Why don't you Stay ... Forever - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,32

me into the rehearsal room. Clarice joins us and we start working out the logistics.

It’s one of the things I love about you.

I hug the words to myself. I’m a romantic at heart too.

It’s Saturday night. The show is going well, as are the additional dances we’ve added. Clarice has kept them short, and we’ll grow them as the performances continue.

True to his word, Reuben has not pestered me all week, only discussing dance when we converse. No mention of our past, our relationship, his departure, his return, or our present circumstances. If Ben comes up in conversation—both Ida and Dean make sure to mention him as often as possible—Reuben either remains neutral or says, “He’s a decent guy.”

I’m puzzled, but relieved.

Tonight we’re debuting the new additions. Dean, Reuben, and I do a pas de trois in the first act, me going back and forth between them—like a dancing three-way. My character is apparently torn between the two guys, though she picks Dean in the end. Smart lady.

The audience loves it. They applaud us and some even rise when we’re finished to show their appreciation.

I’m pleased, but also very nervous tonight. Joining Ben in the second row is his entire family. The four brothers, Alan and Virginia, Abby and Calandra, a few cousins from the extended family, and Great Aunt Mary. She’s dating someone now, the very good-looking silver fox next to her. Go Aunt Mary.

Whenever I happen to glance into the audience, which I try not to do, I see faces of McLaughlins. I focus on Ben, make myself relax, and dance with renewed vigor.

Before the intermission, Reuben and I do a brief pas de deux. It’s a “farewell” dance, where our characters are putting our pasts behind us and parting, so my lady can return to Dean. Very fitting. Clarice is a canny woman.

Reuben dances well, better than I’ve ever witnessed him do. He never misses a step, his entrechat—jumping up straight and switching his feet back and forth in midair—makes him look light and floating, as though gravity doesn’t apply to him. Whenever he has to catch me, he does it without a slip. He holds me like a rock for my deep arabesques, and his spins are fast and perfect.

We finish with what’s called a fish dive—both my legs point back up in the air, with my chest forward and my arm extended to the floor, while Reuben supports me via his thigh and arm with seeming effortlessness.

It’s an elegant pose, and a trusting one. If he drops me, I’ll land flat on my face and possibly be injured.

We pull it off without a hitch, thus ending the first half of the show.

The crowd explodes into a standing ovation. Reuben takes his bows without apology, and he gestures to me, giving me full dues. The applause comes on even stronger.

When the curtain closes, Reuben drops my hand and bolts from the stage. I follow more slowly to catch my breath. I need to keep my energy high for the second half.

I find Reuben in the hall behind the stage talking to guys in suits I don’t recognize. They have dancers’ builds, but I can tell they stopped dancing a while ago. Probably are ballet connoisseurs now.

Ben enters from the stage wings, and I smile at him. My heart always lightens when I see him coming.

“Here’s Erin,” Reuben is saying.

The men in suits turn to me. Reuben is smiling like a maniac, and the men greet me with interest.

“Your talent is amazing,” one says to me. “Congratulations. Have you thought about taking it to a larger company? Say in Los Angeles?”

“Not really,” I say. “I like dancing with Clarice.”

Reuben grabs my hand and pulls me to his side, ignoring Ben. “She’s modest, I told you.”

“Well, you two make an awesome pair,” says the second guy. “Reuben is trying to convince us to extend the offer to you, and we told him we’d have to see you perform first. But wow. He’s right.”

“Offer?” I shake free of Reuben and move to Ben, who’s beside me like a rock.

The suits look blank. “He didn’t tell you?” asks the first guy.

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” Reuben says to me quickly. “So you wouldn’t be disappointed if they weren’t interested.”

Ben rumbles from beside me, “Disappointed about what?”

“We’re recruiting Reuben,” the second guy says. “Or trying to. He’s got feelers out, he says, but we spotted him first.” He sounds proud.

“Recruiting?” I glance from one face to the other—the two suit