Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
The pressure in my chest immediately eased, and my mouth curved to mirror hers, widening into a grin. In our ocean-loving family, Anne was the palm tree—she swayed in the hurricane, but never broke.
“Anne!” Eva jolted out of the chair and threw her arms around our older sister.
“Whoa!” Anne laughed and wrapped her arms around Eva, the diamonds in her wedding band glittering in the bright lights.
“Thank you, Lacey. We’ve got her,” I said, and the stage manager nodded in return before moving on.
“You look great!” Anne pulled back from Eva and gave her a quick once-over, her eyes softening. “Costume fits perfectly. I can’t wait to see you up there.”
“I’m just in the corps.” Eva shrugged and stepped aside. “It’s Alessandra who’s the real star. Right, Allie?”
“Only for tonight.” I tied off the row of stitches, then flexed my foot a few times to make sure it held.
“Every night, in my book.” Anne knelt beside me despite her stylish black dress and hugged me gently, careful not to smudge my stage makeup.
I leaned into the embrace, closing my arms around her tightly, needle grasped between thumb and forefinger so I wouldn’t prick her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Anne had a way of making everything all right. Dad away on business? No problem, Anne knew the schedule. Mom lighting into one of us about our turnout? Anne stepped in to distract. She was the living embodiment of a warm hug. Lina may have been the firstborn of the four of us, but Anne had always been the one with the oldest-sister vibe.
“Me too,” she whispered before withdrawing just enough to give me the same appraisal she had given Eva. “Beautiful as always. You’re going to do great.”
“I just want it to be perfect for her,” I replied as she swept her knees to the side and sat on the blanket.
“As if you have any other setting but perfect,” Eva muttered.
Anne shot her a reproachful look, and I brought my right foot into my lap, wincing slightly at the tenacious burn along my Achilles. “Are you hurting?”
Leave it to Anne to miss nothing.
“I’m—” I started.
“If you so much as say the word fine . . . ,” she warned, her astute gaze locking on my ankle.
“She had a cortisone shot yesterday,” Eva said, leaning in toward the mirror to check her eyeliner.
Anne’s eyebrows jumped. “Does Kenna know?”
“As my best friend or as the Company’s doctor? Because the answer is yes to both,” I countered. “And you’re twenty-five years old, Eva.” I gathered my tights to my other shoe and started stitching. “At some point you have to stop tattling on me, right?”
“At some point you have to learn when to take it easy,” Anne chastised.
“Tomorrow,” I replied, sewing quickly.
Tomorrow, the set would be changed from Giselle to Romeo and Juliet, and while Eva would be dancing in the corps for that show as well, I would officially be off for the next couple of weeks, at least for performances. I’d give myself a day or two to rest the ankle, like Kenna suggested, and then test it out with Isaac.
“It’s always tomorrow with you.” Anne sighed. “If Mom knew you were dancing injured . . .”
“Who do you think we learned it from?” Eva quipped.
A corner of my mouth tugged upward. She wasn’t wrong. Performing through pain was the first lesson Mom taught us, both on and off the stage. Sadly, that made us a family of not just professional dancers, but professional liars too. “I’m fine. It’s just been a hard couple of weeks, between rehearsals, performances, and working with Isaac.”
“Isaac?” Anne looked up at Eva as my fingers ghosted across the silver scar along my Achilles tendon.
The sound of breaking glass skittered through my mind, but I cut off the memory before it could take hold. Not tonight. Tonight I would dance for Mom, because Lina had never gotten the chance.
“Isaac Burdan,” Eva answered.
“Ah, the next Balanchine,” Anne said, rising to her feet and dusting off her knees. “Don’t look at me like that, Eva. Just because I don’t dance anymore doesn’t mean I’m not up on what’s happening in the scene. I do read.”
Anne did more than read. She organized most of the Company’s events, including the entire Haven Cove Classic—which, thanks to our mother, had become one of the foremost summer competitions in the under-twenty division.
“Never said you didn’t.” Eva put her hands up like she was being arrested. “Just surprised you’re reading about Isaac being the next Balanchine.”
“Don’t say that in front of him.” I grinned, finishing the last few stitches before tying them off. “His ego won’t fit in the building.” Flexing, then pointing, I tested out the stitches, only standing once I trusted my handiwork.
“Did you read that Allie choreographed a ballet with him?” Eva’s tone pitched mischievously.