Page 30 of Until We Come Home

If I can get one eleven-year-old to walk out of this room feeling good about what her body can do instead of what it looks like, I’ve done my job.

“And aren’t you excited for the benefit piece?” Jada asks. “It’s been ages since we’ve performed together, and getting to do it in front of a room full of attractive firefighters is just an added bonus.”

I laugh. "Right? It feels like forever since our ballet days, though I definitely won't complain about the view."

"We'll bring in two more dancers once we map out the foundation of the routine," she says. "Probably Devon and Ines, they'd be ideal for this. We can have the studio to ourselves most evenings after eight whenever you want to start working on the choreography. Some early mornings too."

"I want to start working on it tonight," I say, making her laugh. Turning back toward the doorway, I add, “It's perfect. I mean it."

"Good, because everyone here is thrilled you're joining us," she says. "You're the main topic of conversation in the building. Given all the major tours and high-profile music videos on your resume, you're basically a celebrity to these kids."

I giggle. "Well, I expect red carpet treatment, fresh flowers, maybe a bronze plaque."

“Got it,” she says, pushing off the wall. “I’ll put in the request.”

We continue on the tour, up to the fourth-floor studios with their skylights, down to the costume shop in the basement, past the company dressing rooms with everyone’s names on masking tape over the mirrors.

CHAPTER 6

Mateo

I'm down in the bay at Station 7, running through maintenance checks on the rig while a steady summer downpour hammers against the open bay doors and drumrolls across the roof.

It’s still warm out, and the humid air drifts off the asphalt. I'm grateful for the rain, even if it's short-lived. If only we could get a solid week of this weather over on the east side of the Cascades, maybe the fire danger out there would finally stop climbing.

"Hey, you," Mia calls out, and I turn around.

She wanders in out of the rain, carrying two large white plastic takeout bags from the teriyaki joint, the handles tied tight against the rain. She’s wearing an oversized rain shell that leaves only her face exposed, and I’m laughing before she’s halfway across the bay.

"Hey," I say, straightening up from the engine and wiping my hands on a shop rag. "You look like you barely survived the walk over."

She huffs. "I know. It's absolute monsoon conditions out there, and my shoes are soaked through."

I glance down at the takeout bags in her arms. "Brought food? Trying to bribe your way into the bay?"

"How dare you accuse me of having ulterior motives," she says, mock-offended. "I came to review the benefit schedule, and if a bag of extra-saucy teriyaki happens to buy five minutes of your undivided attention, that's just a bonus."

I laugh, taking the wet plastic bags, and nod her over to the bench along the wall by the bay doors. She peels the rain shell off over her head and shakes out her hair while I unpack the bags. The styrofoam clamshells are still hot, the rice steaming when I crack the first one open, plus a stack of napkins and a few little tubs of extra sauce. The smell of grilled meat fills the bay, and I hand her a pair of chopsticks.

"You brought enough food for an army," I say, passing over a container.

She takes it, digging in immediately. "It's for the whole crew too. What kind of monster do you take me for?"

“Careful,” I say. "James and Callum are only going to fall harder for you if you keep feeding them."

"Good. I like having men wrapped around my finger." She giggles around a bite of chicken. "It makes bossing them around so much easier. Also, thank you for the breakfast send-over this morning. Figured I’d return the favor.”

“Well, I wanted to make sure you were fueled up for day one,” I say, settling back against the wall with my own food. “Big morning. Couldn’t have you walking in there on an empty stomach.”

“It was very much appreciated,” she says, and bumps her knee against mine. “The whole front desk was jealous. I had to share.”

“That was the plan. Make friends early.” I take a bite, and the chicken’s charred at the edges and drowning in sticky teriyaki sauce, exactly how it should be. “So don’t leave me in suspense. How’d the first day go?”

“Amazing, Mateo.” She can’t get the words out fast enough. “The kids are so sweet and cute. Intense, all serious little dancers, like how I was, living and breathing it. The class is kind of a combo? Like, I’m doing the overall technique teaching, and then the other part of it we work on the piece they’re all doing at the benefit. Very full morning. Very loud. I loved it.”

I smile, picturing Mia at the front of a studio. "Those kids are lucky to have you. I can't think of anyone better at it than you."

“I hope so. I’ve taught masterclasses before, but Meridian’s reputation is intimidating, and these students are so serious about their training. I just really don’t want to blow this.”