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“Is that why you came back?” he asks, looking like he’s trying to be careful with his words.
“Yes.” That’s the shortest version of what happened.
“Please tell me Club Edge isn’t the end of your dancing career.”
“No.” At least I have some light at the end of this dark tunnel to look forward to, but it’s not happening anytime soon. “I have the lead part in a production with the Emersons Dance Company. That’s for the summer. Then I have an audition with the New York City Ballet in the fall.”
He looks impressed to hear that. “Wow, well, that’s fantastic.”
“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m sure you are, and I’m sure you’ll get the part.”
“It would great.”
Those from the dance world will know how rare it is to get an audition with the New York City Ballet, but my previous credentials opened the door.
Teaching at the academy and the part I have with the Emersons Dance Company have also helped. Especially the latter. It’s only a small production that will run from June to September, but it’s something active and shows I can still get dancing jobs. Too many gaps of not doing anything doesn’t look good on a dancer’s resumé. I’ve had almost two years of nothingness.
Only God knows how much I would have loved to go back to the Bolshoi Ballet and live the dream I had for as long as I could remember, but my position was filled long ago. In any event, I know my heart can’t handle the whole ordeal of returning to Russia.
“Until then, I’m teaching at a school. So, at least I’m still dancing.” I have a feeling he already knew that I teach at the school because he knew to find me here.
“That’s good, too. What about everything else? You’re working three jobs.” He intensifies his stare, and my breath stills.
I knew we were building up to that question, and for that answer I need to think.
“I have a few things I need to take care of.”
“A few things?” His brows knit.
“Just bills.”
“Must be a lot of bills for you to be working at Club Edge.”
Yeah, like a minimum of a hundred thousand.I’m not telling him that, though.
“I can take care of it. It will be fine.”
“Why don’t you let me take care—”
“I think your five minutes are up.” The words fall from my lips instinctively, cutting him off before he can finish his offer. His offer to help me with money.
Maybe most people would think I’m completely foolish to turn him down in such a way and not even consider an offer for help, but that would just shove me deeper into the hole of humiliation.
Jericho catches my meaning, and the understanding that I don’t want his money forms in his eyes.
I wonder if he’s shocked that this Cinderella turned him down when every woman he’s probably been with since me has treated him like a king because of his wealth and status.
I might be the damsel in distress, and yes, I had the evil stepmother and a stepsister who managed to rob my father blind of everything after his accident, but Jericho Grayson is not my Prince Charming.
With that reasoning, I stand, pick up my notebook and pen. His gaze follows me, then locks with mine.
“I should get back to work.”
He blinks, severing the tension filling the space between us. “Okay.” He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “It was good seeing you again, River.”
“You, too.”
