"Meg! Don't
look now... but Jean-Paul is looking at you!"
"What?" Meg looked at Jammes in confusion. "Who's Jean-Paul?"
"Silly!
Haven't you been paying attention this week? Jean-Paul is a new dancer... and he is sooooooooooo
handsome! And he's looking at you!!!" Jammes whispered excitedly.
"He
is? Why?" Meg asked innocently.
"Obviously,
he thinks you're pretty." Jammes
rolled her eyes for dramatic effect.
"I think he's going to ask you to go to supper with him."
"Well,
I know my answer to that question... a sure and certain no." Meg sighed, untying her ballet slippers and
stuffing them in her bag.
"Are
you insane?!?!" Jammes shook her by the shoulders. "He is the most handsome man I've ever
laid eyes on!"
You've
never laid eyes on Erik, that's why.
"Jammes... I have Erik,
remember?" Meg supplied.
"Oh...
yeah... well, this is your chance to play hard to get!" Jammes insisted. "Go to supper with Jean-Paul, nothing serious... and see
what this mysterious Erik's reaction is.
I bet he'll become bold and 'declare eternal undying love' for you just
so you don't run off with Jean-Paul."
"Jammes,
you're getting carried away... we don't even know if Jean-Paul's going to ask
me to supper yet." Meg said.
"Excuse
me, ladies?"
Jammes
and Meg both turned to see the drop-dead gorgeous new dancer approaching
them. Dear Lord in Heaven, Meg thought,
Jammes was right... he is definitely one of the most handsome men in the
history of the known universe.
"Yes?"
Jammes was the first to regain her senses.
"Permit
me to introduce myself... I'm Jean-Paul Delacroix, a new dancer. I was wondering if the three of us might
have supper together. I know of a
charming bistro over-looking the Seine; perhaps we could get acquainted,
hmmm?" he smiled, displaying a set of perfect, white teeth.
"Ummm...
well, I-" Meg started, then Jammes elbowed her hard in the ribs. "We'd love to, Jean-Paul. Uh... I'm Meg Giry... this is Cecile
Jammes."
"Enchanted,
my lovelies... simply enchanted. I
shall wait for you both in the foyer following rehearsal, agreed?"
Jean-Paul asked.
"Agreed."
Jammes chimed in before Meg could say anything to the contrary.
@>-----'-----,----------------
Erik
seated himself gracefully inside of Box Five, secure in the knowledge that no
one could see him from the stage with the house lights off. Rehearsals for Faust were in progress and he
wanted to see if any of these new singers were worth listening to. Besides, he always enjoyed watching Meg
dance... especially since he'd taken her on as his protégé. He had arrived just in time; Meg took center
stage as soon as he sat down; act five, the adagio for the prima ballerina and
the premier male dancer. La Sorelli,
the usual prima ballerina was on a month-long holiday and Meg had easily taken
her place without any persuasion to the management from Erik.
Erik
watched avidly, a rare smile of genuine enjoyment stretching his sensual
mouth. She was so breath taking,
dancing in the spotlight... glowing with a energy that had nothing to do with
the make-up she wore and everything to do with her vibrant beauty. Was it his imagination or did she look up at
him in Box Five and smile discreetly? Imagination,
no doubt.
Meg, saw the tell-tale patch of
white up in Box Five that meant that Erik was watching, shrouded in the
familiar cloak and mask. Involuntarily,
she smiled briefly, taking delight in the fact that he had come all the way up
from his sanctuary to watch her perform.
Then, utilizing the professional demeanor that Erik had taught her, she
concentrated fully on her dancing, thinking only to make him proud of her. And yet, Jammes' idea shoved its way to
Meg's immediate thoughts.
Hell,
why not? she asked herself. I
might like playing the vixen.
As Jean-Paul effortlessly lifted her
up in a pas de deux, Meg used her newfound seduction skills to slide her
body against his suggestively.
Jean-Paul stiffened slightly, a movement only noticeable to Meg, with
her close proximity. Strangely, the
knowledge that she was arousing Jean-Paul held no excitement for her. No aching heat or pliancy spread through her
limbs, as they had when she'd purposely tempted Erik.
Yet,
Jammes' words ran through her head again.
"If I were you, I'd turn my attentions else-where... to someone a
bit more bold. Not seriously, of
course, since you seem to really love this Erik, but enough to make him a
little jealous and consequently more bold himself." But, would it work? Or would it back-fire? Would jealousy affect Erik as Jammes said it
would, or would he lose all hope?
She
was tired of waiting and doing nothing... she would just have to take the
chance.
Erik's
eyes narrowed on the new male dancer; he was holding Meg too close... far too
close for his peace of mind. But
obviously not in Meg's, he noted as he witnessed her lithe curves pressing
none-too-innocently against this new rival.
Meg,
what are you doing? Don't you know who
that is? Erik silently
demanded. He knew all about this
Jean-Paul Delacroix; he'd been suspended from the National Ballet Company of
Rome for blackmail, extortion, and rape.
A list of crimes not all that dissimilar from Erik's, but Erik would
never rape a helpless woman... an apparent favorite past-time of
Delacroix. Meg would have to watch
herself carefully... if not, well that was what he was he was around for... wasn't
it?
@>-----,------'---------------------
Meg
sighed as she toweled off in her dressing room; who knew that playing
hard-to-get could be so guilt-causing?
Too late, she thought of how much pain it would've caused poor Erik if
he had seen her with Jean-Paul during rehearsal... and God strike her dead if
he found out about her dinner plans!
Giry,
how on earth do you get yourself into these situations? You should be down with Erik confessing your
feelings for him, not eating dinner with that dancing dandy! Besides, there was something not quite right
about him... he was too... perfect, too confident. Something is definitely fishy with him.
A knock at the door disturbed Meg's
thoughts and Jammes rushed in without waiting for Meg to answer.
"Aren't
you ready yet?" she demanded, dismayed to find Meg still in her practice
costume. "Jean-Paul is waiting
downstairs for us and your sitting there staring at the mirror!"
"I'm
sorry, Jammes... I just don't feel comfortable with this." Meg sighed,
slipping out of her costume and finally dressing for the meal.
"You're
wearing that?" Jammes pointed to Meg's high-collared blouse in disbelief.
"Yes,
what's wrong with it?" Meg asked defensively, buttoning the
afore-mentioned article with more vigor than necessary.
It's
so... prim." Jammes said in a disgusted tone of voice. "You know what, you're about my size...
let's go to my dressing room and I'll lend you something else to wear
tonight."
Before
Meg could voice a suitable protest, she was standing before Jammes' dressing
mirror wearing a blouse that was so revealing it hardly deserved the name. Meg had to admit that it was pretty; a pale
green thing of silk with an off-the-shoulder neckline that dipped so low that
any audience would have little trouble imagining the shape of her flesh beneath
it.
"Jammes...
you have got to be joking!" she exclaimed. "I can't wear this!
It's positively indecent!"
"So?"
was Jammes cheerful reply. "Oh,
come on, Meg... men like this sort of stuff.
Perhaps this Erik of yours should see you in it; I bet that'd get him
going!"
Don't
even go there, Meg thought wryly.