them. I’ve performed every role. Until the new AD gets here, I can probably get us through to Friday.”
Cassidy clutched my hand. “You’re a godsend. Thank you. Let me get the schedule together and figure out when we need you. Can you hang around until after this is over?”
“Of course.”
Cassidy ran off to coordinate and came back a few minutes later. “Could you do the closing speech for tonight? Kathy was supposed to say a few words. I know it would mean a lot for it to come from you. But if you can’t, Nick can.”
I swallowed and nodded. It was just another stage. Even if I hated public speaking. “Sure. I can do that.”
“You’re the best, Peyton.”
Isaac raised his eyebrow. “You’re going to give a speech?”
I frowned. “I couldn’t exactly say no.”
He rubbed my arm. “It’s going to be fine.”
I took comfort in his reassurance, but I sure didn’t feel it. I didn’t know why it was different, being on a stage and dancing compared to speaking. I had just the right amount of nerves before I got up to dance my parts. Those were only natural. But I didn’t have to say a thing. My body expressed everything that I needed to say. Speaking was entirely different, and those pre-stage nerves had nothing on this.
By the time Cassidy was ready for me, I was full-on shaking. “God, I need to get it together.”
“Hey, hey,” Isaac said. “Just look at me.”
I looked deep into his eyes, and in that moment, I felt grounded. I could do anything. I didn’t have to give this speech to everyone. I could just give it to him.
“You’re going to do great,” he told me.
“Thanks,” I whispered and then broke away to stand before the crowd.
My palms were sweating, and my heart was already ratcheting back up, but every time I felt out of control, I brought my gaze back to Isaac. It was a short speech. Really more of a thank-you than anything. Nothing more than what Kathy had said at the beginning of the night. But still, by the end of it, I was uncomfortable and damn glad it was over.
When everyone left the room, I collapsed into a chair. “This was not how I’d thought this night was going to go.”
Isaac chuckled and sat down next to me. “No, me neither.”
“What did you expect?” I asked him hopefully.
“Well, I wanted to ask you out.”
“Oh!”
He shrugged. “Feels like maybe too much with everything else going on.”
“I’m only here for a month, Isaac,” I warned him.
“I know. And I know that should matter to me.” He reached out and took my hand. “But it doesn’t.”
My heart thumped a whole new rhythm in my chest. This was one of hope. I’d wanted Isaac Donoghue for as long as I could remember. It felt too right when I was with him. Saying no now would be absurd. Even if there was only a month…at least we’d have a month.
“Okay, I’d like that.”
10
Peyton
Kathy had a healthy, bouncing baby girl named Lily.
And in her next breath, she named me the interim artistic director.
In my shock, the only answer I could find was yes.
Cassidy had spent all day on the phone, trying to find someone to take over. The interim AD, who had planned to come in January, couldn’t be here earlier than Christmas. She was running her own Nutcracker until then. And every other person that Cassidy could get to take her call couldn’t do it. Everything was too short of notice. What person in their right mind would come in as the artistic director the day before opening night?
Me.
I was that idiot.
Luckily, I had more than twenty years of experience with The Nutcracker, and I had played every role. Though I didn’t know all the choreography for this Nutcracker since Kathy had clearly re-choreographed some of the roles to her company members’ strengths, I could at least get us through the last day of run-throughs and a full-dress rehearsal. And I did.
Dress rehearsal wasn’t a complete disaster. Though I was ready to strangle Katelyn Lawson by the end of it. She had taken every opportunity to insert herself where she didn’t belong. If she did that tonight, during opening night, then I was going to personally kick her out of the pre-professional company. I really didn’t know how Kathy had dealt with her. If anyone acted like that at the School of American Ballet, they would be sent home. No questions asked.
Luckily, I hadn’t heard a