Page 119 of Top Shelf

“Mhm.” Mila nods, her gaze on the reformer area. “The kind where everyone is pleased with my progress, and I want to throw a shoe at them because progress isn’t the destination.”

There it is. The studio concept, “the gap”, spoken back to me by someone standing in the middle of it. Mila looks over at me, and all I can do is silently acknowledge her sadness and fear and questions she’s too scared to ask in the gap floating between us.

Then she shrugs a shoulder. “I’d use this place.”

“Good. I’d want you to.”

By the time she leaves, with a promise to send references and availability, I already know I want her. My brain is still busy, but the pressure has changed. There’s a possibility of a real staff member. Someone with sharp eyes and a dancer’s understanding of what it means to ask a body for more after it’s already scared you once.

I’m vibrating with excitement and nerves from the almost-overwhelm. There’s been too much thinking. Too much planning. Too much holding myself together while every part of my life expands at once.

When I get back to my office, my phone buzzes as I sit down i to jot down some notes.

Viktor: How is your day?

Me: I’m vibrating out of my skin.

Viktor: Bad vibrating?

Me: Mostly business panic vibrating, but there are other categories.

Viktor: Explain.

Me: Before we were married, there was a club I’d go to. To relieve my tension

Viktor: What kind of club?

Me: A private club in Denver. High-end. Masks if you want them, and lots of rules. Some people watch, and no one touches unless you invite them to.

Viktor: You liked being watched

I bite my lip, ready to tap out a reply as my pulse behaves like an idiot, when Carina’s voice wafts in from my doorway.

“That face is either for taxes or sex.”

I huff a laugh. “Bold of you to assume those aren’t linked in my marriage.”

With a grin, I look back down at my phone as it lights up again.

Viktor: And touched?

Me: Only by whoever I chose.

Viktor: Did you like them knowing they could look but not have?

Me: Yes.

There’s a pause, and I watch the little balls bounce around, waiting for his reply.

Viktor: Come home.

The room goes hot, and I sit back slowly with the phone gripped in my hand, and Carina still blabbing vaguely to me in the distance.

Me: Are you mad?

Viktor: No.

Me: Jealous?