I studied each of the moves as Miss Janine put the girls through their paces. I had a basic routine in my head that I was going to do, but I'd purposefully left gaps so I could see what the students did first. I figured if I put in and nailed at least two or three things that each class was working on, the better shot I had at being placed higher.
I was relieved to see that the remedial class wasn't working on anything I didn't know. It had been a long time since I'd done real dancing, and while I'd been practicing the last couple weeks, I hadn't been sure where I'd compare to the other students. When the intermediates arrived, I saw that the majority of them were around my age. Most of them smiled at me as they walked past, and the ones who didn't, had expressions on their faces that said when they were here, they never smiled at anyone. I understood that too. Focus was important.
I could see the difference between the classes immediately. These were young women who were looking toward a possible career in dance, whether as an instructor or on stage. From what I saw, I believed I could hold my own with them, maybe even be better.
As they exited, I noticed a couple linger behind, watching the door. When a striking older woman with silver streaks in her dark hair entered the room, the students' reactions told me that this was Madam Emilana. She glanced at me once, nodded and then turned her attention back to the new young women who were stretching. They ranged in age from about fifteen to at least several years older than me, and even watching them at the bar was evidence that they were the advanced class. These were the ones who had a shot of making it. Some maybe only in local troupes, but they'd be doing what they loved.
I was completely entranced as the class worked. I hadn't truly acknowledged how much I missed this. When I'd first started stripping, I'd tried to keep my style and had been told that if guys wanted to see that, they'd go to a show. If anything kept me from being in the advanced class right away, it would be the rough edge I'd unintentionally gained while in Vegas.
When the class ended, some students filed back to the changing room while others left directly. Madam Emilana didn't acknowledge my presence until the last woman left, and then she walked over to me. I stood and held out my hand. Her grip was firm and her eye contact steady. She didn't look down at me or frown like the other two women had and I wondered if that was because of her personality or if she didn't know where I came from. I assumed the other two did.
“Miss Black.” Her voice had a hint of an accent I couldn't quite place. “Once Miss Janine joins us, we'll begin your audition.”
I nodded. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
“Of course.” She gave me a smile that said once work ended, the tough teacher went away too. “Any friend of the Stirling family is welcome here.”
I managed a tight smile. Okay, so that answered one question.
“Reed mentioned that you didn't have any formal training,” she said.
“That's true. A few classes at the local youth center when I was a kid, but that was it.”
“And you think you'll be able to keep up with our classes after a few classes as a kid?” She sounded doubtful but not cruel.
It wasn't until that moment that I realized what I should have known before. They didn't know what I'd been doing in Vegas. No one here did. This really was my chance for a fresh start.
“Let's see what you have prepared,” Madam Emilana said as she and Miss Janine moved to stand at the front of the studio.
With the weight that had been lifted at the idea of a clean slate, the routine went even better than I'd hoped. I added in each of the elements I'd selected from the three classes, nailing the first ones with ease, the second set without a problem and almost completing the last ones perfectly. A little bobble on one and another that looked a bit rough, but still recognizable. The other parts had been brought in from various forms of dancing I'd done over the years, though the ones from the last two years were much more sanitized versions. All in all, when I finished, I was beyond pleased with what I'd done. I just hoped the judges slash teachers felt the same way.
When I first looked at them, my heart sank because they were turned toward each other, having what appeared to be a low, heated discussion, though their faces were basically blank.
“Miss Black,” Miss Janine turned toward me first. “You stated that you hadn't had any formal training.”
“That's right.” I sounded more winded than I wanted to, but there wasn't anything I could do about that now.
“Then may I ask how you included elements specifically taught in dance classes, one of which is exclusively taught here?”
I wasn't sure if she was angry or not, but I figured honesty was the best way to go. “I watched the classes and chose elements that would fit into the spaces I'd left in my routine.”
Miss Janine's eyebrows shot up. “You're telling us that you came here with a half-completed piece, intending to fit in unknown elements that you'd never practiced before?”
I tried not to shift my weight from one foot to the other, but the questions were making me nervous. I wasn't sure if I'd done something wrong or what the correct answer was, so I stuck with the truth. “Yes.”
“How did you know you'd be able to do anything we were teaching?”
Madam Emilana still hadn't spoken. She was simply watching the conversation volley back and forth, her face an impassive mask.
I shrugged and immediately regretted it. A shrug was about as far from elegant as a person could get. I straightened my posture. “If I couldn't do at least what the remedial class was doing, I didn't belong here. If the other levels would've been too hard to even try, I would've only added ones from the first class.”
Now Madam Emilana spoke and she sounded almost smug. “I told you that was what she was doing.”
Now I was just confused and let it show. Neither of the women explained though.
“Excellent work,” Miss Janine said, and it didn't sound grudging at all. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.
“Yes,” Madam Emilana said. “You will begin in the advanced class starting tomorrow and should you prove to be as hard a worker as I believe you to be, your private lessons with me will start at the beginning of the upcoming year.”
I was still beaming when I walked outside fifteen minutes later. I was also pretty sure that, if I hadn't been a grown woman standing on a city sidewalk, I might have skipped a bit. I was still debating going for it when I heard a familiar voice call my name.
“Piper! I was hoping I hadn't missed you.”
I turned as Julien jogged across the street. He was grinning at me and, for a moment, I thought he would hug me, but he didn't. He stopped within arm's reach and stuck his hands into his pockets. It was a hot day and he was wearing shorts, showing off athletic legs that were a bit paler than the rest of his visible skin.
“I called the studio to ask what times they normally held their auditions so I could get here in time to see how you did.”
I was so touched at his thoughtfulness, of his remembering my big day. I was smiling so big I thought my face would crack. “Great!” I nearly yelled, “I'm in the advanced class with a chance to have private lessons.”
Moving back to Philadelphia now seemed worth it.
“That's wonderful!” He gave me a slightly awkward one-armed hug and then backed away. “Hungry?”
“Starving.” I hadn't been able to eat much today. Too many nerves.
“Then let's celebrate,” Julien said. “My treat.”
I smiled. “Where do you want to go?”
“Your choice. It's your celebration.”
“Trolley car?” I suggested.
“Breakfast for dinner.” He chuckled. “Bacon and eggs?”
I laughed too. The fact that he'd made me breakfast without expecting anything in return had made that one of my few positive memories of that week.
I was surprised at how smoothly the conversation flowed as we walked back to his car and then drove out to Germantown Avenue. He was
still really easy to talk to. I suppose I'd thought our conversations before had been a fluke brought about by the need to be less awkward with Brock being a jerk, or by alcohol. That last conversation we'd had wasn't like this at all, so I didn't count it. Now, I could see it wasn't any of that. Julien was one of those rare people with whom it was comfortable to talk. One subject flowed into another and never ventured into anything uncomfortable or too personal. Over pancakes with maple syrup and cinnamon buns with creamy frosting, he told me what he'd been doing since we'd last seen each other, and then he asked how the job search was going.
I frowned at my pancakes. “I think I covered half the diners and restaurants in Fishtown, but none of them are actually looking for help. They were all really polite and let me fill out an application, but I doubt I'll hear anything from them.” I tried to lighten the mood by leaning across the table and taking some of Julien's frosting. “Too bad Brock never made good on his promise. That ten thousand dollars would come in handy right about now.” I flushed as I realized how that sounded.
Fortunately, Julien was polite enough to ignore it and kept going with the original conversation. “Are you definitely wanting a job around Fishtown then?” he asked as he stabbed a piece of my pancake, giving me a dazzling smile as he ate the food he'd stolen.
I nodded. “That would be my preference. I'm staying with Anastascia right now and I don't have a car. I could borrow hers, but she's already doing so much for me.” I stopped suddenly, pressing my lips together. We were venturing into overshare territory. “It'd just be nice to be able to walk from her place to work and then to the studio, and not have to worry about trying to get a ride.” I glanced up at the sun. It was already starting to get darker earlier. “At least until winter comes.”
“Yeah, I'll bet that'll be one thing you'll miss about Vegas,” Julien said. “No one wants to walk in Philly during January.”
I nodded even though I knew I'd be one of the ones doing just that. First priority was to find a place of my own. It may have seemed like I should've worried about a car first, but unless I was forced to get a job somewhere that having one was absolutely necessary, being in my own apartment came first. Walking would help keep me in shape. I'd dealt with walking in Philadelphia winters before. I could do it again.
“I know a few people in the area,” Julien said. “I could make some calls.” He held up a finger before I had the chance to say anything. “I won't do it if you don't want me to. I know some people don't like taking help.” The twitch at the corner of his mouth said he remembered our conversation a few weeks ago regarding that exact thing.
He was right. I didn't like asking for help, but I was getting better at it, especially since I knew once I got hired somewhere, they wouldn't regret it. I was a hard worker, and after two years of stripping, dealing with obnoxious restaurant customers was going to seem like a vacation. Besides, it was either this or borrow money from Anastascia in a week or so when what I had left from the club finally ran out. I'd refused to let her pay for my food and I'd had to get clothes for dance class. That had taken most of what I'd brought with me.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I'd appreciate that.”
He nodded. “All right then. I'll get back to you as soon as I hear anything.” He held my gaze for a moment, and then smoothly transitioned to another subject. “So, tell me what you're going to be looking to do with your dancing. Theater? I’m not even sure what all the options are.”
I liked this, I thought. Good food. Good conversation. And a nice guy who wasn't trying to get into my pants. It was refreshing.
Chapter 4
The first week at Madam Emilana's was amazing. Granted, by the end of the week, my muscles were protesting every little move, but it was hard to describe how wonderful that actually felt.
Other things were going well too. Wednesday, Julien had called and given me the name of a tiny little family-owned restaurant two blocks over from the dance studio. I'd gone in before school the next day and was warmly greeted by an elderly Italian man who'd instantly proclaimed me 'Bella' and hired me on the spot. I might've thought Julien paid him if the man hadn't been so honestly excited. We'd set up a schedule that included letting me work split shifts around school and then agreed that Saturday afternoon would be my first day.
I was thinking about how well the move back was going when a car pulled up to the curb and honked. I jumped and nearly flipped off the driver when I heard Julien laughing.
“Didn't mean to scare you,” he said as I walked over to the driver's side window.
“You keep showing up here when I'm walking home and I'm going to start thinking you're a stalker,” I teased.
“You caught me,” he joked back. “I have my camera in the backseat.”
I rolled my eyes. “What's up?”
“I want to show you something.”
“What?”
He gave me an enigmatic smile. “It's a surprise.”
My eyes narrowed. “I'm not really that fond of surprises.”
“It's a good one,” he said. “I promise.” He made the childhood gesture of crossing his heart.
“Promises, promises.” I walked around to the other side of the car and climbed in. “Let's get this over with.”
“Wow,” he said as he pulled the car back into the correct lane. “You'd think I was taking you to get a tooth pulled or to meet my parents or something.”
I shot him a sideways glance. “I wasn't aware that we were at that point in our relationship.” The horrified expression on his face made me laugh. “Relax, Julien. I was kidding.” He still looked tense, so I added, “We're way past that. You've already seen me naked and slept over.”
He chuckled and the tension eased. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I liked what we had and I didn't want it to change. I needed a friend and stability right now. I didn't even want to think about anything else.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he turned away from Anastascia's.
“You'll see,” he promised. “It's not far.”
We went one more street over, which meant the restaurant where I was going to be working was now halfway between school and wherever we were. He parked next to a church and climbed out. I followed, but couldn’t imagine why he’d brought me to a church. He'd never said anything that made me think he was very religious.
“This way.” He led the way down one of the cobblestone side streets. We went about a third of the way down and he stopped.
Like the other apartments on this street, it was more of a row house than the kind of apartment I'd had back in Vegas. Red brick with concrete steps that led up to a door with chipped and faded paint, it was a bit more run-down than the buildings on either side of it, but it was still vastly larger than the place Rosa and I had shared. Still, I didn't understand why Julien had brought me here.
“It's not officially on the market until tomorrow, but the owner's willing to take less if he doesn't have to advertise or wait. It needs some work, so I got him to accept a pretty cheap offer for the first year's rent.”
It all began to click in my head now. “Wait…what? For me?”
“Of course for you. What do you think?”
Think? My eyes widened. I didn’t know what to think. I seriously hoped he wasn't about to offer to pay my rent. I really didn't need another person offering to give me things and money. He'd never made a move on me, so I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt that there was something I was missing.
“Julian,” I started then had to pause and look back at the building and its surroundings. “I can't afford to live here. Especially when I haven't even started work yet.”
Julien handed me an envelope. “Actually, you can.”
I had taken the envelope automatically but now just looked at it in suspicion. “What's this?” I asked, an eyebrow raised in question.
“The money Brock promised you.”
My jaw dropped.
Julien's eyes shone with a hard ligh
t. “I went to see him yesterday and told him that if he didn't pay up, he'd have to leave the state to get a date. Everyone would know what he did.”
I threw my arms around him without thinking and he staggered back as I caught him off guard. “Thank you.” I had to whisper the words because I wasn't sure I could say them without crying. This wasn't prostitution money. This was more like the settlement I would get if I'd gone after him for assault. That, I didn't feel guilty about taking.
I pulled back, but didn't completely step away, which meant I was still in Julien's arms when I looked up at him. Our eyes met and, for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, but then he was letting me go and the moment faded away. He ran his hand through his hair and I thought he looked a bit shaky. I wasn't the only one who'd felt the almost-kiss then. What I didn't know was how I felt about it. I'd just gotten out of a bad relationship that had begun due to a rebound from something that hadn't even been a break-up. I groaned at how stupid that sounded in my head. Besides, I didn't even like Julien that way. Unbidden, Reed's face came to mind and I shoved it aside.
“I'm glad you're happy about it.” He gestured toward the apartment. “Should I get the paperwork drawn up? You can come by and see inside tomorrow, either before or after work. I should have a key for you by then.”
I nodded. My head was spinning. This was all too much.
“Thank you so much, for all of this.” It was hard to talk around the lump in my throat. “I'll never be able to repay you.”
“Well, there is one thing you can do,” Julien said. “There's this charity event next weekend and I really don't want to go alone. My mom keeps trying to set me up with her society friends' daughters. I'd rather take a friend I can talk to and have a good time with.”
If he hadn't thrown in that part about taking a friend, I wasn't sure what I would've said, but since he'd made it clear we weren't going as a couple, I couldn't say anything but yes.