He didn't call for two weeks.
They had been rehearsing 10 hours a day for the opening of the season in mid-November, Tchaikovsky's Romeo & Juliet.
She was toweling off, seated near the barre watching some of the younger corps dancers on a Thursday afternoon, when she heard his voice above her.
"Hello, Sydney."
She started, not expecting to turn and see someone so close to her. He was clad in a black suit, pale yellow dress shirt and dark blue tie. Banker's clothes. The suit looked expensive, or rather… he looked expensive in it.
"Julian," she nodded at him, not wanting to give the corps de ballet any fodder for gossip. Make that any more fodder for gossip.
"My apologies for not calling you like I said I would," his voice was low, "But business has taken me abroad for the last several weeks."
She shrugged, "We've been busy."
"So it would appear," he studied the flock of dancers in the center of the room. "When is the opening?"
"In a week, the 17th," she said.
"Perhaps I can make it if I'm not away on business," he said, looking down at her again.
"Do you travel a lot for work?" she asked, against her better judgment.
"A fair balance of the time, yes," he said, nonchalant. "Our bank has a largely international clientele, most of whom would prefer that we come to them, rather than the other way around. "
"How nice for you," she said, her eyes never moving from the corps.
He shrugged, "It pays the bills."
"Did you just drop by to chat?" she looked up at him at last. It was then that she noticed the bruise on his cheekbone, under his right eye.
"No," he admitted, "I came by to say hello to Sloane, who suggested I come round his place for dinner sometime soon."
"Oh."
"Would you like to come with," he suggested, and she knew it had been prearranged.
"When—I mean, we're really busy?"
"Are you free Thursday?"
"I guess," she said, "If Sloane has time then."
"Hopefully I won't have an unexpected out-of-town client meeting, but he told me Thursday was best for him and Emily," he replied. "Shall I ring you?"
"Sure."