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He had. When she pushed aside her tumult about tomorrow’s competition, happiness sneaked in, again and again. The thought that, after last night, she might never see Alejandro again, gouged her with deep shards of pain. And it shouldn’t. Their relationship had been short. Intense, yes, but nothing to build a lifetime on?
Why did she feel like she was selling them short?
“He sounds like the kind of guy who wouldn’t demand you give up your dream,” her father said. “If he can make you happy and give you the freedom to pursue what you want professionally, why aren’t you grabbing onto him with both hands?”
Yeah, why not? “With him as a distraction, I may never win.”
“Would you rather lose a competition or the man you love?”
“It’s not that simple, Dad. If I…divide my time, I won’t be as dedicated. If I never become a champion, you won’t think I’m weak?”
“Would it really matter if I did?”
Shanna paused. Thought. Alejandro’s love or her dad’s approval? No choice. “It would bother me if you weren’t proud, but I’m an adult.” She drew in a deep breath as her realization became an admission. “I should be doing what makes me happy.”
“Yes, and you need a man’s love more than Daddy’s blessing.”
She nodded. “Jason, Ash, and Kyle would make fun of me if I chose to be with Alejandro.”
Her dad rolled his eyes. “They’d make fun of you no matter what you did. They’re convinced that’s their prerogative as big brothers.”
In spite of the weirdness of the conversation, Shanna laughed. “You think?”
The smile faded as something occurred to her. “I’m not sure matters with Alejandro will be as simple as me expressing my feelings. Let’s say I’ve played very hard to get. He may not be talking to me after I, um…sneaked out on him this morning.”
“Why don’t you send him tickets to tomorrow’s competition? I bet he shows. I want to meet the man who managed to see beyond your Bitch of the Ballroom act.”
“You’re coming tomorrow?”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Whether you’re crowned champion of the ballroom or of Alejandro’s heart, I’m proud no matter what.”
9
Waiting in the darkened corner of the ballroom’s dance floor, Shanna drew in a deep breath, smoothed her hair, straightened her sleeve, shifted her weight. And scanned the crowd—again.
Nothing.
“You must not fidget.”
If she hadn’t been so nervous, she would have laughed at Kristoff. Why not just tell her she shouldn’t breathe? “I know. Sorry.”
“You are nervous?” her big, blond partner stood behind her and whispered in her ear. “Do you fear losing?”
The competition? Not as much as she thought. They would lose, of course, and during her largely sleepless night, she’d come to accept that. Kristoff had only been living his personal life, and he’d tried to engage in his kink of choice in a responsible environment. It wasn’t his fault someone had it out for her and had circumvented Sneak Peek’s rules to hurt her. But Alejandro? She absolutely feared losing him. In fact, she suspected she already had.
Shanna had delivered the tickets to Sneak Peak in person this morning. Del had greeted her at the door. Actually, greeted was a strong word. Met was more accurate. Reluctantly, in fact. His behavior had been considerably cooler than their last meeting. When he said he’d give the tickets to Ali, she added that she hoped he would visit her before the show so they could talk. Del had merely given her a terse nod, then shut the door in her face.
Clearly, she’d hurt Ali enough to seriously piss off Del.
Alejandro hadn’t come to see her before the competition. Another scan of the ballroom…there sat her father, who waved. She smiled back, but she still didn’t see Alejandro’s coffee-dark hair, swagger, or sin-laced smile.
Had she pushed him away one too many times? The painful thought tightened her stomach into impossible knots. Throwing up didn’t feel out of the question.
“Shanna, you are nervous about the routine?”
No. She and Kristoff were ready. Beyond ready. They knew these dances. They had perfected their chemistry and rhythm on the floor. The blackmailer’s footage would keep them from winning, but they would give their best showing. She couldn’t ask for more than that.
“Or do you regret that you were unable to replace me with a new partner in time for this competition?”
Scowling at his bitter tone, Shanna glanced over her shoulder at Kristoff. Mouth pinched, eyes tight, shoulders stiff. Damn, he looked nervous. Petrified. What was that about? He was never wound up before a competition. Maybe he was rattled about the video potentially circulating the judges’ table? After all, this threat affected his career, too.
As Kristoff continued to watch her with narrow, burning eyes, and she replayed his question in her head, Shanna finally understood.
