Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“You’re a work of art.”
“The same could be said of you,” she murmurs, her tone filled with happiness.
My eyes meet hers, and seeing the same look as when I kissed her on her couch – as if I performed some kind of miracle – I pull her into a hug and bury my face in her hair.
I won’t take no for an answer. She will be mine.
No.
She is mine.
I’ll give her the time she needs to get used to the idea of us, but after tonight, I’m never letting her go.
Chapter 18
Eden
Standing with the mop in my hand, I read the text Dario sent me a minute ago.
Can you take time off work to accompany me to the opening night?
I don’t have anything fancy enough to wear to a ballet show, and people will recognize me.
Which means I have to tell Dario that I’m a janitor. After the amazing Sunday night we spent together, I don’t think he’ll fire me or break things off.
And I can scrounge up a few dollars to get a dress at a thrift store.
The corner of my mouth lifts as I type out a reply.
I’d love to. Can we meet up tomorrow morning? I need to tell you something.
I see he reads my message, then it shows he’s typing.
Dario: 9 am at Half n Half?
Eden: Okay.
Suddenly, someone grabs hold of my shoulder and yanks me until I turn around.
“Where is it?” one of the ballerinas barks in my face.
“Where’s what?”
“Don’t play dumb. Where’s my ring?”
The hell?
“Vivian, what’s going on here,” Mrs. Stafford asks as she comes down the hallway.
There’s a sinking sensation in my stomach when I realize Vivian thinks I took her ring.
“The janitor stole my wedding ring,” Vivian says, her voice trembling as she tries to fight back the tears.
“Let’s go to my office,” Mrs. Stafford orders. “The middle of the hallway is not the place for this discussion.”
“But–” I start to argue, but Mrs. Stafford silences me with a stern look.
With a sigh, I place the mop back in my cart before I follow the women to the office. By the time Mrs. Stafford takes as seat behind her desk, anger is bubbling in my chest.
“I didn’t take anything,” I say, my voice tense.
“Pheobe said she saw the janitor in our dressing rooms during rehearsal,” Vivian cries, visibly getting more and more upset with every passing second. “I left my wedding ring on the counter in my section.”
Mrs. Stafford turns her attention to me, then asks, “Did you take it by accident? If you return the ring, we’ll forget the whole unpleasant incident.”
My temper flares, but I suck in a breath of air so I don’t lose my cool. “I didn’t take her ring.”
Mrs. Stafford rises to her feet and comes to stand in front of me. The next moment, she shoves her hand into my apron’s pocket and starts to search me.
I’m so offended my lips part with a gasp, and before I can stop myself, I smack her hand away from me. “Don’t touch me!”
“See!” Vivian yells. “She’s hiding something, or she would be fine with being searched.”
“I didn’t take your goddamn ring,” I shout back at her.
Vivian’s palm connects with my cheek, and I stagger from the shock of being slapped.
Oh, no, she didn’t.
Just as I’m about to lunge at the ballerina so I can pull every last strand out of her neat bun, Dario’s voice lashes through the air.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
“She stole my wedding ring,” Vivian sobs before breaking down in a fit of tears.
Jesus, now’s a good time to beam me up.
With my hand covering my stinging cheek, I stand frozen on the spot.
“I’m so sorry you had to walk in on such an unpleasant situation,” Mrs. Stafford apologizes to Dario.
I feel him move closer to me and pinch my eyes shut.
God. God. God.
“Are you okay?” I hear him ask, and it makes my throat tighten with unshed tears because I’m still angry as hell, and now I’m embarrassed as well. I wish the ground would open beneath my feet.
This is not how I wanted him to find out.
Spinning around, I try to make a quick escape out of the office, which has Vivian screeching, “Stop her. She’s trying to run away.”
In the doorway, I bump into another ballerina and almost land on my ass as I fall against the doorjamb.
“Sorry,” the ballerina says in a soft, sweet voice. “I just came to say I found the ring. It was in the restroom on the counter by the sinks.”
I begin to slip past her, giving her a shaky smile, but I’m grabbed by my arm by Dario.
“Give me the ring, Izzy,” he orders. When she places it in his palm, he says, “Go back to rehearsal.”
I’m pulled into the office again, and feeling like I might burst out in tears like Vivian did, I clench my jaw tightly because I’m not some fragile ballerina.