Page 37 of Sway

She gets in my space. “Honey, the only reason you’re a champion is because I retired so you and my brother could win the title. And I did that for Jared, not you. You’re lucky that you conned my father into marrying you. Without him, you’re nothing. Who were you before you married daddy? Another nameless Ukrainian dancer only placing in the semi-final in amateur Latin with Stas.”

“Nameless?!”

“Until he dumped you. Stas used to tell me what a pathetic dancer you were and that you would never be successful. He was just using you until he could make a fortune by dancing with Diana.”

“He was not! He loved me, you fucking liar.” I know Stas loved me. He just didn’t have the will power to turn down that kind of money. “I hate you, Nikita! I’ve tried to be your friend and you’ve always been so fake to me.”

Her eyes bug out. “I’m fake? Why do you think, Vika? You’re ten years younger than me, married to my father, and dancing with my brother. How do you think that makes me feel?”

Nicole gets blurry as tears fill my eyes. “Venya married me. He loves me. No one has ever loved me like he does. He’s done more for me than anyone has. And why not? Men help their wives. Plus, we both know how mean he can be. It’s not fair for you to be mad at me.”

She fumes, but she doesn’t respond. How can she?

“Nikita, you have everything: world title, loving husband who was your partner, and beautiful daughter. I work hard to be where I am. I didn’t grow up with both of my parents giving me free lessons and importing me partners. My father died when I was a baby and my mama sent me here with my baba so I could have a better life. She wanted to come with me but her husband couldn’t get visa. I was only twelve!” Nikita has no idea how easy she’s had it. “It was so hard to learn English and I missed my mama so much. My baba cleaned houses seven days out of a week so I could dance. And now I have to take care of her. I sacrificed everything to be where I am.”

She looks long and hard at me. A crash on the other side of the light makes us both jump. It also cuts the tension, I guess, because Nicole sighs and rubs her face with her hand. “Alright, Vika, I know my daddy loves you. And he can be cruel, I’ll give you that. But you just can’t denigrate our name. Please cancel this shoot.”

I shake my head. “No. I’ve always wanted to be in Playbunny. To me, it’s like dream come true. And it’s classy. Venya said I could do it.” I pause. Maybe she’s just mad that they didn’t ask her to be in it. “Nikita, do you want to join me? It could be like Brooks’ family spread—mother and daughter? Don’t worry about your body. They airbrush photos.”

She stares at me. There, I’ve got her. I should’ve known. What girl can resist Playbunny?

“Vika Brooks,” she says, “you’re even more delusional and self-absorbed than I thought you were. You’re as useless as an ashtray on a motorcycle.” She spins on her heel and storms out of the studio.

Suddenly, I remember the production crew. They’ve huddled in a corner, dead silent, having watched the whole thing. My eyes settle on the photographer. He smiles and raises his camera. “So, break over?”

Thank God! “Absolutely,” I say. Ripping off my robe, I walk over and relax on the chair under the lights, the bright glaring lights—the lights that I have been waiting my whole life to illuminate me.

Waltz

“May I have this dance?” He led her to the floor, careful not to step on her flowing gown. He took her in his arms and they glided through the ballroom. Though she was hesitant at first, she relaxed into his strong hold. Flitting, effortless, as if she were floating on clouds. Dancing around the room, she couldn’t help but smile. This was how she danced in her dreams.