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That rehearsal had been a mere few weeks before Christian had informed her that he was leaving her. The horrible thing was, part of her understood.
Dancing had been their shared passion. Even when Christian’s self-involvement and occasional pettiness had grated on her nerves, she had never doubted that he was committed to the dance. And he couldn’t give that up just because she could no longer perform. The part of her that was a dancer didn’t blame him at all for continuing to pursue his dream.
But the part of her that was a woman could never forgive him for loving the dance more than he’d loved her. Her breath hitched, hot tears flooding her eyes and trembling on the edge of her lashes, as she thought about Christian’s fickleness .
“Soph?” Darren’s voice came quietly from behind her. She swiped hurriedly at her eyes and turned to face him, wobbly smile in place.
“Is class over already? That went fast!” she said, feigning pleasant surprise.
Darren put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “Everyone’s just packing up. You okay?”
“I’m great,” she chirped. Her nails bit into her palms, the tiny pricks of pain offering her a distraction. Darren crossed his arms, leaned his hip against the desk, and waved absently to the students as they exited.
“Mhmm,” he replied, doubt evident in his tone. “And I just taught twenty kids how to tango in half an hour.”
She hiccuped a short laug
h. “I should let you teach classes more often.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, whatever. Fine. You don’t want to talk about it. Message received. All I’m going to say is—”
The phone rang. Sophie could have kissed the person on the other line. As much as she loved Darren, hearing him bad-mouth Christian wasn’t going to help. She snatched up the receiver and held it to her ear. “Silent Poetry Studio, this is Sophie.”
“Have you thought about my offer?” Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of Henry’s throaty rumble. Darren inclined his head, eyes questioning, but she waved him off.
“Oh, hello,” she said lamely, too caught off guard to address his question. She could hear the scratch of a pen on paper and pictured the gorgeous businessman poised over his desk, a slick suit hugging his muscled form.
“The offer?” he asked again, more insistent this time.
He didn’t sound like he was willing to take no for an answer, but she was still skeptical. Why did he want the lessons to take place at his house? Why did he want lessons at all? “I’m sorry, but I’m too busy with the classes I’m already teaching.”
Darren’s eyebrows shot up in realization and a knowing smile creeped across his face. Sophie shoved at him, biting her lip to keep from giggling at his expression. The scratching of the pen on the other line stopped and turned into a low tapping.
“I’m willing to work around your schedule, Sophie.” An edge had creeped into his voice.
She was surprised by his apparent anger and wavered a little. He seemed to want this badly, but her knee chose that moment to give another sharp throb, and she knew she couldn’t take Henry up on his offer. “No. I’m sorry, it’s just not going to work.”
The clicking sound sped up. “What do you charge for classes?” he demanded.
“It depends, maybe a couple hundred but—”
“I’ll pay a thousand dollars an hour. That should more than cover the cost of your time away from the studio.”
Sophie sucked in a quick breath. She suddenly felt sick with the thought that he was propositioning her—no one would pay that kind of money just for private tango lessons. “Excuse me?” Her voice came out in a squeak.
“You can’t say no to that.”
She swallowed heavily. He was offering a lot of money, and Sophie was not so rich she could just turn up her nose at it. But Henry was wrong. She could say no, and she would. Money like that came with strings attached, and she knew she’d be indebted to him for more than just dance lessons.
“I don’t have time for this, you have my answer,” she said.
There was a moment of silence on the other line before he spoke again. “When you change your mind, call me.”
Sophie chewed her lower lip, aware that his number would be programmed into her caller ID. “I’m not going to change my mind.”
“We’ll see,” he said before hanging up.
Sophie slammed the phone into the receiver and braced herself for Darren’s slew of questions. She knew he was chomping at the bit to ask her what that had been about but she was too angry to talk about it.
