“I’m sure he doesn’t fucking care. That guy’s got a thorn in his side and it’s got prima ballerina Koslova written all over it.”
“You know what’s weird?” I lower my voice, suddenly wanting to confess everything to my friend, get it all out in the open and off of my chest. “Whenever we’re alone, he tries to feed me. Like puts food in my mouth and forces me to eat it.”
Bronson turns to face me, his big brown eyes wide with surprise. “Shit, Koslova. The man’s in love with you,” he says.
“I’m pretty sure he hates me.” My face twists in confusion.
“Well, I don’t know how you grew up, Taye, but in my family, love equals food. From my grandmother to my aunties. If they love someone, they fill their bellies.”
I shrug and battement to the side, turning in my hip and swiveling up into a passé to loosen the joint. “Well, he’s constantly trying to fill my belly.”
“Here I thought Cunningham wanted to eat you, and the poor boy wants to feed you. I had him all wrong,” Bronson says with a little stomp of his foot.
“Keep him away from me and we’ll get through this production just fine.”
“I can do that,” Bronson says confidently. “This whole piece has a jilted lovers feel to it, so if anything, Tate got his casting right. We’re about to bring the heat to the Studio Company stage this season.”
When we take our places for the run-through, Dashiell gives me a curt nod with his chin, and I lower my head and eyes like a ballerina does when greeting an elder. Dash responds with a wolfish smile and jerks Dahlia’s lithe form into his chest, holding her tightly. I turn my head and look up at Bronson as he takes his position behind me.
“Lord have mercy,” he says as the music abruptly starts.
It’s awkward living in the same building as Dashiell so I’ve retreated to Mother’s under the pretense of keeping her company until Dad returns from Baltimore. But the reality is that in the gilded cage, I stay as far away from her as possible, spending my time with Shareen, who feels more like my real mother.
She shows me pictures of her son Marshall, and we talk about her plans for retirement and how she’s been building a house with part of her income. I always end up apologizing for Katerina, but Shareen is the boss and takes no shit from Mother—she’s the only one in the world who gets away with it. Not even my dad stands up to Katerina.
“Please, child, your mother is a sheep in wolf’s clothing. I wish she didn’t get to you as much as she does. I thought the new apartment would change that, Natayla, but here we are.”
“Dash Cunningham lives in the building.” I take a throw pillow and cover my face with it as I lay back on the couch. I don’t want Shareen to read me as easily as she always does.
“And that’s a problem? He’s a good man, Natayla. He and his mother are good people. I’m not saying that because we enjoyed him on the television program. He and his mom Lizzy have always been good people, and I’m talking about the time you were at Haverton together.”
“I can’t live that close to him. He makes me crazy.”
Shareen grabs the pillow off my face and gently hits me in the stomach with it before replacing it on the sectional.
“It’s not where he lives. He’s making you crazy because he lives in here.” Shareen points to her head.
I grab another pillow to hide behind. “What do I do?” I’m genuinely at a loss. I can’t ask Mother for advice, and all of my dancer friends know Dash Cunningham.
Just then, Mother walks through the formal living room, stops, and glares at me.
“Natayla, sit up. No feet on the sofa. I don’t know how you live at your little hovel, but here we have rules.” She goes to turn away but then pauses. “Rules that Shareen bends for you. Don’t spoil the girl.”
“Katerina, Natayla is no longer a child, and I think it’s wonderful that she still comes to visit her mother,” Shareen replies smartly. “I’m always on Marshall to stop by and share a meal with his parents every once in a while. Once they fly the coop, Katerina, they don’t have to come back, you know.”
Mother raises her eyebrows. They’re already suspended from her predilection for Botox, which is Botulism toxin, so maybe it will kill her instead of preserving her. But chances are she’ll absorb it just fine as she already has poison running through her veins.
“I don’t know about sharing a meal, but I guess it’s fine if you recline, Natayla, just not in front of company.” Katerina has the last word as she exits the living room.