learn about this business, about life and about her. Her recent antics in order to bring attention to herself were truly pathetic. She was a child in a woman’s body who used it to her singular purpose, to dance center stage as the Capitol Ballet Company’s prima ballerina. Juliet shook her head. Youth was truly wasted on the young.
As Juliet continued walking to her dressing room, the aptly named backstage manager, Roger Payne, appeared at her side carrying his usual clipboard and pen. With mousy blond hair that always needed to be trimmed and his wire-framed glasses falling off his nose, he had a heart of gold. At twenty-five, this was his first real job out of college. He had fish-belly-colored skin that freckled like polka-dot wall paper every summer and an impossibly wide-eyed, rose-colored view of ballet that was incredibly naïve. He gave credence to the dream she once coveted before the reality of life as a dancer came along.
“Juliet,” he quickened his step to keep pace with her long stride. “Your friend, Patricia, called and said she’d call again later. Also Senator Kingsley called, he sends his regrets. He won’t be available this evening. He was detained on Capitol Hill.”
“Yes, thank you, I heard,” she said as she brushed him aside and continued walking.
“One more thing, Chester’s looking for you.
“What else is new?”
“There’s someone he wants you to meet.”
“I bet,” she smirked without breaking stride.
“He said that this was important.”
“It always is,” she muttered.
Chester Banks, the company publicist, had been after her since the day he’d been hired. It seemed his sole purpose for life was to drive her crazy and get her to participate in as many of his fundraising events as humanly possible.
“They’re on the way to your dressing room.” Roger stopped. Juliet stopped. He knew that would get her attention.
She turned to him. “Who’s on their way to my dressing room?”
“Chester and his guest, the sponsor of tonight’s performance,” he said.
“He’s taking someone to my dressing room?” Juliet said slowly, enunciating each syllable gradually. The look in her eye was unmistakably fierce.
Roger shifted the clipboard awkwardly. He’d recognized that look instantly. He had just lit her fuse, and an explosion was imminent. He just hoped that he wasn’t anywhere near when she blew.
Juliet had a reputation for being short-tempered on her good days. But after a performance, she could be an absolute tyrant. And now Chester had crossed the line by invading her private space. Roger took a step back and threw his hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m only giving you a heads-up.”
She glared at him a moment longer then continued her quick pace. “Thanks messenger,” she said cynically and walked away.
Knowing how Juliet hated being paraded around like a glorified show dog, he didn’t take offense. “One more thing, I need to know what time to expect you this evening. Phillip has several major patrons that have already asked to meet you tonight. Chester says that it’s extremely important that you be there this evening. What time?”
“How about quarter past never,” she said as she was engulfed by other dancers hurrying down the hall to the dressing rooms. “But I might be late.”
Juliet smiled to herself. This was one of the few fundraisers that she actually planned to attend. Her friend Patricia was dying to get out of the house and this was the perfect opportunity so she readily agreed to go with Juliet. But she refused to let Roger, or anyone else know just in case she changed her mind.
“You have to be there tonight. It’s important.” She heard him call out after her. “You know as soon I tell him you’re not going, he’s gonna have a fit, don’t you?”
She waved her hand ignoring Roger’s usual paranoia and turned down the labyrinth like hallway into the belly of the theater. Turning the last
As Juliet continued walking to her dressing room, the aptly named backstage manager, Roger Payne, appeared at her side carrying his usual clipboard and pen. With mousy blond hair that always needed to be trimmed and his wire-framed glasses falling off his nose, he had a heart of gold. At twenty-five, this was his first real job out of college. He had fish-belly-colored skin that freckled like polka-dot wall paper every summer and an impossibly wide-eyed, rose-colored view of ballet that was incredibly naïve. He gave credence to the dream she once coveted before the reality of life as a dancer came along.
“Juliet,” he quickened his step to keep pace with her long stride. “Your friend, Patricia, called and said she’d call again later. Also Senator Kingsley called, he sends his regrets. He won’t be available this evening. He was detained on Capitol Hill.”
“Yes, thank you, I heard,” she said as she brushed him aside and continued walking.
“One more thing, Chester’s looking for you.
“What else is new?”
“There’s someone he wants you to meet.”
“I bet,” she smirked without breaking stride.
“He said that this was important.”
“It always is,” she muttered.
Chester Banks, the company publicist, had been after her since the day he’d been hired. It seemed his sole purpose for life was to drive her crazy and get her to participate in as many of his fundraising events as humanly possible.
“They’re on the way to your dressing room.” Roger stopped. Juliet stopped. He knew that would get her attention.
She turned to him. “Who’s on their way to my dressing room?”
“Chester and his guest, the sponsor of tonight’s performance,” he said.
“He’s taking someone to my dressing room?” Juliet said slowly, enunciating each syllable gradually. The look in her eye was unmistakably fierce.
Roger shifted the clipboard awkwardly. He’d recognized that look instantly. He had just lit her fuse, and an explosion was imminent. He just hoped that he wasn’t anywhere near when she blew.
Juliet had a reputation for being short-tempered on her good days. But after a performance, she could be an absolute tyrant. And now Chester had crossed the line by invading her private space. Roger took a step back and threw his hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m only giving you a heads-up.”
She glared at him a moment longer then continued her quick pace. “Thanks messenger,” she said cynically and walked away.
Knowing how Juliet hated being paraded around like a glorified show dog, he didn’t take offense. “One more thing, I need to know what time to expect you this evening. Phillip has several major patrons that have already asked to meet you tonight. Chester says that it’s extremely important that you be there this evening. What time?”
“How about quarter past never,” she said as she was engulfed by other dancers hurrying down the hall to the dressing rooms. “But I might be late.”
Juliet smiled to herself. This was one of the few fundraisers that she actually planned to attend. Her friend Patricia was dying to get out of the house and this was the perfect opportunity so she readily agreed to go with Juliet. But she refused to let Roger, or anyone else know just in case she changed her mind.
“You have to be there tonight. It’s important.” She heard him call out after her. “You know as soon I tell him you’re not going, he’s gonna have a fit, don’t you?”
She waved her hand ignoring Roger’s usual paranoia and turned down the labyrinth like hallway into the belly of the theater. Turning the last
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