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“The whole company?” Woo, that was a big deal. Reid nodded, then pressed his forehead into her shoulder. She read the first couple of lines and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Can you say that?”
“It’s the truth.”
It was brutally honest. It wouldn’t stay a simple apology to Plus staff. It was too entertaining for that. The more she read, the more nervous she got, thinking about how these words would take on a life of their own and how that would affect Reid. She reached for his hand and held it. The more she read, the more she understood this would strip his professional reputation away entirely.
“I don’t think you need to go this far.” It was career suicide. Was he too tired to see that?
“Halfway good won’t get it done.”
It was a rewind to the night he took the Lucky’s crew out for breakfast. They’d talked about pole dancing and stripping and owning what you did. That was the night they started this thing, and this was Reid to his core, this time, owning his failure.
She read on, and when she got to the part where he wrote about someone new in his life he cared about, she closed her eyes. His words on screen were going to make her cry.
“Is that someone me?”
He turned her face from the screen. He was done with words. It was in the slope of his shoulders and the weight of his hand on her hip. In the pinched skin between his brows and the smudges under his eyes. He was done with this day and this issue and feeling
shitty. And yet once he sent those words into the world he was opening himself up for more criticism and attention.
There was resignation on his lips when they kissed and a ragged hope in the way he held her that he hadn’t ruined them too. They ate, he put a movie on but neither of them paid much attention to it. Reid’s hands never left her. Spooning her, he played with her hair, held her so they fitted together.
“Come away with me, Flygirl.”
She understood why now. “Where would we go?”
“Where would you like to go?
Maybe they could drive out to LA or even head to Portland. If she missed a few days of school, it wouldn’t kill. Missing work was more of an issue. The only travel she’d done had been for competitions. She’d been to Moscow and Prague but had never been to Disneyland. “How about Vegas?” There’d be plenty of mischief to have there.
He laughed, “I was thinking further afield.”
She rolled over to face him. “Texas.” He thought she could fly; she’d show him how high.
He smiled. “What’s in Texas that’s got you excited?”
“The longest waterslide in the world. It’s got this sweet kicking ramp you can do aerials off. I’ve wanted to go for ages.” For Royal Flush in Texas she’d take a few days off work.
“I was thinking Paris.”
There was a Paris in Kentucky. She knew a gymnast who lived there. His family was into horses.
Reid put a hand to her knee. “I was thinking you might like to visit Madame Amour.”
Madame Amour was in Paris, France.
She scrambled off the sofa. “Europe. You want to go to Europe.”
“I want to get out of here.” He sat. She couldn’t stand still. “I want you to try out for the scholarship.”
“No. What?” How did he know about that? Anyway it would be over. Some other dancer who’d passed the audition and gotten themselves to Paris to perform would’ve locked the scholarship prize money away by now. It was easier to dream of aerials in Texas than center stage at the most exclusive gentlemen’s club in the world.
“How do you know about that?”
“It came up at breakfast that first night and I saw the flyer on Kathryn’s coffee table. I looked the place up. It’s a champagne and supper club. Membership only with a waiting list. An international clientele. No sex on the premises.”
She slapped her hands down on her thighs. “Oh my God. I’m not good enough to be an Amour performer. I dance at a two-bit dive bar.”
“Like hell.”
