Page 50 of Stuck With the Best Man

The only time I ever feel truly beautiful is when I’m on stage. It has nothing to do with the makeup, glitter, and tulle. It’s about the wild pounding of my heart, the heat of the stage lights, and the knowledge that I am strong and powerful.

So, I don’t know what to say to that.

In the end, I don’t say anything at all. I just reach for a packet of baked snack crackers and turn my attention back to the television. Beyond the windows, Mother Nature carries on punishing the world with rain and wind.

“I hate the way this movie ends,” I muse a little while later.

“Do you?”

“She was good at her job, but all her friends shamed her for it. She shouldn’t have quit. She also definitely shouldn’t have gotten back together with that guy.”

When I glance at Ben, he’s smirking. “I agree a little bit.”

“Only a little bit?”

“The guy was a loser. Both of them, actually,” he says. “But I kind of like that she quit the fashion magazine and went back to her roots. That’s who she truly is inside.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”“Then again, I’m not really the ideal person to be forming an opinion about anyone’s career choices. I barely have a career.”

I frown at him, but again, I don’t know what to say. It feels weird to comfort him, considering the only reason he has his current position is because of nepotism. Still, if I put my sour feelings aside, I have to admit that he does have a promising vision for the company.

“You’ll do fine,” I finally tell him. “You could affect real positive change if you wanted to.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for example, even though ballet is a female-dominated sport, positions of power in the companies are almost always occupied by old white men.”

Ben snorts. “That’s true. Most of the art world is like that.”

“Most of the world in general is like that.”

“Good point.”

“I’m not saying you should stage a coup,” I clarify, not wanting to make it seem like I’m trying to manipulate a member of the board. “But I think the majority of the dancers would be happy to see some shifts toward gender equality in the upper rungs.”

“That’s a really good suggestion, Ruby. Thank you.”

I shrug.

Both of us stare at the television screen again, yet I have a feeling that we’re not really watching the movie anymore. I can’t stop thinking about the effortless allure of his damp, wavy hair and casual attire, or the fact that I already know what it’s like to kiss him and can remember too clearly how wonderful it was.

Ben Hawthorne is not the man for you, I remind myself sternly.

He clears his throat. “Hey, do you—”

Before he can finish his sentence, the lights flicker. Both of us freeze, glancing up at the recessed lighting overhead. The wind groans as it pounds against the windows.

“Oh, no,” I whisper.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he murmurs. Yet, even as he speaks, they flicker again.

Then, in one fell swoop, the room plunges into darkness.

The power has gone out.

Chapter Sixteen: Ben

Forwhatfeelslikea full minute, Ruby and I sit in the dark silence. The hum of the air conditioner has faded and the television screen is utterly blank. There is nothing but the sound of our breathing and the vague warmth of her presence on the other side of the bed.

---