Chapter One:

Of Dinner Parties And Ballet

I pushed the heavy brass bars open to the main door and stepped out onto the sun-drenched steps of the Los Angeles Ballet Academy. I had been attending this same school since I was six-years-old and I was going to be graduating in less than two months. After my exam, I was hoping to continue at the Academy as a principal dancer and work my way up to ballet mistress.

My best friends, Kendall Sullivan and Amelia Lambert, hurried out after me. "Claire, jeez, we just had a two-hour class! Chill out, will you?", Lia complained as she pushed her sweaty bangs out of her green eyes.

"Sorry, guys," I said. "I gotta get home. Dad wants us all to be there for a big dinner with one of his artists that's going on his first big tour, or something."

"Oooh," Kendall grinned. "You don't know who it is, do you?"

"Ummm," I frowned and reached for my purple Blackberry in the front of my brightly patterned messenger bag. I scrolled through the most recent messages from my father until I reached the one about the dinner we were discussing. "Dammit. That Justin kid from Canada."

Lia snickered. "Come on, Claire. You're his biggest fan, and you know it." I stuck my tongue out at her as we waited on the corner of Vine and Melrose for my dad's driver to pick us up.

When my friends and I were dropped off in font of the gate to my parents house in Beverly Hills, I waved goodbye to Lia and Kendall. "Text us whenever you can, okay?" Kendall said, looking to see if she could make a quick dash across the street to her house without getting run over.

"Sure. I'll let you know if he's as obnoxious as all the other ones."

Lia rolled her eyes at me, hefted her tote bag up on her shoulder and disappeared around the tall hedges to her house next door.

Half an hour later, I stood in my room in front of my full-length mirror looking over the outfit I'd chosen for that evening. I was wearing a blue Marc Jacobs dress with a low ruffled collar and a silk bow tied around my middle. I had chosen a pair of black Prada pumps that would at least make me 5'3" tall. I had pulled the front part of my dark brown hair into a silver clip with blue diamonds and the rest of my hair fell in curls midway down my back. It was always a relief to let my hair out of a tight bun after a day of dancing.

I heard a knock at my door. "Come in!" I said, smoothing out the front of the dress. I grabbed my favourite perfume off my vanity that always made me think of the Bahamas and sprayed a little on my wrists. The door opened. It was my 14-year-old sister, Lucy.

"Hey, you look great, Luce!" I said. My sister was wearing a baby-pink strapless dress that had foaming crinoline and lace underneath the skirt. Her strawberry blonde hair was dead-straight as always and pulled back at the nape of her neck with a white ribbon. She was also wearing white ballet flats.

"Did you steal one of my old ballet outfits?" I teased. Lucy stuck her tongue out at me.

"Ha ha, very funny. I just wanted to look nice tonight because...." Lucy trailed off, looking a little embarrassed.

I grinned. "You like Justin, don't you?"

Lucy looked horrified. "Shut up, I do not!"

I decided to leave the subject alone. "Alright, don't have a fit. Is Asher ready?" Asher was my twin brother.

"He convinced Dad and Mom he's too old to have to keep going to these dinners, so he went out with Jordan and Zack."

I sighed, annoyed. "Well, that's totally fair. Okay, let's get this over with." Lucy and I hooked arms and walked downstairs to foyer where Dad had asked us to meet him.

My dad and mom were sitting side-by-side on a velvet-cushioned bench in the foyer as Lucy and I joined them.

"He should be here any minute." Mom said, brushing her hair that looked so much like mine off of her shoulder. She looked amazing in a black cocktail dress and heels.

"Is anyone else coming with him?" I asked.

"There usually is when an artist I work with is under eighteen. Probably a lawyer."

At exactly 6 o'clock, the doorbell rang. Dad got up, smoothing the front of his navy-blue tie, and giving me a quick wink. "Remember what I asked you earlier, Claire?"

I sighed. "Yes, Dad." He nodded and opened the door. Justin Bieber was there standing next to a man who looked like an accountant if I'd ever seen one. Brown suit, bald head, glasses, and heavy-looking briefcase. I heard Lucy behind me take a sharp intake of breath. Who was she kidding, I thought. She totally had a crush on Justin.

"Hi, Mr. Nolan," he said, shaking Dad's hand.

I was impressed. He at least had good manners. That's more than I could say for some of Dad's other artists.

"Please, Justin, I already told you could call me Elliott."

He laughed. "Sorry. I think my Mom would kill me if I did that."

Dad turned to his lawyer. "I'm Elliott Nolan. This is my wife, Vivienne, and my daughters, Claire and Lucy."

"I'm Justin's lawyer, Stephen McKenzie." Mr. McKenzie shook Dad's and Mom's hands firmly and he and Justin entered into the foyer.

"I'm Claire," I said, shaking Justin's hand. It was surprisingly soft and strangely enough when he dropped my not-very-smooth hand, I almost missed the feeling. I blinked a few times, trying to clear my head. What on Earth was I thinking about?? He was just another one of Dad's obnoxious teen protégée's that would hover on the corner of my life for awhile, then fade away into obscurity.

Justin smiled at the same time as I'd had that thought, almost as if he'd read my mind. I blushed candy-apple red, groaning inwardly. The only other time I'd gotten flustered around on of my parents's famous friends was when Mom had brought over Robert Pattinson who was in an indie movie with her. I'd gotten starry-eyes then for over a month. Amelia still brought it up when she really wanted to annoy me.

"Um, yeah, so Dad wanted me to give you a tour of the house." I said quickly, leading him out of the living room by the elbow of his very Michael Jackson-inspired jacket. The first stop was down the hall outside the living room, past the kitchen and outside onto the back patio with the Olympic-sized swimming pool. The marbled-edges of the pool hovered towards the very edge of the property giving way to amazing views of the city from the Hills. My favourite thing about the backyard was the white and blue twinkle lights that were strung from the trees and rose bushes.

Justin stood quietly by my side, looking out at the view. He nodded in approval. "I bet you have some great parties out here, huh?"

"Yeah. I had my Sweet Sixteen out here. With the DJ, it was pretty awesome," I said, relaxing slightly. "OK, let's continue."

Twenty minutes later, I'd shown him the entire house. We'd ended up in my ballet studio that was next to the bar room and parlour in the basement.

"So, you're a dancer?" Justin asked, taking in my favourite room in the house. The walls were painted lavender with midnight-blue trim flecked with silver. Twenty-foot tall gleaming mirrors stood solidly next to each other by the farthest wall. The dark cherry wood barre was securely fastened in place and matched the same grooved paneling of the floor.

"Um, yeah. I'm actually graduating from the Los Angeles Ballet Academy in two months. I've been practising for my exam like crazy."

Justin looked at me curiously as he leaned against the barre. "Practising? So you actually perform a ballet to graduate?

I nodded. "Just a selected piece. I'm doing the Rose Adagio scene from Sleeping Beauty. It's the hardest dance I've done in my life."

I felt myself blushing again. Why had I just said that to a complete stranger?? Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind.

Justin shuffled in place for a moment and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. "Can you show me some of it? I mean, you don't have to if..."

I grinned. "Sure. My music's still set up anyway." I nodded over to my iPod stereo, and kicked off my pumps. I glided as gracefully as I could to start the music, stretching out my legs and arms as I did so. I pressed play and the sweet sounds of Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty filled the air and, as always, I instantly forgot anyone else was in the room. I spun around dreamily, humming along to the Garland Waltz until the piece ended softly and I opened my eyes.

Justin was looking directly into my eyes. "Wow," he breathed. "I don't know much about ballet, but..." He grinned sheepishly. "That was amazing."

For the third time that night, I blushed. "Ummm, thanks." I felt completely vulnerable and self-conscious now. I hurried over to were I tossed off my shoes and slid them back on, my feet slightly slick with sweat. "I, uh, think we should go back upstairs. My dad wanted to go over some stuff with you before we eat."

He was still looking at me funny, but he nodded, sweeping his hand in the direction of the door. "Sure, Claire. Lead the way."

As we walked back up the carpeted stairs to the living room, I couldn't be sure, but I think my stomach totally flipped over when he had said my name.