Trick smoothed his hand over her butt.
“You okay?”
She dredged up enough breath to nod and say, “Perfect.”
He leaned over her and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “Perfect is right.”
They ended up having pizza, salad, and breadsticks. She was going to have to dance her ass off next week to work it all off.
Chapter Six
Stella lay on the floor of the old theater where they rehearsed, her breaths sawing in and out.
“Get your ass up, Stella. We’re not done yet.”
At the moment she longed for something sharp so she could shove it in Lawrence’s scrawny neck. Unfortunately, that would be homicide and she’d lose her job and her paycheck.
She stared up at the rigging and the lights, pondering whether that was a bad idea or not. As she lay in a pool of sweat, every muscle in her body screaming in agony, she weighed the options.
Nope. Not a bad idea at all at the moment. In prison, she’d probably get a lot more rest. And food.
“Come on, honey. I’ll help you up.”
She took the hand offered by Lisa Jeffries, her friend and co-dancer. Launching to her feet, Stella winced as she stretched.
“He’s a dick,” Lisa said as they stood side by side. “I think he gets off seeing us suffer.”
Stella watched Lawrence walk away. “I don’t think. I know he does. What’s with the extra rehearsal time this week? The show doesn’t open until next spring. We haven’t even moved into the theater where we’ll be performing the show yet.”
Lisa nodded, raising her arms above her head to extend the stretch. “If he keeps this up, we’ll all be dead by then.”
Stella was so damned excited to be one of the lead dancers in a Broadway musical. She had no problem with a grueling rehearsal schedule, or a choreographer who demanded perfection in his dancers. She had a high expectation of herself, and she’d work nonstop to make sure her performance was perfect.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t bitch, moan, and whine about how hard it was. They all did. It was a perk of the job.
They rehearsed the opening scene for seven hours that day, over and over again until Stella wanted to scream every time the music played.
“By the time this show debuts, I’m going to hate every note of music in it,” Stella said after they were finally cut loose for the day and made their way back to the dressing-room areas.
Lisa nodded. “I wonder if the singers feel the same way. Can you imagine having to practice those songs over and over and over again for months?”
“I imagine they do.” Stella paused in packing up her bag to look over at Lisa. “But then it’s opening night and it’s like the very first time you’ve ever heard the music or danced to those songs. And it’s so exciting your heart wants to leap out of your chest, ya know?”
Lisa grinned. “I do know that feeling. And we’re leads this time, Stella. You and I have danced together for five years. Remember starting out in the back of the chorus, where no one could even see us?”
“Yes.” Stella took a seat. “Just another in a sea of dancers, indistinguishable. But we’re dancing leads in this one. We’ll be at the front of the stage.”
She could hardly believe it was true. Years of hard work, of paying her dues, of taking shit jobs just so she could cover the rent, had finally paid off. She had worked nonstop in a lot of shows, and she was a damn good dancer. She never took time off, and as soon as one show closed, she hit the audition circuit for another.
Now, she was going to be at the front of that stage, dancing in every scene.
She glanced over at Lisa, who’d been just like her. A beautiful young woman with dark skin, a sea of tightly wound black curls, and a true dancer’s body—all hard muscle and perfect lines. Working hard, perfecting her craft, and by Stella’s side every step of the way. They’d often been competitors for the same part, but they’d always been friends.
“As much as I hate these rehearsals, Lisa, I also love what’s going to happen on opening night. This is a big damn deal and we’ve worked our asses off for it.”
“Amen, sister. Now I’m going to go home to my husband and beg him for a foot massage. Thank God for a man with big, strong hands.”
The thought of someone giving her a foot massage made Stella groan. “Lucky woman.”
Lisa pointed one slender finger at her. “You could have yourself a man. You push them all away.”
Stella zipped up her bag and grabbed her coat, sliding her arms into it. “This is true. I have enough on my plate without dealing with a man in my life.”