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‘So, tell me about yourself now that I’ve disclosed most of my life to you.’
‘Mine isn’t nearly as interesting. Up until recently it was pretty much ballet, ballet, ballet … Now I don’t know what it is.’ She forced herself to swallow the tears these words evoked.
‘Tell me more, I’m all ears.’
As stoically as she could, Eloise described her childhood of foster care and her thrill of being accepted at age twelve to study ballet at White Lodge, home of the Royal Ballet School: something that had changed her life. It was the first time she had verbalised her bitter disappointment about Manon, and once she’d started she couldn’t stop.
Caesar observed her as she disclosed the bare bones of her life story, knowing they were nothing more than scraps. He already had a file compiled on her life, so didn’t press for the details she avoided, and which he already knew. He merely took notice of what she left out and her mannerisms as she spoke, which fascinated him.
The poor child had nothing in her life other than ballet. There were times when she was fighting back her tears and he felt like holding her hand to help her through the pain, but he quickly checked himself. He was depending on her feeling completely abandoned and the plan he had developed hinged entirely on that premise.
‘Do you plan to return to the Royal Ballet, Eloise?
She shook her head solemnly, knowing that words might break her.
‘But you said yourself, you were given the role of Soloist. It’s not as if you were sacked.’
‘I will not return as Soloist.’ Eloise spoke quietly but firmly, and felt anger and disappointment cascading over her crushed heart all over again. She made an effort to rein in her tumultuous emotions; the last thing she wanted was for Caesar to see her like this, though she feared it was already too late.
‘So what are you going to do? You must have some idea. You’re too gifted to simply walk away. Perhaps you just need some more time to think things through.’
‘Dancing is all I have, Caesar. My pride won’t let me go back – not after the argument I had with Sir Lloyd. It was made very clear to me that the Russians are the next big thing to hit the ballet world and that being “home grown” is now seen as second-rate.’
‘I’m sorry you feel that way, but I understand what you’re saying. As you know, our new choreographer, the world-renowned Xavier Gemmel, is on a two-year contract and has the full support of the Board. I’m afraid he has scope to bring in more dancers from Russia, which doesn’t help your situation either.’
Caesar watched as Eloise shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, confirming the truth of his words. He often found that succinctly stating the reality of a situation, although difficult for people to hear at the time, had a profound impact on their decisions. It was a strategy he often used to his advantage.
‘Maybe I should apply to another company overseas … I’m not sure. I’m not skilled in anything else. And I can’t imagine a day without dance in my life.’
‘You could apply overseas, but you would need the Board’s approval to do so.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m assuming you’ve read your contract, Eloise …’
‘My contract with the Royal Ballet?’
‘It states clearly that you do not have the right to accept a position at another ballet company without the Board’s approval. From what I can ascertain from the other trustees, they’re looking forward to having you back – albeit as Soloist. In the meantime, I believe Lloyd has approved an extended leave of absence, and you should receive a letter shortly.’
‘If Xavier doesn’t believe I am good enough to be Principal, I can’t return under his leadership. I worked hard to be in that position, but to pretend I can return when Natalia has been promoted to my role is impossible. Xavier is well known in the industry for his nepotism and I’m sure it will only get worse during his tenure.’
‘Unfortunately I can’t disagree with you there. This issue was discussed at length before he was appointed. We all knew what we were getting into. So let me ask you this: if you aren’t returning to the Royal Ballet under the current conditions and you are unable to dance elsewhere, what exactly are you going to do, pray tell?’
Caesar couldn’t deny that right now he felt like the cat circling the canary whose cage door was open – she was such a delicate little bird – but he’d learnt from experience that it was far more effective to let people work through their feelings. At least then they believed they were making their own decision rather than being masterfully manipulated towards his end game, as was usually the case.
Eloise felt as desolate as she had the day she walked out of the ballet on hearing Caesar’s words. Her current situation was almost too much for her to bear.
‘I just want to dance,’ she replied at last. ‘I do think I need some distance from the Royal Ballet, but I have no idea how to go about it.’
That was the cue Caesar had been waiting for, and if truth be told, he’d had enough theatrics for one day. So he wasted no time in cutting to the chase.
‘Then I’m hoping that’s where I may be able to help. I would like to make you an offer and I’m hoping you’ll consider it very seriously. It is something I have put much thought into and I hope it is of equal advantage to both of us. It will guarantee your financial independence – but I won’t lie to you: nothing in this life comes without a price.’
He took a moment to open his Italian leather briefcase, removed a manila envelope with her name on it and slid it across the table towards her.
‘Essentially it means that you would contract yourself to me for the next two years.’
If Eloise had been desolate a moment ago, she was in shock now.
‘What?’ She stared at him wide-eyed. ‘Why me?’
‘Because you are financially vulnerable, and you are a magnificent dancer whose skills should be allowed to develop – even if away from structured ballet. You are a beautiful young woman whose life has barely begun – even though you think it is over. I am in a position to provide you with a lifestyle that surpasses what you had with the ballet and surrounds you with athletes who are the top of their field. But I need your personal commitment for two years. After that, Xavier’s term with the Royal Ballet will be complete, you will have just turned twenty-four, with more life experience than you’ve ever imagined and, well, let’s just say who knows what your future may hold?’
He looked directly into her enormous, dewy eyes, giving her time for his words to sink in.
‘I don’t know what to say …’ Eloise wondered whether she was trapped in a warped dream or perhaps it was a nightmare; she couldn’t decide which.
‘I completely understand this may come as a surprise, so let me explain my proposal, the specific details of which are inside that envelope.’
Eloise’s dessert – once again, pre-ordered by Caesar – arrived just as he was relating his discussion with Ivan Borisov. Eloise had vaguely heard of Ivan on the sports news, but was far more impressed that his mother was the famous ballerina Anna Alexandrava.
‘Ivan is Number One in the tennis world, and for the moment, it’s not in my interests to see him lose that coveted position. He believes that having you dance for him before every match would bring back his motivation and passion for the game. It may or it may not; only time will tell. I know that you are feeling dejected about losing your own role as Principal, but I’m hoping I can make you an offer too good to refuse. I’m calling it my “Number One Strategy”. Although I’d oversee the arrangement, to cover all expenses and ensure that the conditions of the contract were being met, you would become accountable to the top-ranked male tennis player. You would travel with him around the world and essentially he would become your new “Master” – to use a term familiar to you. It would be up to both of you to agree on the terms of your relationship.’ He paused. ‘Do you have any questions so far?’
‘My new Master?’ She couldn’t remotely fathom why this piqued her interest.
‘In my opinion, the most successful tennis players tend to be dominant and controlling – the game demands these characteristics of its champions. Just as you, to the best of my knowledge, are submissive by nature, which drives your perfection in ballet. Professional ballet dancers must adhere to the rules of the dance and depend on certain boundaries. By all reports, you perform at your best under the strict demands of your masters and mistresses.’
There was no doubting Caesar had certainly done his research thoroughly as he paused to watch all the colour drain from Eloise’s face, when just moments ago it had been flushed. He smiled as he continued, congratulating himself again on his choice. She was even more perfect for the role than she had appeared on paper, and so very easy to read – an open book in every sense.
‘It will be up to both of you to negotiate the parameters of your relationship. This will be an important discussion, as your respective lawyers would then draw up the terms of your agreement, which of course I would require you to uphold.’
‘And by parameters you mean what exactly?’
‘The rules that define and determine your relationship.’
‘So I would negotiate this with Ivan?’
‘You would negotiate this with whoever was Number One, as per the ATP’s – the Association of Tennis Professionals – rankings. Currently this is Ivan, and he is very keen for you to be his private ballerina.’
‘Oh, I see. So the contract would be with you for two years but my agreement would be negotiated separately with each Number One during that timeframe?’
‘Exactly.’ Caesar was pleased she seemed to be catching on.
‘And would my relationship with the Number One ever be more than dancing?’
She had to ask; it needed to be clarified.
‘That would be entirely up to you, but you should be prepared for the possibility. It is certainly not my aim to place you in a situation that isn’t consensual. That is why the agreement between you is such an important step in the process. Of course I can’t speak for each Number One; it would be for them to negotiate the boundaries with you. Only then would the specifics form part of the contract.’
‘And how do you know they would even agree to such a proposal?’
‘I manage the top six male players in the world. I know their lives inside out, more than their nearest and dearest ever will. If Ivan doesn’t maintain that position, one of the other five will be Number One. I have included a brief dossier on each of them for you to review before making your decision. I think you will be pleasantly surprised.’
He smiled, almost like the cat that had already swallowed the canary.
‘But how do you know that they would even want me in their lives?’
‘Believe me, Eloise, I know every one of these men would welcome you into their life in whatever shape the relationship takes. As you know better than anyone, being at the top is lonely and isolating. To have someone who doesn’t judge them and understands the pressure of their lives, the need to perform on cue over and over, would be invaluable. It became abundantly obvious to me after my discussion with Ivan. If these elite athletes don’t have a partner one hundred per cent dedicated to their career, it’s only a matter of time before the stress cracks show and their relationship fails, often affecting every part of their life. I see it time and again. Should you come into their lives, understanding what drives them to be Number One, as you know first-hand, supporting them to achieve, with no strings attached … do you think they’ll knock all that back? You’d be a dream come true!’
The entire situation was too much for Eloise to take in.
‘I know it’s a lot to absorb, and probably the last thing you were expecting from our meeting today. So I’d really appreciate it if you could read through the information when you go home, consider what I’ve offered and let me know within the next two days if you are remotely interested. I’d be more than comfortable if you feel you need to experience the lifestyle I’m proposing before committing to anything. If you decide to proceed, the contract between us will be legally binding for the next eight grand slams; there are four a year. You’d start with the French Open in May, then Wimbledon, followed by the US Open, and finally the Australian in January.
‘It’s a big decision, which I encourage you to consider seriously. And I need to be clear: should you proceed, your life for the next two years will not be your own.’ His eyes became lethal for a flicker of a second, right before his tone lightened. ‘If you have any more questions whatsoever, just call my direct line.’ He handed her his business card.
‘Unfortunately, my next meeting is across town and I need to get going. As I said earlier, Eloise, I hope you will consider my offer seriously over the next day or two. I’ve really enjoyed our time together today and hope we can continue getting to know each other in the near future.’
He stood up, so Eloise followed his lead, and he shook her hand again. Instead of having warm, sweaty palms, now all blood had drained from her fingers, leaving them stone-cold.
‘Please feel free to stay here longer if you wish to.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll look forward to hearing from you.’
As he reached the door, he stopped and turned back to face her. ‘Don’t look so scared, Eloise; life is meant to be an adventure. I hope I’ve just added to yours.’
‘Thank you, Caesar. For lunch, for the chat, for everything.’ As she said the words she realised her life now had options she hadn’t even imagined a few hours ago. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
‘Good. I’m counting on it!’
On that note, Caesar exited the room, leaving a befuddled Eloise standing in his wake.
Pub
Eloise found a pub just around the corner from the Tate Modern and made the spontaneous decision to pop in: something entirely out of character for her. She needed to calm her nerves and reflect on the puzzling meeting she had just left, and she wasn’t ready to go back and sit in her tiny apartment by herself just yet. Though she tried to seem like she belonged in this environment, she looked quite out of place sitting at the bar, and the pint she was hiding behind could not conceal her incongruous elegance and grace.
She told herself that everything in her life was still as miserable as it had been an hour ago, but knew deep down this just wasn’t the case. In fact, her life had just become far more intriguing than it had ever been – not that she would openly admit that to herself.
She sat in a daze a million miles away, not quite believing what had just happened to her. She was trying to assimilate the bizarre proposition sitting inside the manila envelope he had given her, when her reverie was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice next to her.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’
She looked up into the eyes of a young guy with a mass of brown, shoulder-length, curly hair, a caramel tan and an adorable smile that exposed perfect white teeth and a dimple on each cheek.
‘I’m sure you’d rather not know,’ Eloise responded flatly, unaccustomed to being spoken to by strange men in public, and preferring not to be disturbed.
‘Try me, I’m a good listener. May I?’
Eloise couldn’t disguise her shock as he slid his seat closer to hers and ordered a pint from the bar.
‘What …? Well … I suppose … why not?’
‘Thanks! I’m Liam by the way.’
He extended his hand, and rather than averting her eyes and not responding as would be her usual practice, she couldn’t help but smile. His casual friendliness was somewhat contagious. She looked into his honey-coloured eyes and was surprised to see nothing but kindness.
‘I’m Eloise. Are you usually like this?’
‘I suppose it depends on what you think I’m usually like.’
‘I suppose it does!’ She laughed, a sound she hadn’t heard escape from her mouth for quite some time. It was an unusual sensation. ‘I mean, do you usually just sidle up to people you don’t know and sit down for a chat?’ Eloise knew she had never acquired the social confidence for such outgoing behaviour.
‘Why not? Life’s short,’ he answered simply, before looking at her a little more thoughtfully, noticing her bright aquamarine eyes and long auburn locks, pulled neatly away from her face and secured in a long plait that rested on her shoulder.
‘I was just about to leave when you caught my eye. You look a little lost and very alone – and stunning!’ She immediately blushed at his directness. ‘If we can’t reach out to each other as human beings, then what’s the point in being alive?’
She was taken aback, both by his outspoken words and by the kind-heartedness they portrayed.
‘How do I know you’re not Jack the Ripper?’
‘To the best of my knowledge Jack the Ripper lived about a hundred years ago, although …’ He paused, pretending to consider … ‘I suppose I could be a distant relative.’ He took a sip of his beer, taking time to lick the foam from his upper lip. ‘But I don’t think I have his genes, because I’m one hundred per cent against violence – it goes against my Zen nature – and besides, there are many other things I would prefer to do with a woman, I can assure you, particularly one as beautiful as you.’ His cheeky, light-hearted grin returned, along with his dimples.
Eloise caught herself returning the smile. Something about him drew her in, causing goosebumps to appear on her skin, and she shifted in her seat to deflect his searching gaze. In the past, it had only ever been dance that had stirred such arousal in her, but her immediate attraction to him was undeniable. He was gorgeous!
Even though his intentions could be taken as sexual, she felt surprisingly comfortable in his presence and found herself easing into conversation with this flirtatious stranger. The freedom of anonymity was taking her mind off the massive decision she had to make within the next two days.
‘So, as I said before: penny for your thoughts?’
‘Oh, it’s just too complicated and surreal for me to even begin to explain – and anyway, I should really get going. I have a lot I need to work out.’
She stood up from the bar, not really wanting to leave but feeling like she could now face going home to start thinking through Caesar’s offer. She could hardly have explained the details of his proposal to a complete stranger, nor even to someone she knew well. So she carefully placed the envelope back in her attaché case.
‘You’re not finishing your beer?’
‘I don’t really drink beer – and I don’t usually go to pubs either. I just ordered it to fit in.’ She smiled sheepishly.
‘Right.’ He placed some money on the bar and stood up with her. ‘Are you walking across the Millennium Bridge?’
She nodded.
‘Mind if I join you?’
‘You’re persistent, aren’t you?’
‘When I like something I see, absolutely.’
The more Eloise looked at Liam, the cuter he became – like a delicious milky chocolate bar, without the fat content. She gathered up her jacket and attaché case and pondered: What harm could it do? She hadn’t felt anything like this for a long time, if ever.
‘All right, then, why not?’
They both reached for the door handle at the same time, their fingers colliding. He stood firm, holding the door until she’d gone out before him. She noticed he was over six feet tall, and more athletic and muscled than she’d realised when they’d been seated.
