our most generous donors, whose name will remain anonymous, has requested a private performance."

"And you couldn't have told me that yesterday?"

"No. Because he called me at three in the morning to make his request."

"What the hell is he doing up at three in the morning?"

"Well, it was six in New York. I'm guessing he had an urge during breakfast."

She slouched into her seat. "I feel like a trained seal," she said. "What am I? Dancing for your supper now?"

"For all our suppers, O," he said. "There's millions on the line with him."

"And what if I mess up?" she asked. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to dance! What if he doesn't like the costume? All I have is black—"

"Don't worry about that."

They took a private car into the city, which grew increasingly tall and overwhelming as they approached. "The Chrysler Building," she said under her breath. "The Statue of Liberty. Hey, can we go to Magnolia's—"

"You've never been to New York," he reminded himself, astounded.

"No," she said. "I haven't ... I haven't been many places."