Pointe of Breaking (13 page)

Leo would be mine if I had any effing say in the matters of my heart. God damn it! It was everything I could do short of shoving my vagina in the deepfreeze to concentrate on ballet right now! Leo had done everything possible right, and I was left strung out like it’d been my first time seeing a guy naked!

Damn his fuck-me gaze. Screw his two percent body fat. Blow his snarky-ass responses. My voice box was fucked all to hell, and we hadn’t even done it! I was already on a one-way trip down the aisle prepared to scream out two scary words: fuck me!

After our cat-nap on my futon, Leo had been good to go again…and I wasn’t about to turn down a little more action. The idea of exploring how many
things
we could do together was electrifying. And we were on our merry way to discovering them; I just effing wished we could have finished what we’d started! But
nooo.
That would have been too damn perfect.

Leo had taken off after...well, after Ivan “informed” Leo that he had a spare key by walking in on Leo preparing to go down on me. I didn’t know who was more upset. “Guy L” trying not to be upset that “Guy I” had direct means to my studio. Or that “Guy I” had to calm “Guy L” down so he didn’t get knocked out by his right hook. Fucking men! They were all caught up in whose-got-the-bigger-dick-drama while “Girl A” was strung out, seconds from experiencing bliss!

***

The subway ride to Joffrey with Ivan was a fun one. I got the distinct impression that, after this morning, he would be just fine staying at Joffrey and finding a new dance partner. That was probably for the better. I sincerely believed that my conversation with Higgins would end as well as my drizzled climax. Hot, bothered, and ready to take pent-up aggression out on anyone.

“Ivan, I just don’t understand why
you’re
so upset! Talk to me!” I pressed my lips together to keep from yelling at him to grow a pair.

“Your boy-toy has jealousy issues, Addy,” he balked, holding onto the balance rail on the subway.

I couldn’t deny that. Leo hadn’t acted smoothly this morning. Of course, Ivan could have gawked a little less.

“He’s just protective of me.”

“He thinks I’m into you!”

“Aren’t you?” I asked and the pressed my lips together. I was seriously worked up. “Not everything we act out on stage is faux. You have to feel some of that offstage.”

“I’ve been your partner for years, Addy. Years! I’ve seen you through some shit, and then this guy walks into your life and suddenly
I’m
defending and re-defining what
we
are? Let me make this clear.
We
are partners.
We
are friends.
We
make a fucking living with our bodies and the ability to push ourselves to the limits. So yeah,
we
have to mix well. Do I think being with you offstage would ruin our partnership? Yes! And since
we
both have the mutual understanding that the ballet is priority number one,
we
work.”

Ivan glanced up at the digital screen that indicated that we were arriving at our stop. “This is us.”

We came up from the subway. I followed him into Joffrey, giving him some space to simmer down. When we were ready for rehearsal, he held the door open for me as we entered the dancing floor. The room fell silent upon my entrance. Higgins’ face went icy just as it had been for the past week.

“Joffrey’s Board of Directors has made a decision,” Ms. Higgins said stiffly. “My office. Now.”

We followed her out of the practice room. If her pressed lips and sub-zero glare were any indication of how this meeting would play out; we were totally screwed.

Ivan followed behind me, closing the office door behind us. We weren’t alone. One man and one woman both twice my age sat in the seats. The woman appeared oddly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her. I never thought that a woman in a Chanel pantsuit fiddling with a pearl necklace could be so menacing. Her pearl necklace had to be more than my annual salary at Cuppa. I doubted that her bright red Birkin Bag was a knock-off. Her hundred dollar haircut left me feeling underdressed in my barre workout attire that consisted of black leggings over my fitted grey tights and a yoga top. Her brown hair lay still onto her shoulders in tight, brown curls like they’d been hairsprayed to death. Not a single lock out of place. I tried not to notice as she threw daggers at me with her striking dark-brown eyes. Her glare was nothing compared to Ms. Higgins, who was eyeing me from behind her desk like I had purposely sabotaged the school.

At least the gentleman sitting next to the stuffy Chanel woman seemed to acknowledge the fact that I was a human and had actual feelings. Under his white mustache was a gentle smile. His hair had all but vacated his head, shining in the room. He had the lean body of a male danseur, but now dressed in pin-striped suits rather than dance wear. He clutched his Fedora hat as he shook our hands.

“Ivan, Adeline, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said politely. “I’m Mr. Scott. A talent agent for Focal Pointe Contemporary Ballet Company.”

“I assure you it is our pleasure,” Ivan said. All his anger and frustration with me earlier evaporated. “Focal Pointe is doing some amazing things.”

“
We
are honored to meet
you
,” I stated.

The woman rolled her eyes. Ms. Higgins extended her hand. “And this is Evelyn Richards. Adeline, you might be interested in meeting the woman who has funded the scholarship you received.”

Evelyn Richards?
Leo’s mom?
I struggled to keep the astonishment and horror off of my face. I envisioned meeting his mother vastly different. She looked ready to beat me with her purse and walk all over me with her Louis Vuitton shoes! The blood drained from my face. My scholarship…

Laying her hands on her desk, Higgins clenched them together. “Your Areosmith performance has had varied results. I’m disappointed to say that several scouts stopped pursuing you after your stunt in the fishnets.”

I had multiple scouts? Why had no one told me?

Ms. Higgins opened her desk drawer and pulled out another tabloid. I couldn’t read the headline, but how could I not see the infamous image of Leo carrying me with my tutu framing my butt? “Four were considering you for contract until
Bad Girl Aerosmith Ballerina
hit the headlines.”

I hadn’t seen this paper. Ivan was determined to stare at anything but me. His nondescript behavior meant one thing. I hadn’t just made two papers. There had been more… My humiliation was immeasurable.

“Mrs. Richards is revoking your scholarship after the negative publicity their company has endured,” Higgins said, getting back to business. “They are also considering pulling
all
their funding from Joffrey.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe it! “Because Leo was kind enough to drive me home?”

“
Leonardo
was foolish to associate himself with…” Evelyn looked me up and down like I was a gold-digging whore. Her judgmental glance confirmed every horrible fear I had. “…girls like you.”

“So you’re really going to just let us go after Joffrey sold out every show?” Ivan asked in disbelief.

“Joffrey School of Ballet will not tolerate this lack of discipline from any of our students.” Higgins smiled brightly. “
You
however are more than welcome to stay in attendance.
You
did not show up late for the show.
You
did not make a mockery of the show’s attire.
You
didn’t parade around in the streets after the show. So
you’re
more than welcome to stay. We’ve already lined up another prima for you to partner with for the next show.”

“There won’t be another show.” Ivan slipped his hand next to mine. “Why are you here, Mr. Scott?”

Ms. Higgins answered for him. “Mr. Scott insisted on seeing Adeline perform once more before making a decision regarding your career. Because of our long-standing friendship, Joffrey has agreed to a private showing.”

“Why has Mrs. Richards requested an audience?” I asked, unable to meet her gaze.

“If Adeline can prove to Mrs. Richards that we teach only the most gifted and dedicated dancers, she won’t pull our funding,” Higgins stated.

The look on Ivan’s face was one of absolute determination. “Get your pointes.”

As I swerved effortlessly through the Sunday traffic, I mulled over different ways to convince Adeline to take back the key she gave to Ivan. That ink-stained dance partner of hers was really getting on my nerves. Friends or not, privacy was crucial. And I so did not appreciate the contemptuous glare he shot me while I was kissing my girl goodbye.

I might just have to get a guy over there to change her fucking locks. I smirked, imagining Adeline yelling at me for doing something like that without her consent. She was independent and feisty as hell…hopefully she’d yell at me. I loved that sound. Her voice got kind of raspy and scratchy when she shouted. It was so different from the quiet, controlled voice that I’d heard from her all the other times. Damn she was sexy.

At the risk of sounding like a complete girl, my favorite part of our whole night/morning together wasn’t the part where she went down on me and rocked my fucking world. It wasn’t the part where I inhaled her until she screamed herself hoarse. Even though both of those activities were shit hot. My favorite part was when we fell asleep gazing into each other’s eyes.

Waiting at a stoplight, I tucked my nose into my jacket and breathed in deeply, catching a whiff of that tropical, fruity smell of hers. I loved having her scent on my jacket and on my face.
Fuck, cool your jets Leo, you gotta drive your bike right now, not ride it.

I pulled up to a giant white Manhattan high-rise next to Gramercy Park. It was ten to eleven and I sighed with relief that I wasn’t about to be late. Being late to these meetings was so not accepted here.

I parked my bike and jogged up to the doorman at the entrance. I quickly flashed him my “brand of honor” and he blinked, subtly clearing me for entrance. As I rode the posh elevator to the top floor, I rubbed the scar that my brothers had referred to as dueling scars. A badge of honor showing your willingness to fight for your rank…whatever the hell that meant.

I used to care. I used to think the meaning behind this brand was enthralling. To be a part of a society bigger than anything I had ever imagined. The men in this secret club that I shared this scar with were leaders. Pillars of our community. They were running New York City with fat wallets, hot women, and the world at their fingertips.

As a freshman Gamma Phi pledge, I’d thought it cool just to be in a member of a fraternity. To know that there was a secret even bigger than Gamma Phi sounded like I had finally arrived. I allowed it to consume me. I let their ideals be my ideals, and I saw myself change rapidly into who I thought they wanted me to be.

The elevator dinged and opened to the top-level penthouse. A doorman, who always refused to look me in the eye, opened the dark double wood doors, and I walked into a foyer full of men. Some were my current Gamma Phi fraternity brothers. Others were older, like my father. They all turned and gawked at me as I strolled past them in my black boots, dark scuffed jeans, and black leather jacket.

The dress code for these secret meetings was expensive tailored suits. We actually had a list of designers we had to pick from. These guys gave the phrase “power tie” a whole new meaning.

“Leo,” Micah scoffed, standing directly in the center of the foyer, blocking my entrance into the grand room. “What are you wearing? You’re breaking code.” He sneered at me and adjusted his tie with an air of condescension.

“It was either this or miss the meeting all together. I figured this was the lesser of two evils,” I replied, looking around him for Chase, but instead caught a glimpse of Blake standing next to my father.

My father, Douglas Richards, was dressed in one of his classic grey tailored suits. We were the same large, muscular build—my father instilled his love for fitness in me at an early age. He had salt and pepper hair and had only recently started looking older than forty, when in reality he was pushing fifty.

Good genes, Sasha used to say with pride.

Blake leaned in and spoke to my father in hushed tones. I did not like the look of that one bit. Blake stopped talking when we locked eyes. His chin dropped to match my death glare. Finally I broke my glower and gazed questioningly at my father whose brow was furrowed with worry. I was certain Blake had been relaying the drama from last night, but my bigger question was…how he was spinning it. Before I could make my way over to them, a voice from the other room cut over the low murmurings going on all around me.

“Now that we’re all here, we can begin,” stated a deep booming voice.

I recognized the voice as Sedric Rossi, Blake’s father. He was the one who ran the show at these meetings.

These meetings were what my entire family was built on. These meetings were what linked me permanently to Blake and everything I hated about him. These meetings were all a part of a secret society called the Gold that had been a part of Columbia Ivy League since the 1920s.

Sedric was the third generation of Rossis to over-see the order of the Gold. The Rossis and the Richards were two of the original founders of our secret club. Thus, my legacy status, both with the fraternity and with the brotherhood. Sedric was currently Master of the Gold and we were required to refer to him as such. With the huge Rossi Netmapping GPS conglomerate, they were major heavy hitters on the island of Manhattan. They had government connections that they used to their advantage, a lot. It also meant they could really mess up your life if they wanted to.

In other words, the Rossi’s were a big fucking deal.

In other words, kicking the shit out of Blake last night probably wasn’t the wisest decision of my life.

I bumped shoulders as I moved past Micah into the grand room and locked eyes with Master Rossi himself, dressed head to toe in a sleek black Armani suit. A lethal expression flitted over his tan face as he took in my scruffy jaw line and haphazard appearance. Sedric motioned with his hands and the huge room of suited men all stood and raised their right hands.

“Secret Society of the Gold, I call to you all,” Sedric began, tearing his murderous gaze off of me and addressing the room.

I, along with everyone else raised our right hands chanted:

“Upper, middle, lower and gold.

A desire we knew was foretold.

We breed the society we strive to be.

Marriage remains anything but free.

A brotherhood, unlike any other.

In death and secrecy, we promise to one another.”

Sedric then added, “Secret Society of the Gold. You are here of your own accord. I welcome you and call this meeting to order.”

I attempted to contain my scoff and then finally locked eyes with Chase who sat at a high top table adjacent to the sitting room. He eyed me questioningly, and I made my way over to him.

“You good?” he asked quietly.

I nodded and settled into the open seat next to him. Chase always felt like such a lifeline to me at these meetings. I looked around for his old man but didn’t see him.

“Your dad couldn’t make it?” I asked.

Chase groaned. “No, apparently he had a last minute business deal go down for his antique car-line and had to miss his flight up from Florida. And I quote,
it’s the Shelby Mustang of car deals, son.
So I’m stuck here representing our company while he is test driving vintage vehicles down south. Dude, I’d
kill
to be on the beaches right now. New York is already getting colder and the babes are taking refuge in sweaters.”

“Business and Transactions,” Sedric barked, smoothing his perfect black slicked-back hair and commencing the meeting with the usual order of business.

“First on our agenda,” Chase said mockingly under his breath. “Business and Transactions, a.k.a. Insider Trading.”

I rolled my eyes in agreement. The majority of the men in this room were a part of, or owned, huge fortune 500 companies. They would share their stock secrets and company information to the group and the treasurer would formulate a plan of attack for share purchasing that wouldn’t raise any red flags.

I mindlessly rubbed the initiation scar on my hand. It was the shape of a tree branch with various breaks meant to symbolize a hierarchy. What a joke. Looking back on it now, I couldn’t believe I let these fuckers brand me.

I tuned out this part of the meeting. I wasn’t interested in partaking in insider trading, even if my father may have been. Dear old dad was on his phone, no doubt taking notes that would better our advertising firm, Richards & Brown Advertising. That thought made my skin crawl.

My father inherited R&B when my grandfather passed away nine years ago. I was named after my grandfather but the only ones that actually called me Leonardo were the pretentious pricks in my family’s circle. My grandfather basically lived at R&B once he became the sole owner. His partner, Thomas Brown, died of brain cancer when I was just a baby and my grandmother passed before I was born. Essentially his entire life was R&B. It came as no surprise when the doctor said the heart attack was caused by stress.

It pained me that my family was so into the Gold’s bullshit. Because the truth was, I liked the vibe at R&B. I enjoyed the accounts and the projects we oversaw. The people we worked beside. R&B employed nearly 400 people and all of them looked up to my father, Douglas Richards.

I just wished the man they idolized wasn’t corrupt.

I didn’t even know the Gold existed until I started at Columbia. It was then that I learned just how dirty my grandfather’s business actually was. Whether I liked it or not, I was a part of the corrupt family business.

“There’s a huge trust fund collecting interest for you if you join,” my father had said after I first learned about the Gold my freshman year of college. “Joining the Gold will give you opportunities you wouldn’t have otherwise.”

What a load of shit. Joining was the biggest mistake I’d ever made. After my little park bench epiphany sophomore year, I tried to press my dad about us getting out of the Gold, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

Growing up, I loved my dad like any son would love their father. I remembered waking up at five in the morning just so I could work out with him in our penthouse-gym before he left for work. He was my idol. But as soon as he took over my grandfather’s advertising firm, our relationship changed. It became strained and nonexistent. Unfortunately, it was right around the time that I was becoming a teenager, so being a selfish, elitist, entitled shithead felt pretty damn good. Since my father was so busy running the company, anything I wanted, I got. I wasn’t even grateful for it either, because no one ever explained to me that it wasn’t like that for everyone.

My phone buzzed noisily in my pocket, snapping me out of my walk down memory lane. I instantly brightened with the hope that it was Adeline. I fished it out of my pocket and immediately deflated when I saw it was my mother, Evelyn Richards, number illuminating on the screen.

Chase gave me a quizzical look, and I just rolled my eyes, indicating it was nothing. He smirked and returned his focus back to Sedric.

Damn my mother was relentless. I knew being splashed over the newspapers last week pissed her off, but I didn’t give a shit. I was in a bubble of sexiness with Adeline, and I did not want to break out of it. If I could have gotten out of this meeting today, I would have. Watching Adeline in her pointes sounded like a much better way to spend my day.

The fact that my mom was still so upset about those tabloids made no fucking sense. She was in so damn deep with the politics of the Joffrey Ballet Company that she had turned into the biggest fucking snob. Where was the woman who campaigned to set up a scholarship program at Joffrey with my dad’s sacred stamp of approval? What the hell did she have against Adeline?

“So by making this military deal, not only will it benefit NetMapping, but your companies will benefit …” Blake said loudly, jarring me back into reality.

Braden, Blake’s brother, piped in, “In order not to raise any red flags by the IRS, all you need to do…”

The two were fucking identical in personality and looks. The sound of both of their voices was like gravel being scraped over an open wound in my ears.

After nearly an hour of charts, graphs, and discussions, I nudged Chase awake. He’d fallen asleep some thirty minutes into Blake’s lecture about how their GPS was the greatest invention of all time, but was now beginning to snore.

When Blake and Braden shut up, I had hoped that the meeting would be over.

Looking at the agenda on his iPad, Sedric barked out. “Social Issues.”

Blake abruptly stood up. He strode right toward me, fastening the buttons on his expensive pin-striped suit.

“I have one,” Blake said loudly. “Master Rossi, if I may have the floor again?”

Blake’s father gave a tight nod for him to continue. I accusingly glanced at my father to see if he had any idea what this was about since he and Blake were chatting it up before the meeting started. My father refused to meet my gaze.

His shameful expression gutted me.

“Brothers,” Blake started, and then turned to me with a smirk. He extended his arms out dramatically. “Last year, you helped me out of a grave mistake I made. A mistake that I knew all along was simply that…a mistake. A meaningless lapse of judgment that was so far beneath me that I still feel shame for it to this very day. Well, the time has come for us to help another brother.”