“We don’t know what her connection with Nikolai Kosloff was. And even if she had ties to the bratva, it’s in her past. We need to give Clara a shot at an audition regardless. We don’t just need a solid dancer, we need a star. Hell, forget star. You and I both know no ballet company is worth shit if it doesn’t have a fabulous principal, and Clara was a prima ballerina whose every move was perfection. We need a dancer who doesn’t want all the fucking drama most creative people can’t seem to function without.”
Yuri rolled his eyes. “And you don’t think what happened was drama?”
I could roll my eyes as well as he could. “What I’m saying is if you’d pull your head out of your judgmental ass and see around the bullshit and rumors, you’ll notice she was an amazing dancer. A shining star who was completely adored. Yes, she made a few mistakes, and for some reason made the choice to walk away. That’s all. A choice I have no doubt she’s regretted since the moment she took off her tutu.”
My solid arguments — most of which were assumptions on my behalf — were purely for the sake of Volkov Ballet. During my research, I watched some videos of Clara in her various roles, and she really was incredible. If any of that talent was still there, then she was exactly what we needed.
“Give her a chance. If she isn’t the best, then that’s fine, and I’ll concede you were right. But if she is, I really think we need to give her a shot. My gut tells me Clara might be the one who can take Volkov Ballet to the next level.”
Yuri’s eyes swerved back to the stage where the dancers were warming up, Clara among them, and he sent me a sharp nod. “Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll give her a chance. But I’ll be harder on her than all of the others, purely because I think she’ll be a PR nightmare.”
I couldn’t help but agree with that fact. Taking on someone with such a tarnished reputation would be really hard work, but I instinctively felt like she’d be worth it all. As the son of a famous ballerina, I had every belief Clara would bring a grace and beauty to our stage unsurpassed by any before her. As the man responsible for the future of our company, I had the impression Clara would bring in so much money, even Yuri couldn’t bitch in the end.
4
Alek
When the auditions were complete, there was no denying the outcome from anyone. Clara had completely overshadowed every single dancer. It was as if every other dancer had two left feet in comparison. The moment she’d started from stage left and pirouetted nonstop across the entire length of the floor, I knew it was over.
The woman moved like a damn goddess.
By the time Clara performed a series of leaps, practically hanging in midair as if defying gravity, every finger extended, each muscle defined in a split that screamed impossible, I believed every other soul auditioning knew it as well.
I tried not to laugh at the way the other dancers clearly didn’t want to step onto the stage with the woman. I couldn’t blame them. Clara dominated. Even after four years, and not at her best, the woman was without a doubt a prima ballerina. I could see why she was nicknamed Prima. She moved with a delicacy that made her seem to float on air and yet had the strength necessary to hold positions that stressed muscles. Her flexibility, her speed, her poses, her footwork, the snap of her head as she whipped in spins so fast she became a blur made the woman nearly untouchable.
And her body… her body.
Even with every inch of her body glistening with sweat, her beauty was enhanced by the perfect contours of muscles flexing beneath flawless skin. The impossible circumference of her waist had me swearing I could wrap my hands around her and still have room to spare. Legs that were long, lean and yet incredibly strong, had every woman in the theater envious and every male who preferred their partners of the female gender wanting to be paired with her if only to lift her higher into the spotlight.
I would be a damn liar if I didn’t admit to fantasizing for a few moments what exactly was hidden beneath the leotard she wore. Granted, the very nature of Spandex meant the fabric clung to her body, but I was practically salivating with the need to peel off the garment and see for myself how perfect I knew the rest of her body to be.
Mouthwatering.
The woman was absolutely, without a doubt, a specimen of female perfection.
Even with all of Yuri’s arguments, I could tell he was impressed by the way Clara performed. He knew as well as I did Clara was exactly what we needed for the theater and to enhance our reputation that we produced award-winning ballets. I hadn’t seen a dancer with so much raw potential mixed with years of training inside Volkov Ballet since my mother had been alive. The famous Nadia Volkova would have been honored to train Clara Simyoneva. I absolutely knew it.
“So…” I asked Yuri, not even bothering to hide my taunting tone. “Who do you think is best?”
He gave me a look, one suggesting he really didn’t want to admit he had been wrong. My brother wasn’t great at conceding to anyone, and, for a split second, I had the sinking feeling he might choose someone else just to spite me.
“Give Simyoneva a contract,” he growled, refusing to make eye contact with me as he said the words. “But if she fucks up, and it affects Volkov Ballet and our family name, that’s all on you.”
I wasn’t surprised by Yuri’s response. When my brother did something wrong, it was due to somebody else fucking up. But if I took a risk, that was all on my shoulders.
Still, I was pretty sure Clara would be worth it. I oddly had full confidence in her. There was no way someone could have so much, and fall so far from grace, without learning anything.
In the interview Baker did on her, I read she went to rehab to “beat her demons.” And from what I’d seen, I had no choice but to believe she’d not only beaten them, but slayed every single one.
Plus, if I thought back to four years ago, when I was twenty-eight years old, I’d been a completely different person back then. I’d grown up a whole lot since, and I was certain Clara must have too.
“I understand,” I told Yuri seriously. “But it’ll be fine. You can trust me to handle it… to handle her.”
I let out a long sigh of relief as I watched my brother go down to have a talk with the dancers. He would take the newbies aside and tell those who hadn’t made it they weren’t going to be a part of the theater, probably asking them to come back next time Volkov Ballet opened up auditions, leaving the good news to me.
I got to offer Clara her second chance at life.
I hoped she grabbed onto it and wouldn’t fuck it up.
There was no denying I was still fearful Clara might shut me down when she was faced with an official offer. She might have only come to test the waters. Hell, she might have come just to prove me wrong about anyone younger dancing rings around her. She might not actually want to get back into it seriously, especially when I remembered what she’d said about her grandmother.
Clara had said her grandmother relied on her around the clock, which was a real concern. Home healthcare workers who could come in on a daily basis weren’t the problem. Finding someone who would be willing to stay twenty-four seven for weeks or even months if Clara was on the road for long periods of time performing and doing other promotional engagements might prove to be far more difficult. Most choreographers, managers, theater owners, and promoters weren’t exactly concerned with their dancers’ personal lives — since ballet was to become your entire life — but I always tried to make allowances. It was my belief dancers would perform better if their minds were as fully engaged as their bodies and they weren’t distracted by issues going on at home.