“Actually Mr. Edge, I’ve done all the work that needed to be done.” Elise finally spoke up.
“The final edits on Rhodium’s contract for the soundtrack of the film?”
“Sent to your email, ready for review.” Elise answered without missing a beat.
“The press release for Nia’s EP launch?”
“Drafted, with a few revisions from the marketing team. It’s ready for your sign-off.”
Fuck. There really was no other reason for her not to go other than the fact that I didn’t want her to.
“Sounds to me like you’re free. Shall we go?” Owen turned to smile at Elise. It was the kind of smile that sent women into mass hysteria but surely someone like Elise was immune.
“Okay,” Elise looked as if she was seconds away from melting into a pool at his feet. Guess I was wrong about immunity. The flames of anger burned hotter when Owen rested his hand on Elise’s waist. “Unless you need me for something else?” She looked at me.
I opened my mouth. To say what? I’m not entirely sure. I couldn’t tell her to stay without a valid reason and I didn’t have one, at least not one that made sense.
“No. Go ahead. I don’t need you.”
I turned and headed back to my office without another word, but not before I caught a glimpse of the hurt that flickered in Elise’s eyes.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ELISE
I BOUNCED MYleg anxiously, the tap-tap-tap of my sneaker against the scuffed floor of the audition waiting room the only thing keeping me grounded.
The energy in the air was electric with a mix of nerves, ambition, and the overpowering scent of hairspray. Dancers around me stretched, murmured choreography under their breath, and checked their reflections in the massive mirrors lining the walls.
I tried to do the same. Calm my racing heart, breathe, and focus, but it was impossible when my stomach was a mess of knots.
Thiswasn’tjustanydanceaudition.It was for Zane Calloway.TheZane Calloway.As in Titan’s choreographer, as well asone of the most influential and talented choreographers of my generation.The man whose work made me fall deeper in love with hip-hop dance in the first place. If I got past this round, I’d be one step closer to making my dream come true.
I checked my number—123—and gripped the little square of paper tighter. Every few minutes, a new number was called. Every few minutes, another dancer disappeared behind the heavy black doors that separated the audition room from us hopefuls. Some came back glowing.
Others, not so much.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I heard my number called.
“Dancer one twenty-three.”
Oh God. That was me.
I swallowed hard, rising to my feet on autopilot. My legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself forward, offering a polite smile to the assistant ushering me in. The room was blindingly bright, a massive space with a long panel of judges with Zane Calloway himself at the center watching with an unreadable expression. The music started, and for the first few beats, I was fine but then I missed a step.
It was small, just a fraction off-beat, but I knew it was noticeable. I tried to recover, but the mistake threw me. My movements felt stiff and unnatural, as if I was trying too hard instead of just dancing. My limbs, usually fluid and precise, were awkward and heavy.
By the time the music stopped, my heart was hammering for all the wrong reasons.
There was a polite pause before Zane leaned forward slightly, offering a smooth, professional smile. “Thank you for coming, Elise. We appreciate your time.”
The line that was practically the kiss of death in an audition.
I nodded, barely able to choke out a “Thank you” before I rushed out of the room. My vision blurred as I grabbed my bag and made my way outside, shoving through the exit doors into the crisp air.
I messed up. Big time.
I blinked rapidly, trying to will away the tears burning my eyes, but it was useless. The disappointment sat heavy in my chest, suffocating. Iknewthis audition was a long shot, but I didn’t think I’d bomb itthatbadly.
