Chapter 26

Twenty-Six

SARA

We spentthe rest of the day making love, eating naked in bed, and were pretty much on rinse and repeat until nightfall, though Tom did disappear into his office for a few hours. He apologized for having to work, but I knew it had to do with whatever trouble Jake was in. I didn’t bother asking him again about what was going on with his friend. In truth, it wasn’t any of my business. Though, it did rattle me a little to see Tom so upset.

Sunday morning came too fast, and I didn’t want to roll out of bed. As I stretched, I realized that Tom had once again gotten up before me. I found him in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. The French doors to the beach were wide open, and I plopped on his leather couch wearing jean shorts and a white tank top, watching the waves crash, enjoying the warm ocean breeze as it gently swirled through the living room.

As Tom continued preparing breakfast, my phone pinged with an incoming text. I’d left it on top of the kitchen counter since who knew how long and I hadn’t even bothered to check it for notifications. I’d been completely lost in Tom world for two days and forgotten the rest of the world existed. I picked it up from the counter and my heart sank when I read the text.

“Shit.”

“What’s the matter?” Tom asked as he walked out to the deck with a stack of pancakes.

“It’s Rebecca. Apparently, she’s been trying to reach me since yesterday, but I guess I never heard my phone ring. Something happened at the studio. She’s freaking out and Alexei seems to be pissed off about God only knows what.”

I followed after him and sat down on the outside table. Tom sat down across from me and made us both a plate. “That asshole is still causing issues?”

As I took a mouthful of my pancake, my brows pinched. “When is he not?”

“You sure nothing else is bothering you?”

There was. I didn’t like how easily I had disregarded everyone back home. As much as I wished I could get lost in this fairytale book, real life existed. I never wanted to lose sight of that.

“This was simply a reminder that life doesn’t stop just because you take a detour.”

“Am I the detour?”

“Maybe,” I groaned.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“No. I just need to remember it’s not always like this. Vacations in Santa Monica, spending full days in bed, eating like my triglycerides aren’t gonna kill me one day.” I took another bite of my pancake and stuffed my face.

He laughed, one of those big and guttural laughs that can make your stomach cramp. It was so infectious, it momentarily made me forget why I was so mad.

Once the laughter stopped, he walked over to me and knelt down, taking my chin in his fingers. “Baby, yes, it can. I can give you the world, minus the high triglycerides.”

I smiled and cupped his cheeks in my palms. “Can you stop being so perfect for once?”

He leaned in and kissed me. “I just want you to be happy,” he whispered, his breath hot and heavy on my lips.

“I am happy,” I told him, brushing my mouth against his and savoring the sweetness of his maple-syrup soaked breath. “You make the best pancakes.”

With a toothy grin, he kissed me once more then he went back to his chair. “So, what does the gorgon want?”

“Gorgon?” I choked on my OJ as I burst into a giggle. “Oh, that’s a good one.”

“Maybe you should call her back and get it over with.”

I sighed. “I guess it will be worse on Monday if I don’t.” I grabbed my phone off the table and dialed.

She let it ring several times before picking up. “Well, look who remembered she has a job.”

I sat back on my chair and sucked in a deep breath. “Sorry I missed your calls, Rebecca.”

“You know, Sara, you have some fucking nerve. I’ve been trying to call you since Friday night. Have you any idea what’s happened?”

“No. I’m in California, remember? I’m coming back tomorrow.”

“Shit’s hitting the fan.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? Your fucking choices that’s what. We lost four more dancers on Friday, Sara. Four. Alexei is fuming, and he’s threatening to quit. Have you any idea what’s at stake? The shows are sold out. And we have four weeks to find replacements. Four fucking weeks to teach four new people the routine.”

“Rebecca, calm down.”

“Don’t you tell me to calm down. You picked these people. This is all your fault.”

“I didn’t pick them, Alexei did.”

“He gave you a very strict list and you gave him garbage.”

“All the dancers who auditioned were well qualified. He’s the problem, not me. No one is ever good enough. Are you sure they left or did he fire them?”

“Who the fuck cares? Get your ass back to New York and find me four new dancers, Sara. And not the shit you dragged in here last time, or I swear you’ll be looking for a new job.” She hung up on me.

“Bitch!”

“What’s going on?” Tom asked.

I jumped off my chair. “What’s going on is I work for idiots, that’s what. Fucking Alexei managed to fire four more dancers in a matter of days. I mean, what does he think, that I freaking grow dancers on a tree or something? Yeah, there are tons of starving dancers out there dying to land the next gig, but no one meets his criteria. No one. Ugh, I’m so pissed I could rip his head off.”

“Sara, just sit back down. What happened?”

“Basically, he needed dancers. I couldn’t find anyone to audition because no one met the criteria. He wanted years and years of experience; only people who’d gone to the most reputable dance schools and those who had worked not only in the U.S. but who had experience in overseas productions. I mean, those people don’t want to come to work for Alexei. Those dancers already have jobs. They are probably choreographers themselves or running their own dance companies. He may be a master at his craft, but he is a horrible person.

“The point is, Rebecca came into my office a week ago and basically said I needed to bring in new people or get fired. I scanned through tons of applications and portfolios. I looked at video after video entry and selected who I thought would be great. He chose four dancers, but apparently, they weren’t good enough because he got rid of them on Friday. Now they are both demanding I come up with four new people who can learn the routine in less than four weeks. That’s impossible. Literally impossible.”

“Quit.”

“Quit? That’s your solution?” I said, not able to hide my disappointment. “In case you haven’t noticed, not all of us are billionaires. And don’t even bring up the whole you’ll give me some job at your company or take care of me shit. We are together, but nowhere near that stage yet. I simply can’t quit. Not again.”

“What do you mean again? When did you quit before?”

This was not the time or place to get into this conversation. “It’s a ... long story. Maybe another day?”

“Sara, I’ve shown you my skeletons. You know more about me than I know about you. And I’m okay with that, there’s no rush to fill a lifetime into a couple of days. I’m just worried about you. This job is really stressing you out. Especially this fucking guy, who I’m ready to punch in the face. I’m just trying to see how I can help.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

It was there, the aching need to tell him what was raking through me; the words sitting at the tip of my tongue. As I looked back at him, tears ran down my face. For a long moment, he said nothing, he just walked over and waited until I was ready to talk. I didn’t need to tell him anything. It was like he had a tapped line into my soul and he understood something lay hidden, a tormenting secret I could not dig up, not here, not yet. He leaned in and kissed me. “I’m sorry. When it’s time, I’ll be here to listen.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you…it’s just so hard for me to talk about it. I just need a little time, that’s all.”

“Take all the time you need, baby.”

We cleaned up after breakfast and Tom spent a big portion of the afternoon in his study again, talking to people on the phone and managing business on his computer. He apologized for leaving me alone, but I didn’t mind too much. Sure, it was great spending so much time together, but a little me time didn’t hurt. I laid on the beach for a while, even took a dip in the ocean.

Though he was flying be back home on a private charter again, I was leaving on a red-eye flight that night. I still needed to get to the airport two hours early. So around five, I picked up my beach towel and went inside to shower and pack my things. When I came out of the bathroom, towel drying my hair, the sounds of a familiar voice coming from Tom’s study startled me. Too nosy for my own good, I pried my door open and listened.

“Who’re those men in the car outside?” Tom asked, the tone in his voice harsh.

“Carlo’s guys,” Jake replied.