Luc glanced at Bailey. She glanced away, her fixed smile on Stella like she didn’t want to look at him. Why didn’t she? Why hadn’t she answered this question? Hadn’t they discussed this already? “Yes, we are.”
He reached across and grasped Bailey’s hand and squeezed it, doing his best to reassure. Something had happened, and he needed to know. Now. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, especially as I was late today, but I’m really slammed with stuff at the moment. Is there anything else you need us for, or can we take a few pics and be done?”
“Oh! Well, I suppose I can call you if there’s anything else I need you to clarify. But yes, a few pictures would be nice. Perhaps the two of you striking a pose?”
“Sure.” Anything to get this done so he could talk to Bailey. He turned to her. Tipped her chin up. “Bails? What do you suggest?”
“Whatever you like,” she murmured.
What he’d like was a kiss or hug, but he settled for a pose that showed the drama of their waltz, where he held her in one of those dramatic lifts that had scored so well with the judges. Stella wanted another, which they obliged, then a third, which he did not, as he was fast getting the impression this reporter was out for whatever she could get, and the longer they did this the more apparent it was that Bailey needed her to leave.
“Well, thanks, Stella. It was nice to meet you. You’ll let us know if there’s anything else you need, right?”
“Thanks. I’ll call you. I have your numbers.”
Bailey coughed. “I have a new phone, so maybe call him instead.”
So that’s why she hadn’t responded to his calls. Okay. “Thanks again, Stella.” He studied her, his arm around Bailey as he waited for his unsubtle request to sink in.
“Good luck you two,” Stella replied, gathering her things, then exiting with a final wave.
He counted one, two, three, then Bailey turned to him. “Oh, Luc.”
He folded her into his chest, as she shuddered, and his shirt grew wet. Whoa. “Bails? What’s happened?”
She shook her head, sniffling, and he caught sight of Poppy James standing at the office door. He made a “What’s wrong?” gesture at her, and Poppy grimaced, then drew close, and placed a hand on Bailey’s back.
“Bails? You need to tell him.”
“You tell him,” Bailey rasped.
“Okay.” Poppy sighed. “Bailey got sent some gross images, and has had a bunch of idiots make all kinds of rude comments. She’s taken her phone to the police which is why they still have it, just in case you’ve tried to call her recently.”
“I did, I have.” He bent to see Bailey. He’d never seen her cry like this before, and the sight ripped at his heart. “Bails, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. I wish I’d known.”
“I know you’ve been busy, and I didn’t want to get in the way of all you had to do.”
“Hey.” He glanced at Poppy, and tried to gesture for her to scram without saying it. He appreciated her, but right now needed a moment alone with his girl.
Poppy smirked and sashayed back to the office, earning herself a thank-you bouquet later, and he picked Bailey up and hugged her closer to his chest. “Bails, you’re safe. You’re okay. I’m here, and I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”
Except it already had. He grimaced. Then stroked her soft, soft hair, as her breathing calmed. A desperate desire to say three words he’d never told another woman gathered in his mouth. He swallowed. He was so bad at this boyfriend stuff, but knew he could’ve—should’ve—done better. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around much. I promise I’ll do better.”
She lifted a tearstained face, and swiped at her tears. “Oh, Luc. It’s not you.”
“Are you sure? I’m not great at knowing what you need, but if you tell me, I’ll do my best to help.”
She crumpled, her arms around his shoulders. “That’s all I really need.”
Okay, then. He hugged her, silently praying for her to know peace, as her breath shuddered.
“I don’t even know why I’m so upset. I think it’s just everything feels so much. Too much. It’s crazy to think that when we were doing the show things actually felt a lot easier, and now it’s all so overwhelming.”
“What’s overwhelming you?”
“The business. There have been so many applications and students, and offers to partner with us pouring in, we can’t keep up.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yes,” she wailed, then laughed.
It was a pale version of the laughter he loved so much, but it was a start, and a thousand percent better than her tears.
“It is a good thing, and I shouldn’t complain. It’s just we’ve been overwhelmed with trying to figure out how to go forward and what classes to have, and then I have to redo the website and then there are all these creepy people out there.”
Yeah, that. His hands clenched, and he forced himself to calm. She didn’t need him getting furious about the weirdos. Besides, “The police are handling that now, aren’t they?”
“Yes. But my phone number is the one associated with the business, so I hate to think that some idiots out there are stopping potential clients or opportunities.”
Like Joanne calling about Bailey returning next season. But now was not the time to talk about that. “The people who really want you will figure out other ways to be in touch. And the police will likely find out soon who has done this, so I’m sure it won’t be long until you’re back to normal.”
“But that’s the thing.” She pulled away, looked up at him seriously, as he cradled her waist. “I don’t know if there is a normal anymore. We can’t go back to being unknown. I’m always going to be the dance pro who danced with Luc Blanchard.”
He knew exactly what she meant. The level of interest in his life was something he’d never expected. He wondered if people like Zac Parotti ever figured out how to manage success. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m always going to be known as the celebrity who was lucky enough to dance with Bailey Donovan.”
She laughed then, a real laugh, her smile shining in her eyes this time, not just in her lips. He slid his hands up her back, to her neck, to her cheeks, and lowered his face. “I’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she whispered.
