“I don’t understand.” A swirl of anxiety pooled in my gut. “The goal of the sessions was for Vincent and Asher to learn how to work together. If Vincent isn’t here, then…”
“That was one of the goals. However, they still need to train like normal athletes. We’ve already signed a contract with Blackcastle, and they’ve paid through the summer. There’s no use undoing all of that simply because of one departure.”
“Right.” I forced a smile. Damn contracts.
“That means you’ll be working with Asher one-on-one.” Lavinia peered at me over the rim of her glasses. “Will that be a problem?”
“I—no. Of course not.”
Personal sessions with Asher. That was fine.
Totally. Fine.
Did Vincent know? He’d left our dinner convinced that the Boss would cut the training program short. If he didn’t, he was going to be livid when he found out, but he couldn’t do anything about it at this point. There was no way our father would let him come back until the nurse was out of his house.
Like it or not, I was stuck with Asher for the rest of the summer.
“Is there something else you’d like to discuss?” Lavinia asked pointedly.
My no reached the tip of my tongue just as my eyes rested on the photo behind Lavinia. It featured the cast after last year’s staff showcase. Every instructor was present except for me and Barden, who’d been on his honeymoon.
Which role are you auditioning for? I’d love to see you onstage.
A shard of ice pierced my gut.
I’d lied about being too busy for the showcase. The truth was, I missed being onstage. I missed the glide of smooth wood beneath my feet, the pulse-pounding crescendos during pivotal scenes, the feeling of transcendence when it was just me and the music.
When I was onstage, I didn’t overthink; I simply moved.
But my desire to perform again didn’t outweigh my fears. I hadn’t truly danced onstage in five years. If I tried, would I aggravate old wounds or, worse, fail altogether?
Scarlett DuBois. She was the next big star; now look at her. She can’t even audition for a school showcase.
The shard of ice slid deeper behind my rib cage.
“No,” I said in response to Lavinia’s question. “Nothing else.”
I left her office and shook my head at Carina’s questioning stare. I’d explain things to her later.
For the rest of the day, I attempted not to think about Asher or the showcase. Instead, I answered Emma’s questions about how to prep for a big show, listened to Carina regale me with wild tales about the students’ parents over lunch (dance moms were a terrifying breed), checked in with my father during a break, and ignored my mother’s voicemail about setting me up on a blind date.
“Scarlett, love, call me back when you get the chance,” she said. “I have the most marvelous prospect for you. He’s a res—”
“You changed your outfit.”
My phone slipped out of my hand and clattered to the studio floor. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on people like that.”
Asher leaned against the doorframe, the picture of effortless devastation in jeans and a gray shirt.
Ugh. How was it possible for someone to look that good in such a basic outfit?
I frowned, irrationally annoyed.
God definitely had favorites, and Asher was one of them.
“I didn’t sneak up on you,” he said, laughter coloring his voice. “You were just too busy to notice me.”
I swiped my phone off the floor. At least my mother’s voicemail had ended, so he didn’t have to overhear whatever scheme she’d concocted to “liven up” my “tragically nonexistent” love life.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I asked. “We don’t have anything scheduled today.”
It was Thursday, and our sessions were every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Asher offered a casual shrug. “I was in the area and thought I’d drop by.”
“For?”
“No reason. Just felt like it.”
“You’re telling me the Asher Donovan has nothing better to do with his time than drop by a ballet academy?”
A shadow flickered in those crystalline green eyes. “I have other things I could do,” he said. “I wouldn’t say they’re better.”
Warm air breezed through the open windows and brushed the nape of my neck. It traveled the length of my spine all the way down to my toes, making my skin tingle from the inside out.
Then Asher blinked, and the moment dissolved like honey in a sun-kissed ocean.
“Actually, I did have something to tell you,” he said. “I spoke with my publicist. She took care of the paparazzi from yesterday. They were trespassing on private property, and we were able to scare them into agreeing not to publish any of the photos.”
