Page 60 of When Hearts Ignite

“Y-You’re mistaken, sir.” She stares at me like I’m a stranger. Her face is devoid of emotion. Cold. Numb. Indifferent.

But those eyes…I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

She turns back to Jack and murmurs, “I’m fine. Just some bad news at home. Sorry for the interruption. Please enjoy your day.”

As abruptly as she appears, she whirls around and darts back inside, her long, wavy hair flying behind her.

The door closes behind her with a resounding bang.

My heart threatens to escape from my chest to chase after the one person who resurrected it, and I fight the urge to rub the soreness that’s spreading like wildfire.

It can’t be. It has to be her.

My breathing comes out in erratic bursts, my mind a series of still framed images of the vixen from a moment ago as the hint of jasmine finally travels to my nose.

“Do you know her, Steven? From her outfit, I think she’s one of the girls working on the Rose floors.”

Jack’s question is muffled, like I’m underwater, seconds away from reaching the surface, from relieving the burning in my lungs when I take my first breath of much needed oxygen.

The Rose floors? What?

I shake my head, not understanding anything that just transpired in the last few minutes, which could very well be a few hours for all I care, as the concept of time no longer registers, the reality of my world somehow shifted without me having a hand in it.

It can’t be. It has to be her. I saw the brief flash of recognition in her eyes. Those violet eyes. Those beautiful, mesmerizing, penetrating eyes.

My hands feel around the air, latching onto the cool metal of my chair before I sit down. My mind finally notices the stilted silence, and I look up, finding Jack staring at me, his brows furrowed in concern. He just asked me a question.

“I must be mistaken. Sorry about that.” I twist my lips into a smile and force out a few chuckles, which don’t even sound convincing to my ears. “Yes, I must be wrong.”

Clutching my chair in a death grip, I compel my muscles to relax and my lungs to expel the air I can’t seem to empty as my body isn’t functioning properly, the electrical wiring short-circuited from the cyclone that appeared out of nowhere.

Letting go of the chair, my hand grasps the cup on the table and raises it in a toast. I can feel the blood slowly returning to my face and I smirk, hoping it will put the others at ease. “Cheers to you, Jack, for your well-deserved promotion. I can’t wait to see what’s next in store for you and to have you be at my beck and call when I visit.”

It seems to have worked, as everyone laughs, and Jack says something in return.

But my mind has already drifted back to the goddess with violet eyes, my missing flame on a moonless night.

As abruptly as she vanished nine months ago, she has reappeared in my life, as if a higher power has finally granted me another chance, another wish upon a shining star.

And this time, I’m not letting go.

Millie

Miss you, Grace. We really need to hang out again soon. You know, I asked my brother, and he has an open clerk position in the accounting department at his company if you want it. I know you won’t take money from us, but it’s a stable job even if the starting salary is not very high. If you don’t want to dance anymore and want to pay off your loan with the Kents sooner, I can ask him to throw in a signing bonus.

Belle

I’ve asked her the same too, Millie. Our Grace is stubborn and is determined to do this on her own. Whatever you decide, know that we love you and support you. You’re wonderful, beautiful, and smart. But know that it’s not a weakness to ask and receive help.

My eyes prickle as I reread the text messages from my friends. I told them I was a dancer at a club within The Orchid but never told them I was at the burlesque club to be exact. I don’t want them to know how I’m flaunting my body as my job now. A sticky shame slithers inside me, even though I know I shouldn’t feel this way. I’m making an honest living and not crossing any moral boundaries I set for myself.

When I lay on my bed at night, reflecting on why I feel this way, I realize it’s not about the job itself. The hardest part is getting over everything I lost and doing the one thing I swore to myself I’d never do—the future I had imagined since I was old enough to learn that education is my way out of living barely above the poverty line, the way I was going to work hard, graduate from college, secure a financially stable job and be set for the future. But instead, I’m following in my mom’s footsteps. This is the cause of the heartburn in my chest.

It feels as if my dreams are gone like a poof of smoke because a shitty man duped Mom into signing a loan agreement with a loan shark. The only silver lining was I was able to graduate from college, and I now hold a diploma I won’t be able to use until later.

I’ve had offers from the girls to work at their companies, to lend me money or gift it as bonuses, but I don’t want to go from being indebted to one man, Elias Kent, to being indebted to other people, including Adrian Scott. I’ve seen how money changes relationships, and I couldn’t bear it if what I have with the girls changes flavor.

It’s not worth the risk.

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