Free Off Balance (Ballet Theatre Chronicles Book 1) by Terez Mertes Rose

waiting while Lana changed. The first dress did not suit Lana’s body; it gaped at the hips and her flat chest and Lana looked uncomfortable. But the second dress was a marvel. The silken fabric seemed to melt into her body, highlighting her angles, her long legs. It made her look both sophisticated and seductively innocent.
    “Try it with the shoes,” Alice said. “You brought them in, right?”
    Lana nodded and a moment later, walked out of the dressing room. “Hey,” she exclaimed. “These shoes are more comfortable than they look.”
    And they looked good. So did Lana. She glided over to the three-way mirror at the far end of the dressing room, studied herself and fell silent. She turned to face Alice, a stunned expression on her face.
    Alice couldn’t hide her smile. “I do believe that works.”
    Lana looked down at the price tag and paled. “I can’t buy this,” she cried. “It’s five hundred dollars.”
    “Marked down from nine hundred. A steal. And you’re not buying it.” Alice’s smile broadened. “Gil is going to.”
    “No! That’s impossible.”
    Alice grew impatient. “Look, Lana. This is big, tonight. It’s worth potentially a quarter of a million dollars. If Gil wants to stage our show this way, fine. But he’s going to pay for the right costume.” She looked down at her watch. “Come on. We’re out of time.”
    Lana scowled at her but Alice scowled right back. A moment later Lana’s shoulders dropped and she gave a little nod.
    Dancers , Alice thought irritably. They were good at taking direction, at least.
     
    The party took place in Hillsborough, tucked into the foothills of the coastal mountain range paralleling Highway 280. Andy Redgrave’s home was impressive, more of a mansion than a house, the white sandstone exterior making it look like an Italian villa. A team of valet parking attendants hurried to open Gil’s car doors and take his keys. At the massive carved-oak front door a sharply attractive woman with a professional demeanor greeted them, checking Gil and Alice’s names off the invitation list before directing them into the two-story entryway. The last of the evening’s light glowed through the windows while strategically placed track lighting illuminated the high ceilings and the rest of the room.
    “Showtime,” Gil murmured to Alice, who nodded. Lana nervously chewed her lower lip.
    “Maybe this dress was the right call,” she said to Alice.
    “It was.”
    She’d harbored anxiety that Lana, even with the dress, would stand out as a liability, but that wasn’t proving to be the case. Lana comported herself well, moving through the entryway like the graceful dancer she was, taking in the statues, the marble floors, the staircase’s elaborate carved molding in a sweetly nervous, deferential manner. Gil excused himself to go hunt down Andy, and Lana stayed close to Alice as they entered the living room. When an announcement circulated that the musicians were going to perform shortly, they made their way to a salon where several dozen padded folding chairs had been set up to face a platform in the front of the room.
    Alice claimed three seats but as she was searching around for Gil, she turned to see, instead, Andy Redgrave.
    “Hello, Alice,” he said in that cool way of his. “Glad you could make it. Gil here, as well?”
    “Actually, he’s looking for you.”
    “Well. Here I am.”
    Tonight Andy was dressed more casually, in a pin-striped button-down oxford shirt and navy trousers, simple elegance that probably had cost a thousand dollars. He was more tanned than when Alice had last seen him; probably a day out on the yacht. The tan highlighted his blond hair and pale blue eyes. He looked handsome and all-powerful, like an Old Testament angel tossed down to earth, thrown into contemporary clothes and told to “act mortal but not too much.”
    She introduced Andy to Lana. “Lana’s a soloist with the company,” Alice added as they shook