Page 239 of Enemies

He reaches for my hand, threads his fingers through mine. “Where would you like to work?”

Emotions collide in my chest. “I was working on some options back in the US.” I feel him turn toward me. “I don’t want to say it in case it doesn’t work out. But the past couple of months, all I could think about is playing La Mer.”

“You won’t play La Mer.” There’s a finality to his words that would make me argue, but it’s moot anyway.

“It might belong to Mischa, but it has nothing to do with him. It existed before him, and it will exist after.” I shake my head. “I was still hoping he’d rethink it.”

But when he hears I played Debajo, there’s no way he will. He’ll find out I’m with Harrison—assuming he doesn’t know already…

“I’m sorry.”

I cock my head. “You’re not.”

“I am because you want it, and I want you to have everything you want.”

Damn, it sounds as if he means it. My fingers curl around his.

“After your final gig in Ibiza—at Bliss or somewhere else—I’ll take you somewhere scenic, and we’ll laugh about this. But until then… dance with me.”

He offers a hand as music starts from somewhere in the distance. Not club music, but strings.

“Ditch the jacket.”

He obliges with a boyish grin, tossing it over the chair before pulling me close.

My lips brush his shirt.

“Since the first time I held you at La Mer, nothing has ever felt the same,” he confesses. “When I set foot inside the warehouse in LA, I didn’t picture you on stage. It was you dancing with me.”

“My dancing is mostly hips. You probably know how to ballroom dance.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Only the basics. Waltz, foxtrot, rumba…”

“Of course you do,” I murmur, laughing. “I tried to take a class at school. I could barely shuffle. But I’m done apologizing for it,” I declare.

That’s the biggest difference in the last year. No more pretending to be something I’m not.

Harrison brushes his lips across my temple, surprising me. “Good. Because I’d rather shuffle with you for the rest of my life than waltz with anyone else.”

19

RAE

Bliss is full, but I’m on edge, scanning the crowd as I mix.

I’m still thinking of my date with Harrison last night. Dinner was a dream. We went back to his villa and stayed up on the patio until the early hours of the morning, where he laid a blanket down on the grass and we talked and touched under the stars.

It’s not as if everything is resolved between us, but he certainly wants to try. And he seems like a changed man.

Now, I’m back to the reality of playing the club where a woman died when it could have been prevented.

Which means there’s something I need to do.

As I finish, I catch sight of the owner.

After a few selfies, I wave off the crowd of fans and cut straight for the bar. The bartender pours me a drink, and the owner nods at me. I lift my glass to him, taking a long drink. “A woman died outside. A customer from last week.”

His eyes widen. “I don’t know anything about that.”

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