Page 60 of King of Temptation

“Yesterday.” Charlotte’s brow scrunches. “Are you all right?”

“I’m just my usual hot mess,” I whisper, taking a deep gulp of the water glass in front of me.

“You’re not a hot mess at all,” Charlotte shakes her head. “You’re one of the steadiest people I know."

"Really? Because I failed a class, didn’t graduate, I?—”

Charlotte reaches for my hand. “Trying to reach for things, to stretch, means that sometimes you fall. You’re a dancer, you know that. It doesn’t make you a mess, it makes you strong and brave.”

My shoulders sink in relief. “Thanks, Charlotte. I needed to hear that.”

She wraps her hand about mine. “Is something going on?”

I told Leo I wouldn’t tell her but I’m not sure I can hold it in. Maybe I need her perspective. “Yes.”

“Has Leo hurt you? He can be a real loose cannon.”

“No, of course not. If anything, he’s more gentle and considerate than any guy…” And that makes me pause.

“Leo?” Charlotte asks, her brows drawn together in disbelief.

I think of him holding my hand this morning as the ultrasound tech pointed out the beating heart of the baby on the screen.

He has been nothing but helpful all while taking care of me. Part of why I shut down last night was because I just assumed his rejection was coming.

But he didn’t reject me at all. He apologized for his initial reaction, sat next to me that entire appointment, and then he offered to let me hang at his place.

I think I really need to talk to Leo and be honest about a few things and I’ll try not to let my fears get in the way of really listening to what he has to say.

I think for the first time in a long time, I actually have a bit of real hope.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Kim

The rest of the day is quiet, I even nap for a few hours before I head into work. There are no rehearsals on Saturdays, so I don’t go in until after six.

Leo isn’t there yet, I think he’s taking care of stuff at other clubs. At least I’m hoping because I half expected him to offer me a ride and he didn’t…

Which I don’t mind. I like walking. Clears the head. And I’m still an independent woman, but changes in his behavior make me nervous and that little bit of hope I’d been feeling deflates like a popped balloon.

But I paste on a smile and head into the club, quietly slipping into the locker room.

“Hey,” Samantha calls with a friendly wave.

“Hey.” I smile as I turn to her, glad for a friendly face.

“Do you have a couple minutes to show me a few moves?”

My smile grows. “Of course.” Teaching is just what I need to push away my worries. We head to a quiet back room where I spend some time helping her with a few new moves and some smoother transitions, which dancers frequently overlook, but when it comes to tips, I’m convinced they help keep the audience’s attention.

It’s a great way to warm up and as much as I helped Samantha, I feel better too. More grounded.

I return to my locker and change from my warm-up leotard into my leather uniform. Slipping into my three-inch heels, I sit at my vanity to paint on my make up. Just like any performance, it’s not normal everyday makeup, but bold dark slashes of color to add drama.

I’m adding exaggerated wings about my eyes and a striking lipstick. My hair is in my usual straight ponytail that I only wear when I dance.

I have no idea how long I’ll be able to stay thin enough to perform, but I feel the pressure to make money while I can. I’m going to crush it tonight.

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