Page 73 of Rome: The Ballerina

Fists collided with my door, beckoning for my attention. I lowered the water bottle and placed it back on the shelf.

Knock.

Knock.

Koen and August were insufferable. Their presence was soothing and suffocating at once.

“Yes?” I pulled the door open.

“Hey, girl. Still down for dinner? I could use something savory. My stomach is touching my back. Cecilia was trying to kill us today. I’m convinced.”

Aliza’s big brown eyes were wide with joy. How she’d gotten out of her leotard and into her clothes so swiftly was baffling. However, her makeup was still intact as usual. Not even six hours on Cecilia’s clock had smeared the perfection painted on her skin.

Denial was at the tip of my tongue. I’d been taught to be clear and leave no confusion. Sitting down for dinner with Aliza could only go one way and that wasn’t in her favor. Still, the desire to clear the air rested on my heart.

“So, dinner? Drinks? A little girl chat?” She chuckled.

It had been nine days since Saint stepped into my house and assured me he deserved the parts of my heart reserved for him. Laying down every night with him on my mind was becoming the most dreadful part of my day.

It had been fourteen days since Aliza had made it clear that she was interested in a friendship with me. I’d avoided her as much as I could after learning the man I had seen countless times in my dreams was the man she was set to marry. But, she had a way about her. Once she set her mind to something, there was no changing it.

“Yes,” I agreed. “I suppose I could spare a half hour.”

I was purposely setting a boundary, making sure Aliza understood there was a cap on our time together.

“A half hour? Boring!”

An explanation was not in my plans. I stared back at Aliza, waiting for her to accept the terms or continue with her night.

“Okay. I guess we could both use the rest and a good soak. My feet are killing me.”

“Share the location. Secure the table. And, I’ll be there.”

“You want to ride together?”

As the question left her red lips, Koen and August appeared.

“No.”

I tipped my head toward my crew.

“I doubt these two will allow me out of their presence.”

Nodding, she agreed, “Yup. Yup. Got it. Andretti’s. Right off the highway. I’m heading there now to get us a table and order our first round of drinks.”

She took off down the hallway.

“Aliza,” I called after her.

“Yes?”

“I don’t drink while preparing for a performance.”

My words stopped her in her tracks. She turned on her heels, tilted her head, and peered down the hallway at me.

“Oh, honey. Teach me your ways.”

“See you in a bit.”

---