River

“Keep your chest up and extend your leg as high as you can,” I instruct my students, watching them rise into an arabesque, perfectly in time with the music from the piano Bernard is playing.

The floor-to-ceiling mirrors running across the left wall of the studio hold a beautiful image of them any dance teacher would be proud of.

This is my last ballet class for the day. It’s also my favorite because I have ten eager-to-learn seventeen-year-old girls who have consistently reminded me of myself at their age. They have the same drive to learn and love for dancing that I’ve had all my life.

As they’re all absolutely amazing, I have no doubt that each of them has a fair shot at a career in ballet.

“Perfect,” I praise them with an approving nod. “Now finish the sequence.”

The girls continue dancing, flowing into each movement with the grace of swans as I watch them like a proud parent.

Bernard starts playing Debussy’s Clair De Lune, one of our favorites. The light atmosphere in the room changes with the sentiment, and I feel the beauty behind the talent from all of us. The dancers, Bernard, and me, the teacher.

Bernard’s bushy gray brows lift, and his smoky eyes brighten with the same satisfaction I feel for the work we’ve accomplished here. I take that as a small win for the day.

He’s a concert pianist who’s been in the industry for over thirty years and worked at the school for ten years. It took some time for us to get used to each other because the teacher I replaced worked with him for longer than I’ve been dancing as a pro.

As the music plays and the dancers dance, I allow myself a moment of reprieve.

Teaching these classes here at the school is my only joy in life. They keep me in touch with myself, my hopes, and my dreams. Teaching reminds me that I once knew the taste of success and I still want it.

The plan is to continue teaching until my auditions in the fall. If the New York City Ballet accepts me, then I hope to be with them for many years to come. After that, I want to open my own dance school. That’s the dream I’m holding on to. After everything that’s happened, I’m glad that’s still part of me.

This job—courtesy of my best friend, Eden—feels like my anchor to the dreams I still want.

Eden is one of the music teachers here. We met at Juilliard and have remained friends all this time. Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I would have done without her.

She’s been my listening ear, my lifeline, and my support system throughout the duration of our friendship. We bonded on the first day of college because we both had mothers who died before we reached our teens, and we both had boyfriends who broke up with us weeks before college began.

When I got back to New York, she put in a good word for me to get this job.

The vacancy had luckily just come about. Even though the school wanted someone with more years of experience under their belt, they picked me because Eden really sold me to them, and the head of dance had actually seen me perform several times across Europe.

The job comes with the perk of working for a prestigious school linked to many Ivy League colleges and professional dance companies. And also, being able to use their beautiful dance studio whenever I want to practice.

The school itself is from the Victorian era so has that Gothic Revival architecture with curlicue trims and asymmetrical designs I’ve always loved about most of the buildings in Europe. The dance studio is no different.

I was here at four a.m. this morning, practicing for an hour before I went to the café. That was perhaps not the wisest choice given the fact that I got back from the club at two, but I couldn’t sleep.

Seeing Jericho had me thinking about him and the past more than I wanted to.

It’s been two days since he came to the café to see me. Although I knew that was goodbye, like an idiot, I found myself checking the VIP section at the club for him when I went back that night. I checked last night, too, felt silly when I didn’t see him, then I realized I’d probably never see him again.

I should be okay with that. It’s what I wanted, but I can’t shake the weird feeling of angst from my soul.

Maybe it’s because the part of me that still can’t make sense of our breakup is trying to figure it out.

I never saw it coming, and he left me when I needed him most. That hurt me more than anything.

It all started when my father lost his job after his team’s designs for a new anti-virus software were stolen. Dad’s business partner took matters into his own hands to issue payback. He blamed my father for the theft, so he broke in one night when Dad was working and tried to kill him. My father was shot in the back, and his business partner was killed when they fought. Dad barely made it out alive. Now he’s in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

Months before that happened, Jericho asked me to move to Boston to be with him after I graduated. Of course, I agreed.

The plan was for me to go in the summer so we could spend the time together, then I’d return to New York for Juilliard in the fall. He talked about traveling between Boston and New York until he graduated from MIT.

Those were all his plans. His ideas. All to which I agreed. I was so in love with him that I would have said yes to anything, especially since it seemed as if he wanted a future with me.

Then my father’s accident happened, and Brielle, my evil stepmother, took control over everything.

When Dad started physio and it was clear he wanted Brielle’s company more than mine, I thought it was the best time to resume my plans with Jericho. But that’s when he broke up with me.

I rest against the wall, keep my focus on my girls as they dance, but in my mind’s eye, I can still see that sickly look of dark dread and deep disappointment on Jericho’s face that night he broke up with me.

When he dropped the bomb on me, and it was like I was talking to someone I didn’t recognize. Like the words were coming out of his mouth but someone else was speaking them.

Thinking back, I might have been able to deal with the breakup better if he hadn’t told me we’d grown apart and it was time to move on. What he meant was he had, and he wanted to move on.

To take things back a bit further, I might have deal with the breakup better if he didn’t continue our relationship after high school and if he hadn’t asked me to move to Boston with him.

All of it screwed with my head. I was ready to defy my father and live my life with Jericho, but it wasn’t meant to be.

I’m sure everything else that followed wasn’t meant to be either because nothing worked out.

Like starting over with Sasha. That was a fucked-up epic fail of a mistake.

I met Sasha while I was touring in Moscow. After Jericho, Sasha was the first guy I let back into my heart, but I never saw him for who he truly was until I was miles too late on our journey.

He was the dangerous, controlling asshole who took over my life with his fists and his rage. He forced me to give up my career with the Bolshoi Ballet.

Ratting him out to the police was supposed to be my way out, but my trouble with him had only just begun. His debtors came after me for payment to settle his substantial debts. When they realized I couldn’t pay, they kidnapped me, then contacted my aunt for a ransom of half a million dollars. Or they’d kill me. They nearly did when I tried to escape.

Aunt Gina is my mother’s older sister. She already treated me like a daughter because she was told she couldn’t have kids from an early age. When Mom died, Gina become a mother to me, so knowing I was in deep, deep, deep shit, she didn’t hesitate to gather all her savings, all her earnings from her marketing consultancy, and worst of all, she got a loan not just from the bank but a loan shark, too. All to save my life.

A month had hardly passed after she got me back when she suffered a stroke while driving. That’s when everything really went to hell.

“River, are you okay?” Bernard’s deep voice pulls me from the dark abyss of my thoughts, snapping me back to the present.

I straighten instantly when I realize everyone is watching and the music has stopped. For how long, I have no idea.

Great. Nice one, River.

I hope I didn’t look like I was bored or not paying attention.

Quickly, I plaster on a smile and shake my head at myself. “I’m so sorry. I was just thinking of some choreography I’d like to add to the routine.”

“No worries.” Bernard chuckles. “I’m sure the choreography will be as wondrous as what we did today.”

“It will. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.” I look from him to the class.

They smile back at me—believing me—and I give myself a mental pat on the back for my quick thinking to save myself.

“Class dismissed. You all did amazing,” I add in a chirpy voice.

“Thank you.” The girls coo in unison, giving me that dreamy look of esteem and awe they always have on their faces when I compliment them. That’s from my glory days. Everyone wants to be a prima ballerina. When you meet a person who is either doing what you aspire to be or has done it, that person seems like a god to you.

If only they knew how far I’ve fallen in life.

The girls and Bernard grab their things and leave.

My spirits lift when Eden approaches the door. We’re going out to dinner and some much-needed catch-up time.

“Hey, girl.” She leans against the door frame, and her long black hair swishes over her shoulder.

“Hey, there. Great to see you.” I go over to give her a quick hug.

“You, too.”

I haven’t seen or spoken to her in the last two days because she’s been away on a four-day trip with her students. We have a lot to catch up on because she doesn’t know I’ve seen Jericho yet. I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but I think talking to someone about him will help relieve my mind of the added stress.

“How was your trip?”

“Amazing, and I met this guy.” She brings her hands together in delight and laughs. “We’re going out tomorrow night.”

“Yay, that sounds great. I want to hear everything about him.”

“Believe me, you will.”

Of course, I will. She’s been serial dating for the last five months and has been studious enough to tell me about every single one of her many dates and conquests.

It’s enough action to live vicariously through her.

“Give me five minutes to change, and I’ll be all yours.”

“Cool, meet you downstairs.”

“Alright.”

I grab my things and head to the teacher’s changing rooms. I have three hours before I need to head to the club. I’ve been dividing that time across the week so I can touch base with everyone or catching up on lesson plans for class.

I try to see my father a few times, and Eden, but I always go home to check on Gina before I go off to the club.

I get changed and meet Eden, then we set off to our favorite restaurant. A diner on Main that serves fattening comfort food like triple-sized burgers and house fries with giant chocolate shakes. We order exactly that before she starts telling me about her latest guy.

I’m thankful we’re seated in one of the booths at the back because Eden has a flair for the dramatic and her sexy adventures are real sexy adventures that are of the X-rated variety.

I listen and laugh at her jokes, waiting for the right moment to tell her about Jericho.

I don’t get an opening until we’re nearly finished with our food. When I tell her, she has the precise reaction I expected. Her face becomes a sea of shock, amazement, wonder, and mischief. The latter is always a worry with her because I never know what craziness she’s going to tell me. Sometimes, it’s good and can get me out of a funk, but when it’s bad, it’s bad.

“I can’t believe you ran into Jericho Grayson at the club.” She blinks several times, then bites the inside of her lip.

“I’m still in shock. Talk about coincidence and a twist of fate.”

“No, girl, that’s not how coincidence or fate work.”

I roll my eyes. I totally forget Eden is the girl who lives by her horoscopes and monthly psychic predictions. You can’t mention concepts like fate and coincidence to her and not expect a deep dive on her truths about how the world works.

“It seemed to work exactly like that with me,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone.

She sighs with exasperation and tsks at me. “For God sakes, River. Think of what the universe could be trying to tell you.”

“Nothing.” I cut her off before she can continue with usual her mumbo-jumbo universe crap. “The universe is telling me nothing except to stay far away from the man. This is just one of those unfortunate embarrassing-as-hell things you hope never happen.”

“I hear you, but he’s Jericho Grayson.” She sounds exactly the same as when I first told her about him. Like most people, she knew who he was from the media attention the Grayson family has always garnered. “He’s a freaking billionaire and one of the most eligible bachelors in the country.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Don’t you think it’s noteworthy that he went to find you at the café?” She raises her perfectly arched brows, and the mischief in her eyes turns more visible.

“No. He was just curious. That’s all.”

“You think it’s only curiosity?”

“Of course. There’s nothing more to think. And I haven’t seen him since.”

“Did you want to see him again? Sounds like you did.” She intensifies her stare.

“No. I didn’t.” Why the hell do I feel like I’m lying? I don’t want to see Jericho again. There is no point to it.

“It sounds like he was going to offer to help you.” Eden gives me a heartfelt smile.

“I don’t want his help.” I inhale a deep breath, taking in the remaining aroma of our divine feast. I know I’m the last person who should be turning away money, but I couldn’t allow Jericho to help me in such a way. My dignity already lives in the sewers. I want to hold on to whatever pride I have left.

“If all goes to plan, in six to eight months, I’ll be able to fix everything for Gina and get back on track.” That will be just in time for my audition and hopefully acceptance to work with the New York City Ballet.

Worry pinches her brows. “That’s an awfully long time to wait and work at Club Edge.” She drops her voice, mindfully aware of who might be listening to us.

Some of the teachers at the school who hate me would have a field day if they ever found out about my extra-curricular activities at Club Edge.

Although I’m doing a great job and I’m loved by the students, there are haters who aren’t too overly fond of me because they think I’m too young to have a job that was previously filled with by a teacher who worked in the industry for over fifty years.

They also don’t think I fit because I don’t come from old money, or any kind of money for that matter.

Eden is like me, but she doesn’t catch the same flack because her great-great-great-grandfather was one of the founders of the school.

“You know I’m also not a huge fan of you working at that club.” Her jaw tightens.

“I know.” I’m not a huge fan of anything at the club other than the money.

“And the auction.” She swallows hard, and I can see the worry filling her eyes.

“I know.” I’d be a liar if I said that damn auction wasn’t freaking me out. It’s an anything-goes auction. As in I’ve signed up to do anything with whoever buys me. I can’t even believe I’m thinking those thoughts. Me, of all the people. “I’m hoping a nice guy will just want a few dates.”

“You know it won’t be that.” She blows out a ragged breath. “I’m probably the most liberal person you’ll ever meet, and I’ve done some shit just to say I tried it.”

“I’m just trying to think about the money. It’s a lot to turn my back on when I really need it.” I rest my hands on the table, suddenly feeling weak.

My stomach has been in knots since I signed up for the auction, but the money is the only thing that’s been keeping my hopes up. I’m hoping to get a bid of twenty grand.

That was the average bid at the auction last year.

The club takes twenty percent of the final offer, so if I got a bid of twenty thousand, that would still leave me with a lump sum of sixteen thousand. Getting that money means I can pay some of the arrears on the loans. The biggest one to worry about is the two hundred-thousand-dollar loan Gina got from an off-the-grid loan shark called Jones.

I don’t even know how she came to know such a guy, but he’s the kind of person you go to when you need serious money quickly, which was what she needed to save me. She only managed to get such a high-value loan from him by putting up her home and business as collateral.

That loan has eight months’ worth of arrears. Jones has been what he classes as reasonable because of Gina’s stroke, but months ago, he threatened to take the house and went as far as threatening to sell me. He was serious about both. Gina doesn’t know about the latter, but that’s what pushed me to get the job at Club Edge.

Poor Gina. She thought she was going to be able to pay everything off within a few months because she had a big job lined up. That fell through because of her stroke. The client who’d booked her wanted her specifically to work on their project, not her business partner.

The money I’ve been making has been taking care of the mortgage and Gina’s medical expenses the insurance won’t cover. Sixteen thousand isn’t much when I think of how much is still left to pay for everything, but it will help me a great deal.

Understanding enters Eden’s eyes and she nods. “Hey, I get it.” She clasps her hands. “I understand everything, so here’s hoping everything will work out the way we hope. I guess I just wish I could help you more.”

I reach across the table and tap her knuckles. “You’ve helped me more than enough. If not for you, I wouldn’t have the job at the school, and remember, you gave me all that money after Gina’s stroke.”

Eden gave me ten thousand dollars, which helped immensely.

“I still wish I could do more.”

“I know, and I appreciate you for that.” My shoulders slump with the weight of the disaster I’ve been living. “If anyone could have helped me, it’s my father.”

“Don’t you think he wishes he could?” Her lips part, and she gazes back at me with surprise.

“I do, but he never says it because he knows he screwed up.”

I can’t help the resentment I feel toward my father for so many things. It started with his marriage to Brielle. I thought he got married way too soon after Mom died, as it was less than a year after she passed. Then, after his accident, he allowed Brielle and her bitch daughter Michelle to rob him of every cent he had.

He worried Brielle would leave him because he could no longer walk, so he gave her control over his finances and splurged on her to keep her. She left him anyway and took all his money. Money from the house she sold, money from Dad’s other assets, money from his savings.

In the end, Dad ended up in a one-bed condo on the other side of the city. Because he can’t work for long hours, he does part-time hours at a software firm. It’s a job that pays the bills and puts food on the table, but it doesn’t come close to the previous company he worked for. He’s on an intern’s salary, which is just enough to take care of his basic needs.

Apart from the finances, I hate that my father told me to stay with Sasha. He wanted me to stay even knowing how badly I was being treated. His argument is that he thought we could work things out. I only have myself to blame, but I know that if he’d told me to leave or found a way to get me out of that situation, many of the problems I now have wouldn’t exist. Neither of those options would have crossed my father’s mind, though, because of Sasha’s wealth. Dad would be more worried about looking like the bad guy than me.

The same goes for Club Edge. If Dad knew I was working there, he’d be more embarrassed for himself. Not me.

That’s why I haven’t told him about it. Gina doesn’t know either, but not for the same reasons. If she knew, she’d feel like failed me, and I would never want her to feel that way.

Dad and Gina currently think I got a dancing job that’s bringing in extra money to take care of the bills. I want to keep it that way.

“I’m so sorry.” Eden sits forward and gives my hands a gentle squeeze. “Let’s order dessert and talk about happier things, like your audition and all the amazing things you’ll do when you get the job.”

I give her a grateful smile. “Thanks for being so positive.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Her face brightens. “Now, how does a hot fudge sundae sound?”

“Like heaven on earth.”

“Then we should have it.”

When the dessert arrives, I try to enjoy it and stop thinking of the night I still have ahead of me.

At least it works to some degree, but as night falls, so do my hopes.

I reach home at two in the morning, dragging my legs as if weights are attached to the soles of my feet.

Shit. Every cell in my body is screaming with exhaustion.

Every time I feel like this, I pray that my body doesn’t give out and refuse to work. Especially when I’m on the aerial hoop.

Tonight, I almost fell.

Me.

That hasn’t happened in so long I can’t even remember the last time it did. It would have been long before Mom died. The same way she used to come to all my ballet classes, she’d attend my aerial classes, too. It was her who got me started on both from the tender age of five, because that was her dream. Her family couldn’t afford lessons. When she saw that I was obsessed with both, she made it her life’s mission to make sure I did what I wanted to do.

She would have loved to see all that I can do now, but she’d want me to be sensible.

Being up on the aerial with no safety is dangerous enough as it is, but being up there when you’re so tired you can’t see clearly is downright foolish.

I have a break tomorrow for the auction and the three nights that follow for the time I’m supposed to spend with whoever wins me. Right now, I don’t even have the energy to feel nervous.

When I get inside the house, I see the light on in the kitchen, meaning Gina is awake. It’s not often that she is at this hour.

I hope she didn’t wait up for me.

Earlier, when I checked in, Gina was worried about me because I’m working so much. She begged me to take the night off, and I was only able to get away because her support nurse came by for her physio appointment.

I make my way into the kitchen and find Gina sitting at the breakfast table with her laptop open and a stack of letters next to it.

She’s in such deep thought that she doesn’t notice me standing at the door.

She has her head dipped with her eyes glued to whatever is on her computer screen.

Her hair is a wild mess of long black and gray strands that hasn’t been styled in months. She’s only fifty, but the stroke has given her a gaunt appearance that’s made her look several years older.

Taking care not to startle her, I walk in. When she looks up at me, a weary smile slides across her lips.

“Hi, I couldn’t sleep,” she mutters.

Thankfully, her speech was one of the first things she regained after the stroke. It was slurred for well over a month before it improved.

The next thing to come back was the feeling in the left side of her body, but she still can’t move around properly without the aid of a cane, or for too long.

“It’s really late, though.”

“Too late for you, too, and you’re getting up in a few hours.”

“Don’t worry about me.” I walk over to her.

She shakes her head. “You know I do. You’re working way too hard, River. I know you feel guilty, but you mustn’t.”

“There’s too much debt.”

Sadness fills her eyes. “I know. I’ve been thinking of doing some online work. Anna helped me brainstorm the idea.”

Anna is her business partner. I know she’s trying to help, but Gina is in no position to do any kind of work. Online or otherwise.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It wouldn’t be stressful,” she assures me with a determined nod.

“Aunt Gina, please, just allow me to take care of things. I really hope you aren’t actually working.” I scan the stack of letters, and now that I’m close, I can read what’s on her computer screen. It’s an email with a list of things from Anna.

“This is all stuff Anna needed me to check for the company insurance renewal. And a potential contract.” She says that last part with more caution.

“So, it’s work?”

“River, I can’t just—” Her words cut, and she grabs her chest, then gasps for air.

“Gina, what’s happening?”

She doubles over, panting and wincing in pain. Panic sends a jolt of adrenaline through me, eradicating my prior state of exhaustion.

I grab her shoulders, and she leans into me.

“I’m going to call the hospital.”

“No, I’ll be okay,” she says quickly, inching back so she can look at me. Her breathing slows, and then she almost seems normal, but I can tell she’s not. “This happened the other day, and I was fine. It’s just… a sharp pain.”

“Did you speak to the nurse about it?”

“Yes, it’s nothing, sweetie. Probably gas.” She tries to laugh, but it doesn’t work. A cough comes out instead. “I think I should go lie down and try to sleep.”

“Yes, you should.” I nod, still assessing her and contemplating calling the hospital. “Are you sure I shouldn’t give the hospital a quick call to run it past a doctor.”

“No. I’m okay. I just need some sleep.”

“Okay. Let me help you.” I help her get up then take her to her room.

She lies down and is asleep within minutes.

Paralyzed with worry, I watch her, wondering what the hell just happened.

She said there was nothing to worry about, but it didn’t look like nothing.

So, what could it be?

Something tells me there’s more to worry about.

Like Gina is sicker than I know.