A Wright Christmas

“I’m really glad that you made it,” she said instead when she looked back to me.

“I said that I would.”

“I know, but you have Aly, and I didn’t consider how you were going to get away. This isn’t even a real performance or anything.”

“Aly is fine. She’s with Annie for the night, who was happy to make her go to bed and then study some oversized medical text.”

“Well, that’s nice of her, but—”

“And I didn’t want to miss it, Peyton,” I assured her. “You were really amazing onstage.”

She flushed and covered it by taking another sip of her champagne. “Thank you. It wasn’t much.”

“That’s not true. You’ve always been great, but now, you’re beyond anything that I’ve seen. I can tell you’ve spent years perfecting your craft.”

And I wasn’t just blowing smoke. Dance brought out something in her. It was a light, a beacon. She glowed onstage, as if there were nowhere else she was supposed to be in the world.

I remembered the first time that I’d seen her dance. Ironically, it was a Nutcracker performance. She had been dancing Arabian, and though it was easily the only piece in Nutcracker that had any sex appeal, all I saw was a girl who had been born for the stage. A girl that I couldn’t live without. It felt dramatic for the time, but I was fifteen years old. We’d been dating for four months, and when she had come out from backstage, I’d told her I loved her.

“Well, I’m glad the years have paid off,” she said, modest as ever.

She was on top of her game. What the hell was she doing in Lubbock for the season? Shouldn’t she be performing The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center all Christmas?

“How did you work it out to be here all month?”

“Oh, I have to be back in the city by Christmas Day to finalize rehearsals, and then I’ll dance the entire week between Christmas and New Year’s. Most other principals want that week off anyway.”

“I’m surprised they agreed to that.”

She turned away and waved at a friend approaching. “It was nothing.”

But the way she’d said it, the way she couldn’t look at me…it wasn’t nothing. It was unusual. The old Isaac would have dug his heels in until she told him what was going on. Except I didn’t know this Peyton. We weren’t the same people, and if she had secrets, well, that was her right.

“Peyton Medina!” a voice cried.

I didn’t recognize the brunette heading toward Peyton. She looked like she belonged on a runway rather than in Lubbock, Texas. Her hair had that shiny gloss and huge waves that I knew from growing up with a sister were only achievable from a salon. Her face was a mask of porcelain and ruby-red lips, and she wore a skintight dress on her thin frame and red-lacquered heels—and I was well aware of how expensive they were. It had been Abby’s dream to own a pair of Louboutins.

“Oh my God, Katherine?” Peyton said, dazed by her appearance. “What are you doing here?”

“Camden and I came down to see my brother. David married into the Wrights.”

Peyton blinked. “Wait, Sutton’s husband is your brother?”

“Small world, right?” Katherine said with a laugh.

They chatted back and forth rapidly as Katherine’s husband appeared beside her. He held his hand out, and I tried not to be intimidated as I shook, but this guy looked like a cross between a duke and a mob boss. His suit probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

“Camden Percy,” he said.

Percy. Shit. I knew that name. He owned the Percy Tower hotel chain. Jesus Christ. Were these the kind of people that Peyton hung out with back in New York?

“Isaac Donoghue,” I offered.

“Oh, sorry,” Peyton said breathlessly. “Isaac, this is my friend Katherine. We go to the same trainer in the city.”

Katherine looked me over once and then nodded at Peyton, as if giving her approval. “Rodrigo is the best, isn’t he?”

“Truly. No one compares,” Peyton agreed.

Camden stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked put out. “If I have to hear about him one more time…”

The girls burst into giggles. Apparently, this was a common joke.

“Well, we’ll be here for another week or two. Give me a call if you do anything fun,” Katherine told her. “I still have no idea what to do here. And we’ll be at opening night, of course.”

“I’ll text you,” Peyton agreed easily.

Katherine waved at her one more time before tugging her husband away from us. I just stood, dumbfounded. The couple days that Peyton had been home, I had thought that she was mostly the same girl that I’d known before. But…how could I even understand what living in New York had been like for her?

“Wow. That was…Camden Percy,” was all I managed to get out.

Peyton giggled, something short of hysterical. “I know. Isn’t it so weird? When Katherine first started coming for training with Rodrigo, I thought she was the world’s biggest bitch, but she’s grown so much in the last year. It’s kind of incredible that I’m even friends with someone like that.”