Chapter 17

Seventeen

SARA

As the dayneared its end, exhaustion knock me to my knees. Rebecca barked out orders all afternoon. Before heading home, I pushed through the red door to the bathroom and lurched back when I ran into Estella. She stood by the sink, applying makeup. Tall and slender, she was absolutely stunning. Her long, dark locks were pulled up on a high pony tail. She paused when she heard me enter, and looked at me from the corner of her eyes before returning to her task. The room vibrated with an uncomfortable energy. My gut twisted. I knew I couldn’t remain silent anymore.

“Estella, I think we need to talk.”

Without looking at me, she muttered, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What I saw this morning.”

Through the bathroom mirror, she glared at me with contempt.

“I’m just worried about you,” I continued.

She finished her makeup routine with a touch of red lipstick. After smacking her lips together, she put her makeup back in her bag, then turned to look at me. “Honestly, I don’t know how any of this is your business.”

“I understand what you are struggling through and—”

She stepped closer, her face inches from mine. “No. You don’t. You should stick to being Rebecca’s little puppet. Leave the dancing to us.”

My breath caught for a brief moment as I took a mental step back. “Dancing? You think I’m worried about your dancing? I’m concerned about what Alexei is doing to you. What he’s doing to all of the girls. He not only humiliated you in front of everyone, he is using you until the next pretty girl comes around that he can fuck. He’ll give her the lead and dump you on your ass. Can’t you see that?”

Fury sparking in her eyes, she grabbed her bag from the bathroom sink and sneered at me. “All I see is a has-been. I know your little secret. Why you sneak into the back of the studio to watch us rehearse. Your dreams died already, Sara. Let me enjoy mine.” Then she stormed out of the bathroom.

I stared after her, watching as the door to the bathroom slowly closed. Then I turned to my reflection in the mirror, my eyes crackling with anger and pain.

All I wanted was to protect her and she called me a has-been? My hands gripped the edge of the sink with an iron grasp. I’d been amazing once. Better than all of them put together. Now, I was nothing but a joke.

The Juilliard promise was a pathetic pencil pusher. The truth of my failure was smeared on my face. I was miserable and everybody knew it. Why had I chosen to work at a dance company after everything that happened? Why did I punish myself with the constant reminder of the person I’d never be? The torment of all the years living in denial hit my chest harder than a bolt of lightning.

Sara Hart is a has-been.

Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes and I sank to the floor. I had worked so hard to convince myself I was okay with lurking in the shadows of these dancers, secretly pretending to be one of them. Meanwhile, they’d known. And they’d been laughing at me.

God, I wanted to run out of there and never return. This whole thing was a nightmare I didn’t know how to escape.

As I sat there on the cold floor, feeling sorry for myself, my phone rang.

Wiping the tears, I smiled as I saw who was calling. Of course. My Knight in Shining Armor. “Tom?”

“Hey, beautiful. Just checking in on you. How was the rest of your day?”

“Um…I ah…” but I wasn’t able to finish my sentence because I started crying again. I hated that I felt so fragile. That I was sobbing like a goddamn baby even after all these years since the accident, but Estella really opened up my wounds and now I felt raw and completely broken.

“Sara, what happened? Did that asshole hurt you? Because I swear I’ll come down there right now and smash his face in.”

“It wasn’t Alexei…”

“Then who?” he demanded. “I’m on my way over.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to come get me. I tried speaking to Estella, but it didn’t go as I’d hoped and we just exchanged words.”

“What did she say to upset you?”

“Honestly, I’d rather not talk about it right now. Maybe later?”

“You want to come over my place?”

“How about mine? That way you can meet Jen, too.”

“Sounds good. I’ll bring the wine.”

Hearing his voice helped sap up my tears, and after hanging up, I rose up off the floor, and looked in the mirror again. I couldn’t recognize the woman staring back at me. She stood defeated, helpless. A ghost determined to haunt me till the day I died. Taking a deep breath, I desperately wiped away my tears and smudged mascara. I felt stupid for breaking down on the phone with Tom. What was I going to tell him?

Well, seemed I had to figure it out soon because I had just invited him over for dinner and I hadn’t even dropped the bomb on Jen yet. It was lasagna night at least, so I knew she’d cook enough for a family of six.

* * *

I called her on my way home and she screeched in my ear when I told her Tom was coming to dinner. “Are you freaking kidding me right now? The apartment is a mess, Sara. I’m a mess. And now, I need to make sure my lasagna is perfect. And I gotta run to the store to grab Italian bread…”

“Take a breath, Jen. Tom’s easy going. Plus, your lasagna is delicious. Trust me. You don’t need to go crazy.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one cooking last minute for a billionaire. Gotta run. Donelli’s might still have some fresh loaves. Bye.”

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at my apartment only to find Tom already waiting inside, chatting it up with Pedro. “There she is,” he said, turning around as I walked into the lobby, his broad smile stretching ear to ear, quite literally obliterating the cloud hovering over my head.

“How did you beat me to my own place?”

“I was already in my car when I called you.” He showed me the bottle of wine he’d brought. “Hope Jen likes red. I told the guy to give me his best bottle.”

“She’d be fine with a twenty-dollar bottle of cabernet. You didn’t have to go get all fancy.”

We headed toward the elevators and hit the call button. “Sara, I’m meeting your best friend. You understand how nerve-racking that is? If she doesn’t like me, she’ll convince you to dump my ass.”

I knew he was trying to sound ridiculous to get me to forget about my awful afternoon.

It was working. The doors opened and we scurried in. When we arrived on my floor, he ran his fingers through his hair. I grabbed his hand and guided him out. “You don’t need to be nervous about meeting Jen.”

“You have no idea how badly I don’t want to screw this up.”

“You’ll be fine.”

As I unlocked and pushed the door open, Skiddles snaked out. She rubbed her body against my legs. “Hi, girl, mama’s home.” I scooped her up in my arms and nudged her nose as I walked through the foyer. I peered back over my shoulder. Tom stood outside the doorway, his face taut with unease.

“Are you a vampire?” I asked with a smirk.

His eyebrows quirked. “Huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you waiting for an invitation? Come on in.”

Jen’s cooking saturated the air with the scent of herbs, sausage, garlic, and basil.

“Smells delicious in here,” he said as he shortened his strides, making sure to stay behind me.

“You should wait to say that in front of Jen. She loves it when people compliment her cooking.” I took him by the hand and pulled him over to the kitchen. “Hey, Jen…” I intoned softly, not sure how to gage her mood.

“Oh, hey. Just finishing up,” she chirped as she tossed a green salad.

I blew a silent sigh of relief. She was livelier than I expected. “Jen, this is Tom. Tom, this is Jen, the best friend I’ve told you about.”

Tom reached over to shake Jen’s hand.

“All good things, I hope,” she joked as she wiped her hand on her apron and accepted Tom’s friendly gesture. I noticed her hard squeeze as she turned to me, her eyes sparkling with acknowledgement.

Yes, I know he’s hot. We’ve said this. Can we move on, please?

“Pleasure to meet you, Jen,” Tom uttered, calling back her attention.

“Pleasure is all mine.” She removed her hand from his and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, a coy smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Jen was never shy, but then again, last time she’d seen him was briefly at the club. She hadn’t had the full effect of meeting Mr. Panty-Dropper.

“Lasagna will be ready in a few minutes. Make yourself at home, Tom.” She waved us away to the dining table as she turned back to the counter to finish cooking.

“Actually, we’re gonna go freshen up first. Be right back.”

In my room, Tom fidgeted with his suit jacket, not knowing where to sit or stand. Sensing the awkwardness, I guided him toward my bed and asked him to take a seat. He seemed so out of place in my tiny room. His master bedroom dwarfed the twelve-by-twelve walls that made up my sleeping quarters. Not to mention, I slept on a full-sized bed covered in a paisley duvet, while he slumbered on a four-poster California king made for royalty.

I sighed. I thought back to the moment I locked eyes with him at the coffee shop. The twinkling eyes, the playful smile, the gallant strut. He’d seemed so out of my league. The high-powered exec who drove fancy cars and took girls out on expensive dinners was seated on my bed, waiting for me to freshen up so we could have homemade lasagna made by my overprotective friend who was probably getting ready to grill his ass.

What the hell did I get myself into?

I asked Tom to chill for a bit in my room and hurried back out to the kitchen, where Jen was already arranging our place settings on the dining table.

“Jen.”

“Yeah…”

I reached for the plates and utensils and finished setting the table. “I’m sorry.”

She turned and crossed her arms. “For what?”

As I put the last fork down, I ruefully peered up to meet her stare. “For not calling you yesterday. For not being myself these last few days.” It was a sincere apology. I hated I’d completely disregarded everything she’d done to protect me from myself. She deserved better.

She briefly closed her eyes and let out a short sigh before dropping her arms and reaching for the empty wine glasses on the counter. “You know, I’m not your mother,” she said as she handed me the glasses, the chiding tone of her voice dissipating. “I don’t have any right to be upset about you not calling or not coming home to sleep. But, the truth is…I care about you. You are like a sister to me and well, I guess…I’m just worried.”

My eyes narrowed. “Worried?”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, hon. Worried. This is not you. You don’t get into cars with strangers, or get plastered to the point you barely remember the night, or run away to God knows where without telling me where you’re going and then not come home. You don’t bring guys over for dinner. You swore off men recently, remember? Now, all of a sudden there’s this man in your room. I saw the way you two looked at each other. You haven’t looked at anybody like that since…well…since Josh.”

“What are you trying to say, that I shouldn’t be in a relationship?”

“Is that what this is, then?”

“I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“You just met this guy, Sara.”

“I know. But he’s sweet and funny and the kind of man I might need right now, Jen.

“Did you sleep with him?”

I blinked hard. “What?”

“Did you sleep with him?” she pressed.

The question startled me. I was accustomed to talking to Jen about my intimacy, but perhaps it was the realization that maybe I had moved too fast that had me acting all shocked? Instinctively, I shrugged and diverted my eyes.

“You little slut,” she whispered with a laugh.

“Shut up. He’ll hear you,” I whispered back.

“When?”

“Last night.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“You told me to seize the day.”

“What? When?”

“At the club Saturday night, when Tom was bringing me home.”

“I was drunk.”

“Yeah, well. I slept with him and it was amazing.”

She smirked as she poured me a glass of the red wine Tom had brought. “That good, hmm?” she asked, her eyes shiny with playful curiosity.

I took a long gulp. The thick liquid left a warm coat on my throat. “You. Have. No. Idea.” Then we both broke out in girlish giggles.

A moment later, I brought Tom back out and we all sat ready to eat. In her best motherly impersonation, Jen placed the hot casserole dish on the table, and said, “Dig in.”

* * *

During dinner, Tom and Jen volleyed questions about their backgrounds. Jen’s eyes flashed toward me at Tom’s mention of his military past. I knew she’d grill me about it later, especially since she knew about my dad’s struggle with PTSD. Tom entertained her curiosity about his business but offered limited details about his more personal life. Overall, they seemed pleased with themselves. I’d been bored to death listening to them scrutinize each other.

When we were done eating, Jen and I stepped up from our chairs and gathered the dirty dishes. Tom tried to assist, but Jen ordered him to stop and sent him to the living area.

In the kitchen, amidst putting the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaning the counters, Jen grabbed me by the elbow and guided me to the side. I interrupted her before she could scold me. “Jen, I know what you’re going to say.”

“And what’s that?”

“I need to be careful.”

“The military? You know what happened with your dad. I know this guy seems like his head is on straight, but you know the kind of turbulent waters running underneath the calm current on the surface.”

“Jen, I can handle this.”

“Can you?”

“Just say what’s really on your mind.”

“I’m worried you’re moving too fast.”

“I’m not a child, Jen. I don’t need a lecture on sex and dating.”

“Sex can complicate things. I’m just telling you to take it slow.”

She meant well, I knew that. I also knew I didn’t want to screw things up with Tom. Sex could muddy things up and I could already see myself plummeting into a complete sexual relationship with this man.

This time, I needed to do things right.

She must have noticed my inner struggle and reached for my hand, offering some reassurance. “Hey, listen, all that aside, I like him. He really does seem nice. And the way he looks at you…every girl deserves a man that worships the ground she walks on.”

The tension in my body dissipated and my lips stretched into a wide grin. “You really think he’s nice?”

She nodded. “I’m happy for you, hon.” She grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me out of the kitchen and toward the living room. “Go keep him company while I finish up in here.”

Tom stood over by the large windows facing Central Park, hands in his pockets, his broody eyes probably lost in thought.

“Hey,” I said, startling him from behind.

He stiffened then pivoted around, flashing me his gorgeous smile. “Oh, hey back.”

I tucked loose strands of hair behind my ears. “So…that was interesting.”

He laughed. “Interrogations don’t frighten me.”

“No? Then what does, mister tough guy?”

He reached over and gently grabbed my chin. “You.”

I knew he was teasing, but his gaze was unmoving and serious.

“Is that so?”

Inhaling deep, he said, “I have to leave for L.A. tomorrow night.”

“Oh…again?” The thought of him leaving caused an unexpected chill in my chest, and as if he’d sensed the coldness, he cupped my cheek.

“I don’t want to go,” he said. “But the constant travel is part of running my company.”

The electricity between us was palpable, crackling around us, the warmth from his hand reaching every sensory nerve on my body. “Take the late-night flight again. You can sleep and not think about flying.”

He chuckled nervously, holding my face with both hands, pinning our eyes to each other. “Silly girl. You know that’s not why I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you.”

Why does he have to say things that hold promise and make my heart ache with longing for more of this—more of him?

Keys and purse in her hands, Jen called from the kitchen. “Can you believe I forgot dessert? Gonna run to the store really quick. You kids behave, okay?” Then she rushed out the door.

Tom tucked his hands in his pants while he rocked back and forth on his heels. “She’s a good friend, Sara.”

My eyes rolled to the back of my head. “I know…”

“Come with me to California,” he blurted out of nowhere.

I blinked. “Wait…what?”

“I have some things to take care of in L.A., but I have a small place in Santa Monica. We can stay there for the rest of the week.”

In my mind, my bags were packed at my feet and I was ready to follow him to the ends of the world if he asked me to. But another part of me shuddered at the thought of traveling across the country to stay with a man I’d known for only a few days. “Oh wow. You’re asking me to come stay with you in Santa Monica? I mean, I would love to, but don’t you think we might be moving too fast?”

Cupping his neck with his large palm, he turned from me and paced. “Christ. Sara, since I met you I’ve been stuck in the middle of an avalanche. It certainly is happening too quickly, but don’t you want to figure out what’s really happening between us?” He brushed his nervous hands through his hair so many times, the strands stood up in all different directions.

I stared at him blankly.

“Say something, Sara.”

“I…don’t know. I mean, yes, I want to figure out if this is all lust or something more, but I don’t know. I have a job, I can’t just take off on a whim.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m coming off strong again, demanding you give me your time. How about you think about it, yeah? You don’t have to give me an answer right now.”

“Thank you. I will definitely think about it.”

After dessert, Tom bid me good night and I promised to give him an answer by morning. Though, deep down I already knew what I was going to say. After what happened with Estella, a short getaway was probably exactly what I needed.