On the Line (Special Ops) Read Online Free PDF Page A

back in his life. If he failed, then at least he would know why she left him the way she did.
     

     
    Ariana moved around the ballroom of the Four Seasons. The reason she had picked this location had started to elude her until she took another look at the lake view. The beauty of nature combined with the beauty of the human body in motion would be amazing. She loved picking the right location to fit the theme of the show, each show having a different theme sometimes meant she had to step outside the comfort zone and spend a little more to bring it to life. The cost was expensive, but she hadn’t lost money on the event. They were sold out actually. There wouldn’t be any door tickets left to purchase. She smiled just thinking about the show she had put together. This would be special for the dancers, beginner or experienced, student or troop dance routines, she knew they would all enjoy it. When they were done dancing, they had a very good meal waiting for them too. She, however, would have to spend the night meeting and greeting people, keeping dancers’ nerves in check, making sure the show went off without too many hitches—and whatever hitches were to arise she had to make sure she fixed them. She had a backstage assistant, but for the most part the work was on her shoulders. “As it should be,” she whispered. This was her baby and she should be the one to make sure things went according to plan. She had been in the dance world long enough to have experienced major dance competitions and shows. She had learned how to organize and manage these events from watching the people around her who were doing just that. While the dancers were getting hair and makeup together she had already gotten herself together and spent the pre-show time studying the behind the scenes activities. She had been putting these shows on for years herself, but with each one she was still just a little nervous. For some reason this one had her more jittery than the others.
     
    She chalked her jittery nerves up to the location. She was a pro at this, there was no way in the world her stomach should have this many butterflies fluttering around. She wasn’t nervous about her opening and closing routine at all; she figured nervousness for that would come right before the first dance, as it always did. She just felt nervous about this show; as if something was going to go wrong and she wouldn’t be able to fix it.
     
    She shrugged off her worries and kept making sure her vision for the room would work. The manager had been gracious enough to allow her to come in the past few days just to look around, take more pictures and mentally play around with the setup. She already had the setup in mind but she wanted another look. They would be able to get in early Friday morning to setup all the fabrics they would need for decoration, make sure the hotel staff had the tables in the right order so that she could place the table numbers, and get the room ready for the show that would be that night.
     
    “Ceridwen?” She heard the highly accented male voice call behind her. She had chosen that name, far different than what most dancers were choosing at the time, because it was the name of a Welsh goddess. Being part Welsh she wanted to incorporate that into her dance world. From the first moment she started being in shows she had chosen the name of the goddess. She had learned that modern Wiccans—not that she was into that kind of stuff—thought of Ceridwen as the Celtic goddess of rebirth, transformation and inspiration. Everything she had read painted the goddess in a light that she found favorable, including Medieval Welsh poetry referring to her as possessing the cauldron of poetic inspiration. What was dance if not poetry in motion? She was a romantic from birth she would assume because she believed everything she thought of the name even when her instructor at the time tried to get her to take a more traditional belly dance name. She did not