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Addisyn wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. If she did, she’d smudge the makeup of the woman who was getting ready to perform for Brian and Ed—the woman who was an ornament, a trophy, a prize, but who was no longer Addisyn Miles.
THIS WAS IT.The big one. Everything hinged on now. Brian took a deep breath and smoothed his hair as he strode down the hall toward the elevator. He glanced at his Apple watch.
11:19. Perfect. Ed had told him he would be arriving at the hotel by eleven thirty. Brian planned to take him to the bar for a tall glass of something to loosen him up. Hopefully he would be nice and relaxed, charmed by Brian’s hospitality and ready to be generous, by the time he saw Addisyn skate at noon.
Come on!Brian cursed under his breath. Why was the elevator taking so long? Finally the light blinked, and the metal door slid smoothly open. He darted inside and punched the button for the ground floor.
On his way down, he glanced around. Nice elevator. Wood paneling on the inside, real tile floor. Brian maintained that you could always tell the quality of a place by the interior of the elevators. And the Rayard Arena had the classiest setup in Chicago. Nothing but the best for him and his girl.
Addisyn was upstairs getting ready, or so he’d heard. They’d picked out her outfit day before yesterday—a stunning black velvet backless leotard with an A-line mini skirt and a plunging neckline. His heart beat faster at the thought. He couldn’t wait to see her in it. His girl—all dressed up and beautiful.
He breathed in deeply. He felt a little apprehensive. No,apprehensivewas the wrong word. He just wanted everything to go well. He arrived in the lobby, took a seat on one of the overstuffed chairs, and watched the doors.
A man swinging a briefcase marched briskly through the entrance, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head. Brian was just jumping up when he realized the man was a fellow about his own age with a thick black beard. Ed was forty-five, bald, and clean-shaven. Brian sat back down.
Some nice classical music was playing in the background. Brian forced himself to focus on the melody, to try to relax. There was absolutely no reason to suppose everything wouldn’t go just fine. Even after more than half a year out of training, Addisyn was skating gorgeously—like an ice angel. She had a delicate, graceful style of motion—with the power to support even the most difficult jumps. Plus, she was strikingly beautiful.
But despite her talent, Addisyn herself was one of Brian’s top worries. He’d been evading the issue in his mind, but no question about it—she’d been undoubtedly different since she came back from Whistler.
For one thing, she was just quieter. She didn’t talk and giggle as much. Brian had tried to reason that maybe she was just growing up, leaving that teenage exuberance behind. But it seemed more as if she were quiet because she was thinking. Thinking—and remembering.
But it wasn’t just quietness. It was—Brian searched through the archives of his mind and finally found the perfect phrase. It was a loss of passion.
Addisyn skated like a dream. She worked with a relentless determination. She continued to pour just as much of her time and energy into skating as she had before Whistler. But the sparkle was gone. The passion was missing.
Passion for skating—and passion for him. Brian clenched his fists. She almost seemed as if she weren’t in love with him any longer. He could remember the time when she’d hung on every word he said. Now she was indifferent to him at best. She almost seemed as if he didn’t matter to her anymore one way or the other.
She’d insisted on her own room, for crying out loud. That thought still infuriated Brian. Her own room? Really? As though she were some holy model of purity. He snickered. They’d shared enough nights together that it shouldn’t matter anymore to her.
Just you wait, baby.Brian blew out a slow breath, trying to calm himself, and worked the muscles in his jaw. Okay, so he’d gone along with her ridiculous thing about needing her own room—hadn’t even complained—even though it doubled the hotel expense for him and deprived him of some real fun. And you would have thought that after all he’d done for her, he was entitled to some—compensation.
He’d given in with a good grace just to keep her happy through the performance. Deep within his soul was the unspoken certainty—a thought he refused to even glance at—that she had the power to completely train-wreck everything. She could refuse to skate for Ed—refuse to skate anymore, period. She could pack her bags and catch a plane for somewhere else, anywhere else—and there wasn’t a thing he could do.
But after today’s deal—one way or another—that was going to end. Brian had never been thwarted by a female before, and he wasn’t about to start now. He’d had to keep Addisyn calm until her skate was over, but tonight, she’d be his girl again, body and soul—or else.
EYE CANDY. EYEcandy. Eye candy.The words jerked rhythmically in Addisyn’s mind in time with her steps. She paced the length of the tiny dressing room, turned around, paced back. Over and over.
The tight turns in the small space were making her dizzy. She plopped down in a small metal chair and looked with distaste around the room.
Like every other little dressing room she’d used before, it had slightly worn and dirty carpet, stark furnishings, a mess of cosmetics and clothes, and a wall of mirrors.
It was the mirrors that Addisyn hated now. Because every time she glanced in them, a streetwalker looked out.
A moan fled from the scarred chambers of her heart. “I can’t do this!” The frantic whisper sizzled in the air. She rose and started pacing again.
Her thoughts whirled about like confetti. What had happened to her? How had she gotten to this point?
Who was she?
Sickness curled around the edges of her torso. She folded her arms over her stomach.
A knock on the door made her jump. “Yes, who is it?” Her voice cracked slightly. She hoped the person didn’t notice.
“Baby, it’s me. Everything good?”
The sick feeling intensified with the sound of Brian’s voice. Addisyn swallowed hard. “Just fine. I’m getting dressed.” Well, technically she was getting ready to get dressed.
“Great.” Brian’s voice was nervous but confident at the same time. “Ed just got here. I’m gonna take him to the bar, calm him down a little before your performance. Remember to be on the rink no later than eleven fifty. That leaves time for you to warm up. And I want you to stretch first, okay?”
