Page 81 of Surrender
Because when someone takes something that means a lot to you, you don’t have to lie down and take it. Sometimes, you have to dream a little bigger.
And after seeing my house in pieces the other night, that was what I was going to have to do to make sure that Parker didn’t win.
I was going to have to dream bigger.
A cottage in the English countryside and a dog called Archibald kind of bigger.
“All right, ladies, it’s been fun,” Roxie said, wiggling her fingers at Lucy and me. “But I have a feeling Match is here towrangle me into the van so the rest of the girls can get home.”
“Callan is also waiting at the door for this drunk bum,” Nate confirmed, nodding to Lucy, whose eyes lit up before she scrambled out as well.
“Same time next week?” Lucy said enthusiastically as she got to her feet.
Match chuckled as he tried to move Roxie and Lucy both toward the door.
Nate just rolled his eyes. “Fuck me.”
“I’m in,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him, and Roxie’s face brightened too.
“I would love that,” she answered with a wave. “See you next week!”
The two girls practically skipped toward the exit.
“The prospects are waiting outside for you when you’re done in here,” Match added quickly, patting Nate on the back before jogging to keep up with them, because they were both a little wobbly, and ER trips weren’t all that fun at two in the morning.
Nate held out his hand, and I took it, letting him help me out of the booth, though I’d had the least amount to drink. A couple of cocktails and I was done. I’d never been a big drinker because I lived a life that revolved around early morning rehearsals and late-night shows.
So once I felt the warm buzz, I tended to stop.
“You and me are locking up, Tiny Dancer.”
Nate took my hand as we walked through the building. He gave me a tour of all the spaces as he checked everything was locked up and turned off, including a running commentary of exactly how Maison Vesey was run downstairs, compared to what was going on upstairs.
“You know, I’d say I was surprised, but I’m not,” I mused as we headed back to the bar. A job that had meant to take a few minutes had taken half an hour with all the detours and storiesI’d demanded to hear. “The ballet world is full of men who like to… make offers they think we can’t refuse.”
He looked down at me with a frown. “Wait. You mean you’ve had guys ask—”
“To pay for my time?” I interrupted with a soft laugh. “Oh, yeah. On more than one occasion. The company I worked for actually attempted to hold an auction to raise money. Like, a date with a ballerina. There was one girl whose date paid fifty thousand dollars, and we all thought it was because he just loved the ballet.”
“Fucking hell,” Nate groaned, rolling his eyes. “He tried to fuck her.”
I nodded. “Yeah. He thought he was paying for sex.”
I fought a smile because at the time we were all horrified, but now it was just a ridiculous miscommunication that had to be written into the fine print.
When we finally made it back to the bar, I sat on a barstool at one side, watching while Nate pulled a book from beneath the register. He ticked through the list of jobs, making sure we hadn’t missed anything before slipping it under again.
“All right, that’s us done.” His voice was lower now, that lazy drawl he got when he was tired.
I leaned on the bar, propping my chin in my hands. “I hope you noted that I helped. Maybe I’ll get a gold star or something,” I teased.
Nate rounded the bar and stopped in front of me, crowding my space enough to make my heart skip. He reached out, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering at the curve of my jaw.
“I’ve got a few things I could give you,” he said, his voice real low.
Heat instantly began to build in my stomach, and I tilted my head, a quirk on my lips. “Nathaniel Brooks, do you think I’mthat easy?”
“No,” he murmured, inching a little closer. “But I’m hoping you’re a little drunk and feeling kind of reckless.”
