Black Butterfly (8 page)

Opening the folder, he scanned the candid shots of the Chief Operating Officer of Hollister. The pictures would be just the ammunition he needed to bring that asshole to his knees. Hollister Textiles needed to go public, before the end of the fiscal year. He just needed to convince the board to turn over their investment portfolio to his company—Adams Global Solutions. He was real close. “Schedule a meeting for this evening.” Annemarie nodded. “We have to meet with the board members of Delstar Textiles. They are calling an emergency meeting since we’ve decided to withdraw our services.”

“Cancel it,” he said.

Annemarie cleared her throat in obvious surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Something wrong?”

“We need to be careful now with Delstar, we don’t want to attract the attention of the SEC. And frankly sir, in the five years I’ve worked for you, you’ve never cancelled anything on the itinerary. This meeting—”

“Am I to explain myself to you now?”

“Ah, no, sir. I’ll cancel it.”

He nodded. “Fine. I’m going to get Ms. Allen. She’s riding with us to the studio.”

“How many?” the hostess asked Nolen.

“One.” He pointed at Sydney. “I want to sit in her station.”

The girl looked back at Sydney who headed toward the drink dispensers. “Oh, she’ll be leaving soon.

How about—”

“No, put me in her station, and send her to me,” he said, fixing his eyes on the hostess.

The young woman frowned. “Whateva,” she snapped. She took a menu and stepped out from behind her podium. Nolen followed her through the diner to a booth. He removed his trench coat then slid in. The girl, with big gold hoop earrings with her name written in cursive through the middle, plopped down the menu and shot him an irritated look. “She’ll be ova in a minute.” she huffed, and then headed toward Sydney in the back.

The place was a cramped eating spot. Sydney barely made it around tables or to booths without having the hands of a patron reaching for her. He watched her with a handful of drinks and a flustered look on her face.

She turned and almost ran into the curly-haired hostess. “Watch it, Maria!” she said.

The short Latina rolled her eyes. “Some jerk is insisting that you wait on him.”

“Where’s Patrice?” Sydney asked.

“I don’t know!” Maria shot back, she marched off.

Sydney set the drinks on the table. Plucking straws from her apron, along with hot sauce and pepper, she asked if the couple needed anything else. The patrons thanked her, saying they were fine. Sighing, she pulled out her notepad and went to the next booth. “Can I—”

He smiled up at her cleverly. “Hello, Sydney.”

Caught off guard, she dropped her pad back into her apron pocket. “What are you doing here?” she asked, a quick glance behind her proved he arrived alone.

“I figured since you wouldn’t eat with me, I’d come eat with you.”

“You left your swanky, comfy little office on Wall Street to eat here? You must have a death wish or something.”

“Definitely.” He sat back, throwing his arm around the top of the booth, allowing his eyes to soak her in.

“Will you dance at my funeral?”

She shook her head emphatically no, then folded her arms. “How did you know where I work, or should I ask?”

“I told you I had talents.”

“Yeah, but I’ll bet that information came via your wallet.”

“Actually, there’s this little thing called the Internet. Have you heard of it?” Sydney laughed. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it. But my money says those manicured nails of yours have never even touched a keyboard to search for a lowly waitress.”

“You’ve got me there.”

Sydney nodded with apparent satisfaction just as another waitress walked in, looking flustered. She headed straight to Nolen’s table.

“I’m so sorry, Sydney. My babysitter flaked out on me, and I had to take Cammie to my mom’s.”

“It’s ok,” she said, pulling off her apron and looking at her watch. “Things happen. I understand.” Nolen observed, Sydney noticed the amused smirk on his face before he spoke. “Need a ride?”

“No,” she said with finality. Patrice frowned down at Nolen.

“You don’t want to be late,” Nolen said, tapping his watch.

Patrice hurried off to put up her things and hit the floor. Sydney checked the time on her watch again.

“What’s it going to cost me?” she asked, clearly irritated.

“Conversation.” He leaned forward in the booth and maintained her stare. “I’m harmless, and it’s on my way. C’mon, let me give you a ride.”

Sydney chewed on the inside of her lip. Patrice returned with her notepad and pen. “I can take care of him for you,” she said, flashing Nolen a smile.

“That won’t be necessary. Sydney and I have plans. Don’t we?” Running her hand back over her forehead, she sighed. “Ok, I need to get my things,” she mumbled, before she left. Pleased, Nolen only nodded in agreement. Yesterday he signed the papers with Xenia and their respective attorneys. He basically owned the ballet. He couldn’t wait to share the news with his butterfly.

Sydney reappeared in jeans and a puffy blue jacket. She put on her gloves and her backpack. “Let’s go, Mr. Stalker,” she said as she walked past him.

Nolen laughed softly. He exited the booth, slipped on his coat, and then followed her.

The car door swung open. The driver's gaze was steady and very intense. She avoided it as she slipped inside. Sydney was surprised to find another woman waiting in the limo. “Hello,” Sydney said.

The woman nodded.

Nolen got inside and the driver closed the door, cutting off the wintry breeze. “Sydney, this is Annemarie. She works for me.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sydney said.

The woman smiled politely but didn’t speak.

Nolen sat back. “So, are you nervous?”

Sydney looked over at him and nodded. “Yeah, I always get nervous before auditions.”

“You were great the first time I saw you. I’m sure you’ll be great today.”

“Despite my foot?” she asked with an arched brow.

“How is it by the way?”

She looked down at her feet. “Fine. But if you noticed, then I’m really worried about––”

“Trust me, there is nothing for you to worry about.”

Sydney frowned at the comment, but held her tongue. Even if she was to address it, she might not like his response, so she stared out the window and did a silent prayer his attentions would end there. Maybe today another dancer would catch his eye and he’d find a way to scratch that itch of his.

“Did I say something to offend you?” he asked.

She looked from the passenger window to the woman staring at her. The slight smirk on the woman’s face gave her the impression that his politeness wasn’t to be trusted. “Are you one of the show’s investors?” Sydney asked.

“It’s my show,” he replied in a dry matter-of-fact tone.

“I thought it was Xenia Minetti’s production?”

“It is, but I own it.”

Annemarie’s cell phone buzzed and she discreetly took the call.

Sydney’s eyes returned to her window, wishing the driver would hurry up. She became increasingly uncomfortable with her inability to remain firm with him. Once again she found herself in his company at his request. She wanted this part, but she wanted to earn it through her talents alone, not through yielding to his apparent lust for her.

“Something wrong?”

“I want you to know that I wasn’t trying to be rude the other night,” she said. “I did appreciate your generosity.”

Nolen looked faintly amused. “I think I’m the one that should apologize. I tried to, the other night, but you weren’t willing to listen.”

She waited to hear more.

“I shouldn’t have given you gifts without formally introducing myself and making my intentions clear. I offended you, and I’m sorry.”

Annemarie, spoke softly into the cell phone, however Sydney noticed her pensive stare above the rim of her glasses.

“Thank you,” Sydney said, relaxing a little.

“The COO of Hollister can’t see you today, sir,” Annemarie said, setting her phone aside.

Nolen frowned. “Did you tell his office that this was mandatory? The board convenes in a week,” he snapped.

“Yes, sir, but he has a speaking engagement at NYU today. He’s booked. The earliest opening would be first thing in the morning.”

Nolen clenched his gloved hand into a fist and turned to look out the window. After a moment, he cut his eyes back to Annemarie. “That’s fine. Work it in.”

Annemarie looked as if she thought he’d completely lost his mind, but she nodded, checked his schedule, and picked up the phone.

“Is everything ok?” Sydney asked Nolen.

“Yes, everything is fine.”

The limo pulled up in front of the studio, and Nolen's gaze turned to her. “Show time.” She smiled. “Yes, it is.”

The driver opened the door and Nolen got out, extending his hand.

Sydney accepted it, stepped onto the curb and locked eyes with Juan. He stood in front of the building, smoking a cigarette. He was wearing a pink shawl pulled down on his right shoulder with a pair of matching pink, pleated pants. He put out his cigarette and narrowed his eyes at her.

Nolen led her through the side entrance of the building; she glanced back to see Juan trailing behind.

They passed through a small group of dancers. Ms. Minetti stood in the middle of the girls. She turned, her smile dissolved into a frown when she noticed them together. Sydney nervously stepped to the left to put a bit of space between her and Nolen. He however remained expressionless. Xenia, fixed her eyes only on Sydney when she approached.

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” she addressed Nolen, but held Sydney’s stare.

“Decided to see the final pick for my investment,” he answered.

Xenia whirled around to her assistant. “Juan, escort Ms. Allen to the practice studio.”

“It’s Juanita, damn it!” he snapped. “C’mon, Ms. Thang.” He grabbed Sydney’s arm and pulled her along.

Reluctant but obedient she went with him. She even dared a final glance back at Nolen. He tracked her with his eyes, his gaze never wavering. None of it went unnoticed by Ms. Minetti.

“Did I do something to offend her?” Sydney asked.

“That fish? She thinks she’s got King Ding-a-ling over there hooked. But you and I know different, don’t we, girl?” He giggled. Letting her go, he walked around the table and checked off her name.

“He’s her boyfriend?” Sydney asked.

Juan looked up at her and smiled. “Boyfriend? She wishes. She can bat those fake lashes of hers and sling that bleached-out hair, but she’ll never wear the crown of being his girlfriend. That man could have any dessert he wants, and right now he’s got a craving for chocolate!”

Sydney looked back once more to find Nolen staring. Why on earth would he pursue her if he dated Xenia? She glared at him.

Juan handed Sydney her packet. “So what are you going to do now? First it was the Butterfly. Got some jungle love in that backpack to shake those hips to?”

Sydney tried to disguise her annoyance at his constant digs. She forced a smile to her lips. “No, I thought that it was a group dance-off, not a solo.”

Juan smiled, folding his arms. “It is, honey, but with that man in the audience, you just need to put a wiggle on that bottom of yours to get that part.”

She shook her head. This time laughter was the best medicine to ease her anxiety.

“Zenter Stage, join us!” Gustav called out to her from the open studio door. Juan and Sydney both looked up at the cackle of her voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sydney said, and then rushed off to the dressing room to change. Distracted by Nolen, she’d forgotten the time. That would have to stop. All of it. No matter how appealing his pursuit was, prima spot in the ballet was her only goal. She changed quickly, twisting her hair into a neat bun, and entered the rehearsal room where Madame Gustav was already speaking to the dancers. The old woman stopped and just stared at her. Sydney gave an apologetic smirk and tossed her backpack at the door before joining them.

“Hi,” Bet said through pressed lips.

“Hi,” Sydney said through her teeth.

Emily cut her eyes at Sydney.

Gustav began again, but her eyes never left Sydney’s. “Today iz different. I don’t care dat you’ve made it diz far. You’ve accomplished noting! Now, Enrique will walk you through de routine. Dere will be no other rehearsal. Diz iz it!” Gustav walked down the line of girls all balancing on the ballet barre. She checked them over for poise. When she reached Sydney again her eyes went to her feet. Sydney’s cheeks burned red, knowing what she must be thinking. But Gustav moved on.

“Lez begin!”

Portia tied the sash to her dress. Her hair, in untamed spirals, fell around her face. She looked back at her new lover, who lay naked with the sheets twisted around his waist. His chest glistened with sweat and she felt the same steam over her skin. He looked even tastier watching her that way. She could taste him on her tongue.

“So what do ya think?” she asked, exhilarated.

“I think you’ve chosen the wrong career.” He yawned.

“Excuse me?”

Todd sat up. “Tricks like the ones you just performed this afternoon could bring you more fame than anything I can do with my camera lens.”

The blood began to pound in her temples. Portia stiffened, momentarily abashed. “What about my other talents?”

Todd stared up at her but said nothing.

“Can I get a reference for Ford, some head shots? If you request me as your model, I can certainly make it for the Bella spread.”

“You’re not ready.”

“I’m not what?”

“You’re not ready. Your look has been done. You’re not ethnic enough. Besides, you’re pretty old. What are you? Twenty? Twenty-one?”

Portia picked up her boots and put them on. “I’m twenty-three, and that’s not old!”

“The camera says it is. I say it is. Sorry, Portia, but I don’t endorse overused goods.”

“Overused? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Todd reached to his right and picked up his camera. He looked at her through his viewfinder and then clicked the flash. Temporarily blinded, she blinked as tears welled in her eyes.

“I heard about your interviews. That’s why I gave you my card. Word is your tongue is quicker than the flash on this camera when wrapped around a man’s cock.” He chuckled, then snapped her picture again.