Read Online In Harmony by Helena Newbury - Free Book Online Page B

for no reason whatsoever. He smiled and waved to the crowd, back to being the performer again—if he’d ever stopped. More likely, that momentary connection had been my imagination.
    I looked up just in time to see him disappear through a doorway behind the stage. A bored-looking guy was sitting in a plastic chair, half-blocking the doorway and watching warily for interlopers. I hurried back to the bar.
    “I have to get backstage,” I told Natasha.
    “Like a groupie?” asked Jasmine. “I can see why. He’s even better when he sings.”
    “I don’t like him. I just need to get backstage,” I told her.
    “Like a groupie.”
    “ Not like a groupie.” I sighed. “Okay, okay, how do groupies get backstage?”
    Jasmine grinned. “Well, traditionally they—”
    Clarissa slapped a hand over her mouth. “This is Karen.”
    “What?” I asked, bemused.
    Natasha took me by the hand and pulled me away from the others. “Come on. We’ll figure something out.” We started wending our way through the crowd towards the stage and then around it to the door.
    She headed straight for the doorway, as if she hadn’t even noticed the guy in the chair. For a moment, I thought we were going to make it. Then the guy put his arm across to stop her. “Performers only,” he told her.
    Natasha looked down at him as if he was mad. “I am a performer,” she told him. “We’re the dancers.”
    The man shook his head. “It’s all bands tonight. No dancers.”
    Natasha smiled down at him. “We’re on at the end. It’s a last minute thing.” And then, without any apparent effort, she lifted one elegant leg and planted her foot on the wall behind his head, as if she was standing at the barre. Her skirt fell away from her thighs, as if by accident, and I saw the guy’s eyes flick to the bare flesh before he could stop himself. “We just need to get limbered up,” she told him. “Don’t we?”
    I realized that was meant for me. “Yes,” I managed. “We have to stretch.” And I did my loose interpretation of a calf stretch, almost falling over in the process.
    The guy in the chair had probably been guarding the door, or ones like it, for a decade. He knew all the tricks and had heard all the lies.
    But at that moment, a ballerina’s thigh was six inches from his cheek.
    “Okay,” he told us, nodding. “The room at the end’s free.” And he dropped his arm to let us past.
    “How did you do that?” I asked in awe when we were out of earshot.
    Natasha looked at me pityingly. “We really do need to get you out more, don’t we?” She hugged me, then pointed me down the corridor. “Good luck. I’ll see you back in the bar.” And before I could stop her, she was gone.
    Part of me wished she’d stayed. But maybe it was better I meet Connor alone—it was going to be agonizing enough without an audience.
    There were only three rooms off the corridor. One was a restroom. One was dark and empty. The last door was firmly closed. I raised my hand to knock, and then stopped.
    What on earth was I going to say?
    “I think we can help each other,” I said out loud, trying it out. Except…could I really help him? He was going to be doing me a big favor, but what could I offer in return?
    Maybe I could appeal to his ego. “I thought you were amazing out there,” I tried. And then wanted to stab myself, because it sounded so fake. The annoying thing was, he really had been good. I just didn’t know how to say it.
    “Remember how you caught me, when I fell?” I tried. “Well, I kind of need you to—”
    “I like the second one,” said Connor.
    I whipped around. He’d been standing behind me, having come in the same way I had.
    “But you’re—” I pointed at the closed door.
    “I went out there to look for you.” He had that look again, curious and amused. “So…what do you need my help with?"
     
    ***
     
    He took me into the dressing room, which was fine. Then he closed the door, which wasn’t fine at