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Josey laughs, “You’re very transparent, Eve. It’s not hard to see what you’re thinking. I can now see why you made it as a dancer. Your facial expressions are loud—all of the time.”
“I never knew I was doing it. I suppose it comes second nature; showing emotion is a huge part of being a contemporary dancer. I obviously don’t know when to turn it off.”
“It’s not a bad thing.”
I think about it for a moment, however, there are more important things on my mind. “Josey, the last thing I want to do is hurt your uncle, or you for that matter. The room became all-consuming and I needed space from it, that’s all. Am I sad that I’m missing out on the spotlight? Sometimes. Am I overwhelmed? Heck yes! Am I going back to dancing? I honestly don’t know. All of these factors are weighing heavy on my conscience right now.” I don’t know what to say any further.
“How about we go back out there, have a dance if you’re up for it otherwise if you’re still feeling overwhelmed then I’ll get you a ride home. Please, Eve, I want you to have a good time, too.”
How can I say no to her? My gut is churning. It all comes down to my time at the center coming to an end, my feelings for Harvey and an unknown future.
I pull my shoulders back for Josey’s sake.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Fourteen
Evelyn
As promised, I went back into the room with my head held high and a brave face. Josey is right, I need to get my shit together and figure out what is going on.
I know I have feelings for Harvey. My heart flutters every time I’m near him and when he speaks, his voice sends bolts of electricity through my skin.
When I was growing up, I always dreamed of being a dancer and that’s all I ever wanted. I never thought of anything else, not living in castles nor finding prince charming but here he is. Right before my eyes.
I think back to what Josey told me and my expressions being readable, then disguise my thoughts by sipping on my glass of wine.
“Better?” Harvey asks, observing me.
“Much,” I reply during sips.
“Would you like to dance? If you’re feeling up to it, of course.” I replace my wine glass with Harvey’s inviting hand, then let him lead me to the almost empty floor space. As the slow song plays, Harvey keeps hold of our joined hands. He proceeds to wrap his free arm around my waist, splaying his hand on my lower back. His touch warms me completely. It heats my blood in a welcoming way and as I rest my hand on his shoulder, we start to sway.
It’s enjoyable.
I relax into him and live for the moment, forgetting all my woes from earlier.
“You really do look magnificent tonight, beautiful.” His kind words bring a single tear to my eye. He’s enchanting. It gives me hope that there’s a chance to have both.
“Thank you.” I gratefully accept his compliment. “You look pretty dapper yourself.” I rub my hand over his shoulder and down his arm, giving a cheeky squeeze of his bicep before I stop slightly above his elbow.
One song morphs into many others as we seek comfort in each other’s embrace, but I can now feel the effects of fatigue as my body protests.
“I think it’s time for me to get you home,” Harvey gently whispers into my ear. I don’t have to answer as he leads me back to our table and we make our excuses to leave.
The media hype from earlier has died down, if not completely dwindled. It’s nice to breathe in the fresh air without people demanding responses to questions I don’t have answers for. It’s one thing to be in the public eye for something you’re known for, but when you step into a world that’s not yours it can be kind of terrifying.
As the car pulls to a stop in front of us, I then wait as the driver rounds the car to open my door. Once that door is open, I’m almost throwing myself in the car to get some privacy; the now quiet doesn’t mean there aren’t any journalists or photographers lurking in the shadows.
I rest my cane against the door and place my purse beside me. I’m trying to look unaffected, however from tonight’s insights I know the moment we pull away Harvey will have questions of his own.
“You miss it.” Harvey’s words always state the facts.
Regardless of his closed statement, I self-admit that I do miss it. “I miss it all. The sweat, the tears of triumph, the spotlight beaming down on me as I dance. I miss the social events and dare I say it, I miss the limelight.”
Harvey nods his acknowledgment, taking in my account for what it really is—pining.
“Will you go back?” His words catch me off guard and I hesitate with my response.
