Hot Christmas Nights by Farrah Rochon

Author:Farrah Rochon [Rochon, Farrah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-09-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Wendy taught ballet classes every week, but teaching and dancing, though intricately intertwined, were two different animals. While teaching required her to dissect the mechanics of the dance, dancing allowed her to connect with them on a physical, almost spiritual plane. Dancing required her to move within the music and movement was what she needed right now. When all else failed, it was what kept her mind clear and focused...and blank. En pointe, nothing else mattered, nothing except the combination of muscle and skill, of technique. Balance was everything. There was no room left for thought or feeling.

She chose the first movement of Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik to put her through her warm-up paces. Then, when she was damp with perspiration and her muscles were so loose that they flowed like liquid, she slipped another CD into the boom box. The music on it—five arrangements in all—were twisted fusions of R&B/hip-hop and classical music that couldn’t be found in any retail store. She’d had the tracks created especially for her own use and the choreography that she had paired with each track was part of the reason the Greeley Dance Company wanted her to train its students. What better way to engage inner-city youth in the art of ballet than to show them how it could be used to make hip-hop come alive? And who better to show their students exactly how to merge the two than Wendy?

She certainly wasn’t the first dancer to come up with the concept of a hybrid dance genre, but she was definitely one of the best choreographers to create movement within it, even with a less-than-perfect leg.

En pointe she waited for the first track to begin and then, when it did, she let it lead her into oblivion. There, she didn’t think about the fact that she hadn’t seen or spoken to Frazier in almost two weeks, because every time she did, the shock of missing him punched her in the gut harder than any fist ever could. It made her want to curl up into a ball and do something that she hadn’t allowed herself to do in earnest since the day she learned she would never dance on Broadway—cry.

More than anything, she missed his friendship. He was such a huge part of her life that his absence left a giant, yawning void that she didn’t know what to do with. Dancing helped, but after the music stopped, he reclaimed his place in her thoughts, took control of her ability to focus and then the cycle began all over again.

It stopped just then, a five-second break between songs, and the studio was completely silent. The soundproof walls blocked sound from outside and tended to amplify sounds from within. That’s why she heard it as clearly as she did—a soft breath expelled into the room. Not close, but close enough. To Wendy, it seemed as if she could feel the heat of that breath on her damp skin.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, wondering if she might be hallucinating and praying that she wasn’t.

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