This must be Alek’s dance coordinator.
“Nikolai Belikov, Madam Angelo. Pleasure to meet the woman who will be transforming my dancers into Gothic Kings and Queens,” he says, bowing. Right now, I’m wondering which planet I've landed on. Everyone seems so polite and gorgeous and just unreal.
Alek sighs and makes a whispery laugh. “You’re trying too hard, comrade.”
“No worries, Sasha,” Nikolai begins, his gaze locked on me. But a smile spreads across his lips, “I will not steal such a gorgeous creature from you on this eve. Maybe some other time.” He strolls back over to where the others sit. All eyes stare at Alek and me standing there.
I lean my head towards Alek. “Sasha?”
“My nickname. Don’t even think about laughing,” he mutters.
“Wouldn’t think of it,” I say and glance at him, a small chuckle betraying my promise.
We’re staring at each other when the goddess who reminds me of Rachel Zoe stands and glides over to where we stand. “Darling, how rude to let your guest stand here in such obvious discomfort.” She scolds Alek and turns to me. “Erin Angelo. It’s a pleasure to finally have a moment with you.” I catch the tiniest hint of her Texan accent. Turning toward the others sitting in the room, she introduces me to La Scala’s director, Frederico Ponterelli, and his wife just before we head toward the formal dining room.
I’m going to kill Alek. He made it seem like I’d only be meeting his mother. Now, I’m being put on display. And I never do well in these kind of situations. That’s because people are naturally curious and want to know everything about someone they’ve just met. Me? Well, I can’t see how I’m going to get around talking about my family with this lively bunch. I craftily avoided that topic with Alek. I get the feeling my tactics won’t work this time.
Dinner goes well at first. We all take a seat at a long wooden table polished to a high shine. The roast covered in pesto, garlic, and tomatoes hits my belly in a good way. People laugh and share funny stories about the places they’ve traveled to. I’m pretty sure I can make small conversation without saying or doing anything stupid.
And then Frederico, the man who hired Alek and Nikolai, opens his mouth.
“Katerina, I think we should have a toast,” Frederico says and glances at Alek. “Here’s to hoping Ms. Angelo’s designs can lessen the impact of the risqué showcase your son has chosen.” He lifts his glass high, but no one else joins him.
Katerina remains calm, but still puts on her bitch face. I’ve worked with enough women like her to know when someone transforms in that way. “Why, Frederico, whatever do you mean, darling? Alek’s choice of Requiem for a Dream is just what Italy’s fashion capital needs. The religious fanatics will understand. And I do believe that we’ve had this conversation before.” She takes a bite of roast and gives him a firm smile. Alek stops eating and glares at Frederico.
“Erin, love, tell us about your family. Surely you miss seeing them, being that you’re so far away from home,” Katerina says to me. I knew this moment was coming.
I shrug and try to ignore the panic creeping up on me. If I keep the anxiety under control, then there’ll be no need to worry about using my pump in front of everybody. “There isn’t really much to tell. Um, we all love music.”
“I think we should go back to Frederico’s statement,” Alek says, rescuing me. “He’s my toughest critic. Naysayers are always good in this business.”
“I think not,” Katerina says firmly. “I’m more interested in hearing about the girl who got chauffeured around by my personal driver yesterday.”
Holy moly. For some reason I’m getting the bitch face and the attitude that comes along with it. Time to shake the rebel in me up a bit.
“Behave, Mother,” Alek warns, giving her a stern side glance. I’ve stepped into a war, the dangerous kind, the one where mother and son are using me as bait.
“Alek loves sex. Did he already tell you this?” Katerina informs me. Blush fires through every single cell in my body. Adriana spits out all of her Chianti and gives her mother the ‘O’ face. Frederico backs down and Nikolai attempts to say something, but Katerina holds up a hand, silencing him.
“I know this to be true because I have to set him up with the finest, most expensive pieces of kinky ass just