She led us to a small and cluttered office, pushing aside a prop of a horse’s head to make room for Laney’s wheelchair.
“So, we unexpectedly have a slot for the last two weeks of March. Since it’s such short notice, we’ll cut our commission to 40% of the box office takings, and provide all the front of house services, as well as our sound and lighting team. You’ll be responsible for bringing the production to the stage: and that includes all the relevant permissions for music and insurances. We’ll take care of ticket sales and marketing, but we’ll need you to keep up some media presence. So, what do you say?”
I was nodding throughout her whole speech, amazed that finally things were going our way, but Laney rested her hand on my arm.
“It all sounds wonderful, Selma. If you could forward the contracts to me, I’ll have our legal team go over it.”
I grinned at her. We had a legal team now?
Thirty minutes later, we were out of the door with draft contracts in our pockets.
Laney
“I need a name for the company,” he frowned.
“You could call it Novak,” I suggested. “You told me your surname translates as ‘new man’—it seems apt.”
Ash shook his head. “It means something more like ‘rookie’. Anyway, I need something that explains us.”
I wasn’t sure who he meant by ‘us’: the dancers, the story, or him and me, but I had an idea.
“How about Syzygy: a union of opposites, a mystical alignment?”
His face lit with a huge smile.
“Perfect, my clever wife,” he said, kissing me soundly.
Later, I wondered if that’s what love is—the never-ending conversation with a man who interests and excites you your whole life.
The next day, I sat down with a pad of paper and a calculator. After half an hour, I felt like crying. Whichever way I worked it, however much I tried to cut corners, the figures were stark.
We were $80,000 short.
But . . . if we sold half of the available seats for every single night, we’d break even. Anything above that, and we’d be in profit.
It was a risk.
But then again, life is a risk.
Isn’t it.
I picked up the phone and called my bank.
“Hello, I’m calling to enquire about a loan, please.”
Ash was furious when he found out what I’d done. He went on one of his famous, drama-filled rampages.
“We’ve overcome the biggest hurdle, finding a venue,” I stated calmly. “And I know you can pull off the dance stuff, so what’s the problem?”
His eyes flashed with fury.
“The problem!” he yelled. “I have eighty thousand problems. Holy fucking shit, Laney! Eighty thousand dollars!”
He prowled toward me, pushing his face into mine as he clamped his hands over the wheelchair’s armrests.
“No! I won’t allow it!”
“Too late. It’s done.”
“Send the money back! Say you changed your mind.”
“I’m already paying interest on the loan, so I’m really not keen on that option. You’ll just have to choreograph an amazing show and pay me back later. Do your dance thing.”
“My dance thing? My dance thing! It’s hours of fucking work, Laney! The music, the choreography, costumes. Shit, I don’t know!”
“By the way, I spoke to Selma and sent the signed contracts back. She’s also willing to hold open auditions at the theater on Saturday at no charge. I’ve placed an ad in several newspapers as well as online, and I’ve called half a dozen dance studios in the city to let them know. You should get a good selection of talent from that.”
His mouth dropped open, his eyes wide with surprise.
And then he kissed me. He held my face between his hands and ravaged my mouth with such passion and intensity that I was breathless.
Later, as we lay in bed, warm and satiated, Ash absently stroking my thigh, he brought up the subject again.
“We are husband and wife, yes? A team?”
“Of course,” I said, snuggling into his chest.
“But you made this big decision by yourself.”
“Oh. Well, you’d have said no.”
“Yes, I would.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you. We can totally do this. You can totally do this.”
He pulled away slightly so he could see my face.
“Laylay, how mad would you have been if I made such a big decision and you had no say in it?”
“Pretty mad,” I acknowledged. “But you would have said no for the wrong reasons. You think you’d be protecting me, but really you’d be taking away my chance to see you happy, to see you succeed—our future.”
He rubbed his forehead tiredly. “You’re too clever with words for me.”
I snuggled closer and kissed his chest again. “You’re clever with words, but it’s more fun when you’re clever with your body.”
I felt silent laughter shaking his chest.
“I do understand. You’re right to be mad at me, but please trust me, Ash. This is the right thing to do.”
“I trust you with my life,” he said softly.