Dancing for the Lord The Academy - By Emily Goodman Page 0,66

look in his eyes? Danni nodded, her mouth dry. “Your place or mine?” she asked calmly.

“Kat should be here for awhile—we can go back to your place for a change,” he offered.

She was about to agree with him—had even opened her mouth to do it—when a single bellow silenced them.

“Danielle! Nicholas!” Mme Renault’s voice cut through the chatter backstage as if she had pushed an unseen mute button.

They jumped to attention, Nick removing his arm from her shoulder as if they had been caught doing something illicit.

“Androv wants to see you as soon as you are changed.” Her voice was ominous.

They exchanged a long look. In the elation of knowing that they had managed to pull it off, they had both forgotten about the inevitable confrontation.

“You’re going to get it,” someone whispered. Danni turned her head just in time to look into Allie’s vindictive eyes.

She and Nicholas exchanged a glance, immediately of one accord. They might be about to get chewed up one side and down the other, but they were going to do it with grace. They weren’t going to slink in there like a couple of children.

It wasn’t easy to follow Mme Renault with their shoulders back, their faces empty of all emotion. Both of them really wanted to shake with the fear; but they’d long since learned to repress that particular emotion. They had to be able to act as well as dance, and that meant not showing fear when it struck.

Androv was waiting in his office, pacing behind his desk. He gestured them around to the front; the two of them obeyed, standing shoulder to shoulder as though a united stance might somehow save them.

“Which of you decided to mess with my choreography?” he bellowed.

Nicholas winced, but stepped forward immediately. “It’s my fault, sir,” he said firmly, his voice ringing in the sudden silence. “I’ve been having some trouble with my shoulder, and Allie grabbed me to practice this morning—she pushed me past what I could deal with.”

“But the changes were mine,” Danni said quickly, as soon as he stopped to take a breath. She had made her decisions for herself; she wasn’t going to let him take all of the blame.

“I pushed her to it,” Nicholas protested. “I told her I wasn’t going to be able to dance—“

“And I decided I didn’t want to do it without him.” Danni’s expression was obstinate. “I’m sorry if it was a problem, sir; but they teach us in partners’ class that we’re supposed to take care of each other out there. If one of us gets hurt….”

“If one of you gets hurt, you are to take care of each other.” Androv turned, and for the first time, Danni realized that there was a hint of a smile on his face. “That was very quick thinking, Miss Wilkerson. I’m suitably impressed.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Not only did it flow so seamlessly that you might as well have practiced it that way, but it was close enough to the original choreography that there wasn’t even a chance that you would set someone else off—or worse, miss a cue in the music. And you’re telling me that you came up with this on the fly?”

“At intermission, sir.” Nicholas found his voice first.

“Your partner told you at intermission that he wasn’t feeling up to dancing, and in that twenty minutes, you managed to completely re-choreograph your entire dance.” Androv shook his head. “And this from the girl who hadn’t even seen the steps until two weeks ago.”

“I—“ Danni couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I am suitably impressed, Miss Wilkerson,” he repeated, smiling faintly at her evident confusion. “In fact, I would like for you to report to me during your study hours on Fridays for a choreography class.”

“I—“ Her voice was barely working.

“That would be…nine fifteen, would it not?” he suggested. “And twelve thirty….”

He’d checked her schedule. He knew when she was free. Androv knew when she was free.

“Let’s do nine fifteen the first week after break,” Androv continued. “We’ll see about the other later. I wouldn’t mind some help with the spring ballet.”

Danni nodded in all the appropriate places, but she wasn’t sure she really heard him. Every word he said was just increasing her excitement. Androv was the best choreographer in the school—maybe one of the best in the world. Companies came from everywhere to ask him to write their ballets—and he wanted to work with her.

Nicholas slid his arm around her shoulders again, grinning. “Tell the nice man you’ll see him