Page 8 of Worth the Trouble

But where we look opposite in appearance, I sometimes wonder if we’re the same person inside. Marble statues polished to perfection. Something she willed into existence through years of conditioning and influence.

Once Mom is gone, I make my way to the dressing room to shower and change. I tie my wet hair in a knot on the top of my head and try to hurry.

If I hang around too long, the rest of the performers will try to convince me to join them for dinner. And although my stomach hurts from hunger, the last thing I should be doing is pissing Mom off by consuming extra calories.

“Tomorrow, darling.” Rico grabs my hand as I slip past and plants a kiss on the back of it.

I force a smile and nod, ready to be dragged into his conversation, but he’s already distracted by one of our backup dancers and is draping himself around her. So I make my way outside.

I’m relieved to be met with the cool night air. The days have been blistering hot in the middle of summer, and something about the heat wave makes it hard to breathe.

I start toward my car and appreciate the quiet of the city this late at night. The bustle of the streets when I arrived at midday has calmed, and only a few people mingle on the sidewalk. Even though the dance studio is downtown and in a busy area, in this moment it’s calm.

I’m accustomed to being surrounded by people, but it doesn’t mean I prefer it. Hence why I was drawn to renting Eloise Kane’s house in the first place. In the middle of nowhere with no one crowding me.

My phone pings, and I pull it out of my purse, frowning when I see the name on the screen.

Milano:I’ll drop off a new set of meals tomorrow.

Mom worked fast apparently. My stomach growls, and I can’t remember the last time I had a meal that wasn’t planned, weighed, and carefully calculated. I bury the thought and type back.

Lili:Thanks :)

At least in a text, I can use emojis in place of real expressions. Through the screen, it’s easy to pretend I’m still pleasant and happy.

Tucking my phone back in my purse, I look up just in time to run into a solid wall of muscle.

“Woah there.” A deep laugh cuts through the dark night.

I blink, as strong fingers grip my arms and steady me. The man standing in front of me grins and any words I have get stuck in my throat because his smile is so raw and uninhibited that it catches me off guard.

He should look like danger with his tattoos peeking out of every ridge of his clothing. But the carefree grin that stretches his cheeks draws light all the way up to his dark eyes, and I can’t deny the genuine freedom in his smile.

Then there’s his stare, fixed on me and magnetic. I can’t help but feel the sands of time slowing the longer I stare into his eyes.

Or maybe it’s a beat ticking. A pendulum. A dance.

One, two, three, four.

Five, six, seven, eight.

I hear it. Isenseit in him.

One, two, three, four.

Five, six, seven, eight.

“You alright, sweetheart?” The stranger quirks an eyebrow and looks me over once more. “Dangerous time of night to be walking around distracted.”

3

Lili

I’mnostrangertolooking confident men straight in the eyes and holding my ground. In the dance world, I’ve been put on display for some of the most powerful men around the globe.

Billionaires, presidents, and princes.

I’ve been paraded around, fawned over, questioned. I’ve learned how to stare men in the eye while balancing delicacy and confidence. I know how to stand in a room with them and be unaffected.

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