Broken People Read Online Free PDF Page B

When he made no effort to drink the soup, instead
staring pointedly at her, Cielo rolled her eyes again and quietly
laughed. “I know, I know. You think she’s taking advantage of me …
but I don’t mind sewing dresses for her. She always has great
designs.”
     

8

    Nicholas met Anya halfway between the train
and the tent. He smiled, seeing her bounce on the tip of her toes,
the way she did when she was excited, trying to achieve eye level
and not quite making it.
    She hung onto his arm instead. “When do we
start rehearsing?”
    “Tomorrow, if you like,” Nicholas said,
pacing his steps. Anya’s long legs could easily keep up with his,
but he didn’t want to put more pressure on them. They were strained
enough as it was, and he enjoyed a leisurely walk with the Russian
ballerina by his side. Besides, he was in no hurry to give anyone
the news about the police’s involvement.
    “I knew you’d succeed.” Anya’s pleased grin
said more about her confidence in her power of prediction than in
his ability to get things done. She turned and gave Cielo a
discreet nod, then waved goodbye to the blond girl and her
companion on the platform. Her attention going back to Nicholas,
she pulled him along the length of the train, towards Rake and
Spinner’s car. “So, I’ve heard you’re our new art director.”
    “That’s what they’re telling me, too,”
Nicholas said, unsure of how he felt about that. He knew, however,
where this conversation was going.
    “I know you’ll be busy the next few days,
but I trust you’ll tell me when my turn comes to discuss my
numbers with you.”
    If Nicholas hadn’t known her, he would have
believed Anya truly meant what her warm body rubbing against his
side insinuated. “We can talk now if you want.”
    “Well, I don’t suppose there’s a way out of
it?”
    “What are you talking about?” Nicholas
looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you’d be thrilled
about this opportunity. You always talk about how you can only do
silly numbers because the audience isn’t capable of appreciating
the serious ones. Here’s your chance to do something
different.”
    “I know, and I am thrilled. It’s just
that …” Anya chewed on her lower lip, almost to the point of
drawing blood. She rolled her eyes and looked away. “I haven’t
danced on a real stage in six years.” She nodded in the direction
of the city. “These people will notice.”
    “You were the prima ballerina at the Moscow
Bolshoi Theater, and you still practice every day,” Nicholas said,
squeezing her arm. “These people have never seen someone
dance as well as you do.”
    “Well … you’re sweet to say that.” Anya’s
smile told him she agreed.
    She was good, although not as good as
she had once been. That was why she had left Moscow in the first
place. Still, the years had been kind to her, and she was still in
good shape. She would do well.
    Anya didn’t seem to fully believe it as she
stood there, trembling in the cold. At some point, they had stopped
walking and turned to face each other. Her eyes were full of
anguish. This wasn’t an act.
    Nicholas shrugged off his coat and placed it
on her shoulders. “You will be great, as always. And you can do any
number you want.” He wrapped the coat tighter around her. “How
about Giselle? I’ve always thought you’d make a terrific
Giselle.”
    “Actually, I’m thinking of Swan Lake .
I feel a bit more dramatic in that.” She let out a short laugh, and
then her grin turned smug. “And I can also wear better
costumes.”
    “I feel sorry for poor Cielo already,”
Nicholas deadpanned and resumed walking.
    Anya pretended to pout for a second, then
grabbed hold of his arm. Her long fingers smoothed over his white
dress shirt. “Nick?”
    Oh, boy … What did she want now? Anya
only shortened his name when she badly wanted something. “Yes?”
    “Do I have to do the butterfly act?” Her
voice had turned into a whine.
    Ah, that was it.