Free Counterpointe by Ann Warner Page A

that?”
     
    “I’m sorry to say you’ve failed to make the progress we’ve expected and hoped for.” It was the kind of kiss-off line artistic directors employed when letting a dancer go. And Lisa knew it.
     
    Her eyes widened and her lips curled. “And what progress is that?”
     
    “Why, we’ve been hoping you’d turn out to be human. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to be happening.”
     
    “It eats, it sleeps, it dances, it showers, but it’s still a bitch,” another dancer intoned. Applause greeted the line.
     
    “You, you are...” Lisa grabbed her dance bag, whirled, and pushed her way into one of the shower cubicles.
     
    The water was still running when Denise and Clare left the changing room ten minutes later.
     
    “You know she might be right about me,” Denise said.
     
    “No, she’s not. She’s picking on you because you’re good. She never wastes her jabs on someone who isn’t a threat.”
     
    “I’m no threat at the moment.”
     
    “But you will be after you go home and get out the Tiger Balm and wrap that ankle in Saran wrap and elevate. You’ll come back stronger than ever. And she knows it. That’s why she’s taking her shot now.”
     
    “I don’t know how much longer I can hang on. If Justin doesn’t promote me this year...”
     
    “You can’t control what Justin does. All you can do is your best.”
     
    “But, I’m not like you, Clare. Dance isn’t everything to me. Sometimes I get so tired of fighting it. The injuries, the disappointments, and when was the last time you didn’t wince when you looked at your feet? Maybe it is time.”
     
    “You’re a wonderful dancer. You can’t listen to Lisa. After all, you know what happens when you let a Vulcan get to you.”
     
    “Haven’t a clue.”
     
    “Sure you do. Your ears grow points but you can’t open your mouth without saying something pointless.”
     
    “Like Lisa.”
     
    “Exactly like Lisa. Look at it this way. You and I have been making first cast regularly while Lisa’s been stuck in second.”
     
    “That’s because you’re better than she is.”
     
    “Not entirely. Lisa’s a terrific dancer with excellent technical skills, but she has no heart. And everyone knows it.”
     

    “Have you heard the news about Zachary Showalter?” Lisa sidled to a barre position near Clare, but she directed the comment to the dancer next to Clare who was stretching in preparation for company class.
     
    “He said he’d never had a more intuitive and talented partner than Belinda Schwarz. They just won this year’s Pritzcovich Medal. Can you imagine if you were his partner and he bounced you? It would be like being given the boot by Nureyev.”
     
    Clearly, a blatant attempt on Lisa’s part to push Clare’s buttons. Unfortunately for Lisa, it didn’t work. Not a single button had moved even slightly, and when had it happened—that Clare could think about Zach without any accompanying twinges of regret?
     
    She stifled the impulse to give Lisa a hug.
     

Chapter Six
     

    Divertissement
     
    A short dance offered as entertainment between the main parts
     

    The intercom buzzed and woke Rob from a feverish dream. He peered at the clock—four forty-five—but whether it was a.m. or p.m. was open to question.
     
    No. Afternoon. Must be, although it was dark out. He sat on the edge of the bed waiting for the dizziness to ease before going to answer the intercom. The buzzer went off again, sending pain shooting through his head.
     
    “Who is it?” His voice was gruff with both congestion and irritation.
     
    “Rob, it’s me. Clare. Can I come up? Please?”
     
    What was she doing here? He’d called her, first thing this morning to tell her their Christmas Eve, and probably Christmas Day, plans had to be canceled.
     
    “I don’t want you to get my bug.”
     
    “I’ll be careful.”
     
    After hitting the lock release for the main door and leaving his front door ajar so she could get