“The same as mine.”
“That’s... that’s insane.” I hesitated, my hand itching to place the card back down on his desk. “What if I spend a lot?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Don’t tempt me. I have expensive taste.”
“I’m counting on it.” Nathan replied, evenly.
I tapped my chin playfully. “Now, are we thinking classy and professional or are you hoping I show up in something that makes the photographers assume we’re dating?”
Nathan’s jaw twitched, and a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I'll leave the choice up to you.”
I grinned. “You know, just trying to strike the right balance between a powerful assistant and a red carpet baddie.”
“Try not to get carried away,” he muttered.
I gripped the card tightly in my hand.“You might regret giving me this.”
“I doubt that,” Nathan said smoothly but his eyes followed me in a way that made my skin prickle. “And Elise?”
“Yeah?”
His gaze lingered on me. “You’ll look beautiful in whatever you decide.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
ELISE
THERE WAS SOMETHINGto be said about the fact that I was dancing the night after my ex left a cryptic message and gift on my doorstep. My brain wouldn’t let me dwell on the fact that my ex-boyfriend was out of jail and hunting me down. So instead of focusing on a situation that would lead me to a fetal position in the corner of my room, I focused on the one thing Jax didn’t take from me: Dance.
Other than work and Kelsey, dance had been the only constant thing in my life since Jax went to jail. In the beginning, when I had nightmares of Jax breaking out, I’d wake up and turn on some music and dance until the only thing that mattered was the ache in my muscles and the familiar surge of happiness that coursed through me whenever I got my body moving.
It was the same feeling that raced down my spine as the last few lyrics of the song I was dancing to floated around the room, only now I couldn’t decide if the reason I was dancing tonight was to distract myself from thoughts of Jax or to distract me from thoughts of Nathan.
It was definitely a mixture of both.
Walking into the dance studio after work was instinct. It was different than all the other times I’d snuck off after my shift.
All thanks to one phone call and hearing Jax’s voice again.
Even now, the echo of Jax’s promise slithered down my spine like smoke.
“I’m going to see you again sooner than you think.”
His voice was familiar, venom-soaked, and had sunk its claws into my thoughts and refused to let go.
I hadn’t realized how badly my hands were shaking until I was holding onto the studio’s barre, pressing my palms flat against the cool wood, like I could push the panic out through my skin.
I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but I couldn’t stop the swirl of rage and fear twisting beneath my ribs. I hated that even hearing his voice still had the power to make my skin crawl, to make me question whether I was truly safe or if the locks on my door were enough or if the life I built without him could hold steady beneath the weight of his shadow.
And still, I didn’t run home. I didn’t hide. I didn’t let myself break.
I danced.
Because when everything else in my world had collapsed, dance remained. Unchanged. Untouched. And when the first note of music filled the studio, it was like my lungs expanded for the first time all day. My feet moved automatically, muscle memory taking over where my anxiety refused to let me think. Each step, each breath, was a rebellion against the fear Jax had tried to chain me to. Every roll of my hips, every deliberate movement, was a quiet reminder that I was still mine.
He didn’t own me anymore.
