Page 70 of Off Balance

"You are angry with me."

"Yes!" I yell. "Yes, I'm angry with you. You've acted reprehensibly. You're doing shady stuff simply because you can get away with it, treating people poorly, treatingmepoorly."

"Come,mon cheri," he says soothingly, getting to his knees in front of me. I flinch away from him when he tries to hold my hands, so he rests his hands on my thighs instead. It's unlike him to grovel. The strangeness of the gesture has me paying close attention to his expressions and mannerisms, trying to figure out what it is he wants from me. "I am sorry. Truly. Let me make it up to you. Come with me, please."

Forehead creased with confusion, I look down at myself. "I'm not exactly fit to go anywhere, Emile." I'm still soaking wet, and there's blood soaked into the front of my shirt.

Emile makes a face. "Yes. Why don't you use my private bathroom to clean up first? Then we will go for a little walk." He notices my hesitation. "Please, Cameron. Believe me, I do not want things between us to be like this. We have much to talk about. Some fresh air will help us to keep our tempers, yes?"

I nod warily and get up to walk towards the bathroom. My bag is still on the floor where the assholes left it, so I take it with me for a change of clothes. Even though I lock the door behind me, I don't feel comfortable taking a shower. Instead, I settle for cleaning my face and hair in the sink, put on extra deodorant, and quickly change my clothes. When I step out, Emile is waiting for me with a smile on his face, and an envelope in his hand. I steal glances at the envelope all the way out of the building andinto the nearby park. Emile is right. It is a nice day and the walk is refreshing in a way, but I'm incredibly on edge. He hasn't said a word, and I don't want to be the one to break the silence. I feel a bit like I'm walking a tightrope, waiting for the man I saw earlier today to make a reappearance. Hopefully, being in public puts us on safer ground.

Finally, Emile gestures to a bench, guiding me over with a hand on my lower back, then sitting too close. I'd like to put space between us, but I'm terrified to set him off.

"This is for you."

I stare at the envelope for several long moments before taking it from his hand. He gestures excitedly, encouraging me to open it.

Inside, there are two sheets of paper. The first is my application for the World Dance Competition. The second is a handwritten letter, written onDe Pointe Elitestationery.

"I don't understand…"

"That is a personal recommendation letter from me. I have hired a videographer to make sure you have a professional recording of what I have no doubt will be your most spectacular performance tonight."

"You…" I'm actually speechless. "What made you change your mind?"

"You would not be dancing in my company if you were not talented enough. It was my own selfishness and pride that caused me to react so poorly. I…" he looks away, thinking of the right words to say. "I was afraid you would leave me. Seeing that picture of you and Mr. Connor—it made me feel very bad. I am not used to being the jealous one. I don't like it."

Involuntarily, a huff of laughter escapes me. "What about Daphne? All the intimate moments I've walked in on, filling her dressing room with roses? Why are you chasing her if you're worried about me leaving you?"

"I am not interested in that little girl,mon cheri. I was stupidly trying to make you jealous. But instead of spicing things up, it drove you into another man's arms."

"You thought making me jealous would spice things up?"

He purses his lips. "You have not been as enthusiastic as you once were."

"Maybe because I was feeling used."

"How is that possible? Do I not take you to nice places, give you presents? Have I not made you my star?"

I sigh, my thoughts jumbled. It's not that I don't appreciate what he's given me. I recognize I am spoiled in a lot of ways, but how do I explain to a man whose ego is so fragile that he doesn't give me what I need on a physical or emotional level?

My hands trace the edge of the envelope. "I don't like the way you parade me around in front of others," I tell him in a small voice. "It makes me feel cheap and worthless. Exactly how your words made me feel this morning."

"I have apologized for that already! How long will you hold this over my head?"

Swallowing, I nod down at the ground. "You're right. I just need some time and space to process."

Emile stands and holds his arm out to me, like we're two genteel members of society out for a promenade. Keeping myeye roll to myself, I humor him, and we walk back to theDe Pointe Elitebuilding in silence. There's not much time before the company class and warmups for tonight's performance. I barely ate breakfast this morning since I'd rolled out of bed so late, and there's not been a chance to eat lunch during all this drama. Hopefully, I have time for a power bar or at least a protein shake when we get back.

When we make it back, I try to excuse myself to go to my locker, but Emile herds me into the elevator with him. He doesn't try anything inappropriate, but he keeps his arms wrapped around me from behind, pinning me to his chest. I don’t fight it. My bag is in his office. I'll need to get it before I head back to the dressing rooms, anyway.

The elevator comes to a stop, and Emile covers my eyes.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to disguise my irritation. I thought cold Emile was hard to deal with, but clingy Emile is making my skin crawl.

"Shush," he laughs. "Just trust me."

I can't see anything other than some fuzzy streaks of light through his hands over my eyes, but I hear the commotion as he guides me around. When he uncovers my hands, I startle back against his chest as a loud chorus of "Surprise!" is shouted at me. Emile laughs and holds me around the waist, kissing the side of my head and my cheek and neck. The majority of the company is here, clapping and cheering with varying levels of fake enthusiasm. They're standing around a large sheet cake that says, "Congratulations!". It doesn't say congratulations for what, though, and I have no idea what is happening.

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