Sascha met them out front with Isaak, who apparently would also be staying close by. Hadley unlocked the doors, and Sascha turned on the lights while Hadley removed her sweats.
“All right.” Sascha clapped her hands. “Let’s get started.”
Hadley got the impression the next month was going to be a bit like hell week in football. But, she couldn’t have hired a better teacher and was excited to be trained by a legend.
She spent close to an hour stretching under Sasha’s watchful eye. When Hadley finished, Sascha instructed her to dance one of her prepared routines. Hadley did and nearly broke out in tears when she saw the look on her grandmother’s face.
“It’s very rusty.” Sasha’s accent didn’t help. Hadley had to listen intently to follow along. “Listen up, ballet is in your blood, child! You’re Russian, the granddaughter of a dancer who graced the stages of Moscow and St. Petersburg. Ballet is not meant to be danced timidly. It is the most rigorous of all sports. And, yes, I said sports. The next month of your life is going to be grueling. I won’t go easy on you, and I won’t accept mediocre. Don’t cry. Tears are for failures. You, my dear, are not a failure, now dance again, with passion this time.”
For the next five hours, Hadley danced with the same reaction from her grandmother. Sascha critiqued every leap, every turn, and her hands and feet. Nothing was right. She wanted to cry. She felt her eyes burning and ground her teeth.
“Good girl,” Sascha praised, “tears are for the weak. Again.”
Angry now, her routine began with stanchly annoyed posture. Her calves burned from the pressure of her toes hovering above the floor. She released resentment through her fingers and toes with every leap. Her twirls were performed with perseverance. If her grandmother thought she would break, Hadley was determined to prove her wrong. She wanted this.
It was her dream.
She wouldn’t quit.
Sascha fought off a smile as she watched her granddaughter move powerfully across the floor with a renewed determination.
“Good! Yes!” she shouted.
When the routine ended, Hadley wanted to clap. She nailed it, but the firm expression on her grandmother’s face kept her from celebrating.
She waited.
“It was better, but not perfect. And to get into the ballet, you will need to be perfect.” Hadley’s shoulders sagged. “You will need to practice every day until the audition. I want you to take a leave of absence from your job.”
Hadley’s eyes bugged out.
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You will have to. Also, you need to watch your diet, no sweets, stick to vegetables and foods high in protein, preferably fish. I want you to drink a minimum of ten glasses of water per day. Plan to be here every day for eight to ten hours. The weekends you can rest. Although you should still spend an hour stretching on those days.”
Ballet boot camp by Sascha Mihaylov would surely test her will, and apparently Nutella was now off the menu. Hadley refused to be deterred. She wanted this.
“Anything else?” Hadley asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Not for now.” Sascha rubbed her eyes and stood quietly for a moment. “Thank you for letting me help you. I’m sure you’re still angry, but you deserve this opportunity. Not because you’re my granddaughter, but due to your incredible talent.”
“I should be thanking you. Not many people can say they trained with one of the greatest ballerinas in history.”
“Well, I have selfish reasons for doing so. I hope to gain a relationship with you beyond what we share in the studio.”
Hadley smiled and put a hand on her grandmother’s shoulder.
“I would like that, too. I’m working hard to move forward in my life, and I want you in it.”
It was the first candid smile Hadley had seen from her grandmother. It was beautiful.
Harold Duwatski stood across the street from the dance studio puffing a cigarette. This wasn’t his chance to seek revenge. Three body guards, whom he assumed were armed, blocked the doors. He had a gun. He could’ve shot them and killed Hadley, but his narcissistic side demanded more. He would wait. Getting to her was personal. His arrogance made him believe he could carry out his plans and get away with it before he disappeared. Shooting the men and an old lady would complicate his chances of succeeding. He would keep watch. She would make a mistake. Harold would wait years if he had to.
T
he month leading up to the audition was the most stressful her life had ever been. Hadley had managed to negotiate a month off, agreeing to work from home in the evenings. Monday through Friday, she trained from sunrise to sunset, and then worked for Paul until midnight or later. If not for Regina, she would’ve starved to death. She adored Miller’s housekeeper, more so after she put up with a two page letter from Sascha outlining what Hadley should eat, or, more importantly, should not eat.
Other than at night, when she climbed in next to him as he slept, Hadley rarely saw Miller during the week. Thankfully the weekends were theirs. They spent those days under the sheets, expressing how much they missed each other. Her openness in the bedroom still amazed them both. There had been a time in her life when Hadley didn’t think she could enjoy the act, that she would always relate a man’s touch to that of her former guardian. With Miller, it was only his hands and lips and body. His delicate way of guiding her through the experience carried her away from her past when they were together and made her believe in second chances.
Her usual anxiety was elevated by Duwatski’s disappearance. He seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. Not even Vito had been able to locate him. Constantly keeping her guard up, combined with the pressure of training was taking a toll on Hadley, physically and emotionally. Although he never showed himself, there were times she could sense his presence and knew he was watching her. Despite police speculation he had gone to Mexico or Canada, Hadley knew he was close by, waiting for his chance.
The final Saturday in September, Hadley sat on a chair outside of the New York City Ballet rehearsal studio. Every inch of her body ached. Her toes were bruised. The violent shaking of her legs and fingers made it difficult to lace her pointe shoes. Miller sat next to her, feeling helpless. There was nothing he could do to make this easier for her. A few days ago, he’d considered buying her way in, but changed his mind, knowing how furious she would be. Seeing her so nervous now, he wished he would’ve went through with it and begged her forgiveness.
When her name was called, they both stood.
Miller held her shoulders and kissed her forehead.
“You’re going to be brilliant. I love you.”
She smiled and went into the studio.
Hadley stood in front of the judges, attempting to ignore the quake in her stomach. Her grandmother’s voice from this morning screamed in her ears.
“I’m proud of you. Your hard work is to be commended. Now go show them ballet is in your blood. Remember, don’t be weak. Speak loudly with confidence. Tell them who you are and why you want this, but quickly. They don’t want to hear you rattle on. Then dance with a grace they’ve never seen, because that, my dear granddaughter, is how you’ve danced for me, and it has been a joy to watch.”
Remembering the compliment made Hadley’s eyes water. She exhaled slowly. With her fingers laced in front of her, she stared at the judges.
When asked to introduce herself, she said, “My name is Hadley Walker. Dancing for the ballet is my dream. Today, my performance is the story of my life.”
“Thank you, Ms. Walker. You may begin.”
Hadley cleared her throat and shifted her body to her starting posture, high on her toes, her arms cradled at her sides. She smiled on the inside, waiting for the beginning of “Skyscraper” by Demi Lovato to begin.
Hadley once believed the walls around her heart were as high as skyscrapers, now she believed it was the height she’d soared to overcome her past. Her grandmother had frowned at her untraditional choice until Hadley explained what the song meant to her. It was now an anthem, a tribute to her survival, a message to Duwatski, her father, the old voice in her head, and anyone who ever made her feel worthless. She survived and was here to stay. The lyrics were fuel to perform, to succeed, and to love the people in her life who offered their love in return, no conditions and no strings.
As the music began, Hadley extended her arms and twirled effortlessly across the floor. She executed the entire routine to perfection, leaping higher and stretching further than ever before, all assemblés, each jeté, effortless. With every inspirational verse, her smile grew along with her confidence.
To close, she performed a grand pirouette into a grand plié. As she bent her knees, folded her arms, and curled her body into a ball, she knew without doubt, she would soon be dancing on a stage that, until a month ago, was only a dream. Sascha, who watched out of sight, agreed. Her granddaughter danced flawlessly. If not inappropriate, she would shout her praises. Hadley curtsied. The judges thanked her without expressing a hint of their opinions. Their words flat and their expressions so blank, Hadley couldn’t look at them without making assumptions.
She walked out of the studio and threw her arms around the man she loved. He lifted her up and spun her around.
“I assume it went well,” Miller said and set her on her feet. The smile on her face thrilled him.
“I know I did well, but I couldn’t tell anything by their faces.”
Sasha came through a side door. She hugged her granddaughter and then looked her in the eyes. “That was the best audition I have ever witnessed.” Hadley swallowed and thanked her. “Now you may cry,” Sascha added, and Hadley did, tears of joy.
“So, how long until she hears?” Miller asked.
“They will make the announcement tomorrow morning at nine am. I’ll call you the second I know anything.”
Hadley’s smile reached her eyes.
“Thank you, Sascha.”
“Oh, no thanks are needed. I’m happy to deliver the news personally.”
“That wasn’t what I was referring to.” Two generations gazes locked. “Thank you for finding me, for making me listen, and for training me. If not for you, this wouldn’t be happening.”
“Yes, well it may have been my recommendation that got you the audition, but it was your heart and your determination, dear granddaughter, that made you incredible. One can only be pushed as far as they are willing to go, and for you that was all the way.”
“This has been my dream forever. I want it so badly.”
Sascha smiled as she remembered a time she felt the same.
“You try to sleep tonight. In my opinion, the position is yours.”
Hadley hugged her grandmother goodbye, clinging to those words.
As exhausted as Hadley felt, sleep didn’t come. Lucky for her, Miller wasn’t able to sleep either. He distracted her by worshipping her body, which started with rubbing her sore feet and calves. After slowly undressing her, he had her lie on her stomach. He massaged her legs, eventually moving his hands to her back and shoulders. When she rolled to her back, he split her thighs with his body and thrust into her. She arched her back, crying out his name. They made love until the sun rose, and then fell asleep in each other’s arms.