The Swan and The Sergeant - Alana Albertson Page 0,10

leaned on the pillar next to him and smiled. “Ready to win, Zaika?”

I winced. Though I’d once been quite fond of his cute nickname for me, a word that meant rabbit, hearing him use it now made me want to hop away. “Found out who the mystery dancer is.” I teased.

He glared at me. “Who it is?”

“It’s Bret.”

Dima’s back straightened, temples bulging. “Bret . . . Lord?”

“Yup. Isn’t that crazy?”

His hand tightened into a fist. “I don’t understand. Isn’t he in the war? He hasn’t danced together with anyone in years.”

I took a step back, crossing my arms. “He’s still with the Marines. I’m as confused as you are. Benny asked me to partner him in his tryout.”

“How did he dance together with you?”

“He was incredible, actually.” I watched the jealous reaction on Dima’s face and enjoyed it. Maybe we will use that anger tonight in our Paso.

His lips curled. “That’s ridiculous.” He tapped his foot. “It do not matter. We need to focus now.” He squeezed my hand. “Remember, we are nothing without each other.”

Dima loved me in his own way, I knew that. But our love had always been toxic.

Jenny Ming walked over to us. “Selena, we have to leave now.” Jenny’s pale face flushed red, her eyes darting at Dima. Her hatred toward him was an open secret. She was clutching my makeup case. “You still have to gossip with the judges, and I have to sew you into your costume and do your makeup.”

I hated talking to the judges. Picturing their faces caused that fluttery sensation in my stomach that I got before every competition.

I exhaled. “Let’s do this.”

Jenny, who was also on Dancing Under the Stars, competed in Standard, not Latin, so we could always help each other get ready. Tonight was my night, and Jenny rushed about, making sure everything went as planned.

Dima hooked my arm and led me inside the ballroom, with Jenny trailing behind us.

We made our grand entrance. Before Dancing Under the Stars was on television, competitions had been low-key events, relegated to the ballrooms of hotels. These days, when one of the dancers on the show competed, a red carpet was rolled out, and TMZ cameras were in our faces.

We all smiled for the cameras, gave a few autographs to our fans, and headed into the ballroom. After waltzing through the luxurious lounge, we walked over to the cramped vendor room. We made our way through the maze of stage jewelry, ballroom shoe peddlers, photographers, and costume designers.

Jenny headed over to the registration table and checked us in. Even though people were paying the organizers to come to see the competitors dance, all competitors still had to buy tickets to the event.

The Latin music playing in the ballroom overtook me, and I swayed to the beats of cha-cha. I scanned the ballroom for familiar faces and breathed a sigh of relief after reassuring myself that Bret wasn’t lurking around. The last thing I needed was to be distracted by him tonight.

The thought of him made me impossibly hot. Had he felt what I had when we had danced? Dima was technically perfect, but with Bret, it was different. My body reacted to his touch, my soul to his.

What was he doing on the show anyway? How on earth did Benny convince him to be on the show?

Ay, I couldn’t think about him. Not tonight.

Jenny returned from the desk and handed us our tickets. “Go schmooze, Sel. I’ll get set up for you in the dressing room. See you in fifteen.” She hugged me and then rushed off to set up my costumes and makeup.

Dima and I did our rounds and kissed up to the judges in the house. Dima flirted with Karen, as her son, Jared, chatted up Elizabeth. Elizabeth’s partner, Ricardo, only had eyes for Mikey, his young boyfriend.

His arm was wound tightly around his wife. Vika’s platinum hair was slicked into a sparkly bun, gold earrings framing her face and violet eyes glinting. She looked like an angel. Dima had introduced her to Benny at a competition in Moldova. Benny had certainly given her the life, plucking her from her small village in the Ukraine, training her to be his protégée, forcing his son to be her partner, casting her on the show.

Vika walked toward me and leaned in for a cheek kiss. “Selenichka, you look beautiful to me. Good luck to you tonight.”

“Cbacibo, Vika. I love your dress. Good luck to you.” Endless seasons on a show