Page 8 of Twilight Echoes
Lifting his gaze, he smiled. “Come in and close the door.” He sat behind an old wooden desk and leaned back in a big leather chair. He pushed aside some papers. His long hair rested over his shoulders. He had deep, dark, soulful eyes that reached right into her heart. He looked so strong and powerful behind that desk. But there was a sense of sadness that filled the room. “How did things go with Olivia?”
“I believe she liked it less than I did.” Avery set her purse on the floor and eased her butt into the chair opposite the desk. She’d been in this office many times with Brandon. When she’d first joined the company as an understudy, she had the biggest crush on that man. For a mere human, he was spectacular.
But little did she know he was dating the front office manager, Mike. They made for an adorable couple and over the years, she and Brandon became good friends.
The best.
It broke her heart what that man and his family faced.
She’d have to create a healing potion. It wouldn’t cure. They never did. But it did work with the treatments, and it would ease his suffering.
“Now why do you say that?” Darrell asked. A hint of playfulness sparked in his eyes.
“Because she acted like a brat having to eat her vegetables before she got dessert.”
He laughed. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” He tapped his fingers on a stack of papers. “I’m a little late on reading up on everyone and it turns out her daddy has spoiled her rotten. And still does, buying her everything her little heart demands, but he can’t buy her a position as principal dancer.”
“No, he can’t. And she’s really not bad, if she’d put some effort into it. She’s lackadaisical and undisciplined. I doubt she practices at all.”
Darrell waggled his fingers. “As opposed to the person who practices so hard she’s destroying her body? Brandon wrote in his notes that you often come in early and stay late.”
She cocked her head. “I’m fine. I know my limits and yes, I push myself hard. But I’ve had to work my ass off for the respect of everyone on that stage.” She held up her hand. “In some ways, people’s perceptions of me are no different than Olivia. There are critics out there who are constantly waiting in the wings for the little royal witch ballerina to fuck up. Pardon my language.”
“You’re not five. I think you’re allowed to say fuck if you want to.” He waved his hand dismissively as if her choice of foul words didn’t offend him.
Well, it offended most people when she used it.
She cleared her throat. “I work so hard because if I don’t, people will accuse me of what you just said about her and let’s face it. Not only am I a royal, my daddy’s wealthy, and I’m his baby. I could play that card if I wanted.”
“I’m sorry, Avery, but no one who has followed your career could ever accuse you of that.” He rose, stepped around his desk, sat in the chair beside her, and leaned back. “Yeah, sure. Your father is rich. You have the title of Lady. You live a life of privilege. And I get that the interpretation of dance can sometimes be subjective to those who don’t know anything about it. But you can’t fake technique.” He took her hand and placed it over the center of his chest.
And there went the fucking fairy dust. It snaked around his body and if she wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn it giggled like a child racing off to play in the backyard.
She sucked in a deep breath, desperately trying to command it back to her body.
It didn’t listen.
Fucking fairy dust.
Fucking wolves.
Fucking Legend of the Fated Moons.
“You also can’t fake passion. Two things you have. I know Olivia has the talent. But I don’t know if she has the drive or the passion.”
“She’s passionate in her assumption I’m never leaving and don’t want her around.”
He dropped her hand, letting his fingers run through the dust. It disappeared into his skin. “What do you have to say about those two things?”
“Every principal dancer needs an understudy. I just wish she took her role more seriously.”
He lowered his chin. “How did Gwen treat you?”
“Like a little mosquito she wanted to slap.” She shook her head. “Oh no. I see where you’re going. I get I threatened Gwen. Olivia is no threat. I’m not saying that because I’m conceited or believe my shit doesn’t stink. Everyone is replaceable. I know that. I also do know that my time as principal is limited. I disagree with how long I have left, but let’s table that for now. I don’t treat Olivia badly. I get frustrated with her because she’s on her phone or she pouts. And she certainly never came running for Brandon like she did today for you.”
“New meat to impress, but she wasn’t prepared, and I can only do so much. Rehearsals can only do so much.” He squeezed her knee.
Sparks flew. And not just fairy dust either. Her insides exploded as if cannons were going off in the middle of a battlefield.
