Page 52 of Succeeding Love

“I do dance,” she whispered.

“Dance? Wow! What kind of dance?”

“Jazz mostly.” She leaned on her mom’s shoulder, but looked less hesitant about me now.

“I took a ballet class once,” I confessed with a sheepish grin.

“You did not,” Lynn huffed, a wide smile spreading on her adorable face.

“Ballet?” Nick scoffed, still stealing glances at my hand locked with Lynn’s. “How masculine.”

I shrugged, feeling unashamed. “My football coach in high school had all his receivers take the class.”

“You know, I heard that somewhere,” Sherry exclaimed. “I read that most NFL players include ballet in their training.”

“I did ballet,” Jessie said enthusiastically. “Mom signed me up for ballet when I was really little, and then I moved to jazz and hip-hop when my friends did.”

“She’s on a competitive team,” Lynn bragged with pride written all over her. “She’s going to Disneyland this summer to perform after a competition in Anaheim. She’s very excited about the trip.”

“Wow. That sounds like fun. I love the dole whip at Disneyland.”

“I do too! Mama and I had a competition to see who could eat it the fastest last time, and we both got terrible brain freezes. Pres ended up taking them away from us, so we never got to see who won.”

“Preston’s a little worry wart,” Lynn laughed. “He found some article later about someone that died from a brain freeze.”

“Nuh uh. That can’t be real.”

“It was real,” Jessie giggled, sounding just like her mom. “Every time we got ice cream, he would bring it up and show us on his phone.”

“What a way to go,” I snorted. “Imagine what it said on their tombstone.”

“Cause of death, ice cream,” Lynn giggled with her daughter, and I laughed just watching them.

“Laughing at something so morbid is twisted,” Nick muttered.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. The girls’ laughter died, and I had the sudden urge to punch the dude in the face. Jessie looked guilty now, and Lynn looked annoyed. She just kissed the top of her daughter’s head.

It grew tense again, thanks to the douche bag, but then the players finished their exercises and Lynn’s son started heading our way. He had a hard expression on his face. I hoped it wasn’t because of me.

“Look, it’s Preston!” Jessie said, getting excited and pointing to the field. She stood up and waved wildly, and his face softened. How could it not? His kid sister was as freaking adorable as their mother. “Pres! Surprise! We came!”

“I see that,” he muttered, sending a pissed-off look towards his dad. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad it wasn’t my presence ticking him off. I felt more pressure to meet this boy again than I did at yesterday’s interview. Preston is obviously his mother’s protector now and takes the role seriously. I want him to know I plan on taking the same role, and being just as serious about it too.

“Like my shirt?” Lynn asked, pointing to it with her free hand.

Preston looked at her other hand joined with mine, then the smallest grin appeared, lifting the corners of his lips before his eyes glanced at his dad, then at me.

“I love it,” he smirked. “Looks great on you, mom.”

~

Arlene

“Your call can not be completed. Please hang up and try again.”

I huffed in frustration, clicking off my phone and throwing it to the couch.

It’s been almost a week. An entire five days have passed since Nick left, and he still hasn’t called to apologize, or even to see how I have been. I thought this was a silly little fight that would pass once he got bored with staying in a hotel, but then I got notified by my doorman when I got home yesterday that Nick had come by with movers to collect the last of his things.

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