Page 62 of No Place Like Home
Soon to be just Cade.
His vision blurred. He tried to find three items to focus on, but anxiety rushed in full force, clawing at his throat until he couldn’t breathe. The mayoral campaign meant more pressure. More responsibility. This pace was never going to let up. And he had to do it all or fail.
Which wasn’t an option.
He drew a tight breath with little success as he looked away from his overflowing pile of responsibilities. He tried to focus on the individual fibers of the carpet beneath his Sperrys.One, two, three. He sucked in a full breath of air.Four, five, six.
He reached fifteen, waited a few minutes to be sure, then brushed off the knees of his slacks. He knew what he needed to do. Clearly, there would be no focusing on any of his multiplying tasks until it was well.
With his soul…
And with Rosalyn.
* * *
The late morning sun streamed through the studio windows, warming Rosalyn’s bare arms. She inverted on the silks, her movements rote and without any of her usual artistic grace as she ran through the routine she’d prepared over the weekend. She’d had to do something to keep the image of Cade’s disappointed face out of her mind…not that it’d helped.
Rosalyn wrapped the silks to prepare for a double star drop. Pouring herself into her workouts had slightly aggravated her knee, but the rest of her body felt good after so much movement. Since coming home, she’d been more lax with her exercise regimen—which apparently had been good for her knee but bad for her emotional health.
Or maybe her secrets were bad for her emotional health.
She rolled into the double star drop, wincing as the fabric caught her harder than she’d anticipated. Thank goodness Blaine hadn’t seen that. Not that he was an aerial coach, but he knew how good she was—and had no problem berating her into being better. She glanced toward her purse by the door, where her phone was turned to silent, imagined him blowing it up with endless texts. The fact he’d left her alone as long as he had after their brief conversation the other day was a miracle.
But waseveryoneleaving her alone? Had he been successful in asking for an extension on her loan payments because of her injury? She couldn’t know without asking.
She wrapped her feet and moved into a split balance, usually one of her strongest skills. But today, she wobbled. Holding one of the poles with one hand for extra support, Rosalyn fought for balance, tightening her core, squeezing her thighs. She slowly released the fabric. Still wobbly, but better.
“Wow.” An awed female voice sounded below.
Rosalyn glanced down. Zoey. “Oh, hey.” Gripping the poles in both hands, she unwrapped her feet and slid carefully down the silks to the ground. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“Sorry to interrupt. I came to bring Madame Paulette her weekly order of beignets.” Zoey held up a rectangular bakery box. “She says they’re for her students but sometimes I wonder how many she shares.” She grinned as she tossed her shock of dark bangs out of her eyes. “Is Madame here?”
“She stepped out. Something about a ‘handsome devil of a man’ being spotted over at Chug a Mug.” Rosalyn smiled back as she clapped chalk off her hands. “I guess Magnolia Bay doesn’t get a lot of strangers lately.”
“Tourism has slowed. I know that’s part of what Cade is working to correct with Magnolia Days.” Zoey set the box on the shoe cubby by the front door.
“Will you have a beignet booth at the festival?”
“You bet.” Zoey hiked one yoga-pant-clad leg on the barre near the door and stretched. “We need all the sales we can get.” She gestured with her chin toward the ceiling. “Could you teach me how to do that sometime?”
“A split balance?” Rosalyn raised her eyebrows. “That’s a little advanced?—”
“No way. I can’t even do the splits on the ground!” Zoey laughed as she traded legs on the barre to stretch the other one. “I meant some basic tricks. Basically cool enough to shut Linc up when he brags about weightlifting.”
“Of course.” Rosalyn started to knot her silks up off the floor. Her knee was done for the day—maybe so were her spirits. “I think Elisa was interested in learning too. I could show you guys a few beginner skills.”
Zoey’s face lit. “I’m sensing a girl’s night.”
“That’d be fun.” Rosalyn was only slightly surprised to realize she meant it.
“I bet you’re a great teacher.” Zoey screwed up her nose as she sank into a grand plié at the barre. “I’d besobad with kids.”
“It’s fun to watch them learn.” Rosalyn gestured to the studio around them. “I helped with the girls’ ballet class last week—they’re sweet.” She hesitated, then grinned. “Most of them, anyway.”
“I guess I only see them when they’re sugared up at my shop.” Zoey laughed.
“Hopefully one day I’ll be able to open a studio for kids. I wish I’d started even younger than I did.” The statement slipped out before Rosalyn fully processed the cost of it. But since she’d been holding in so much for so long, it felt nice to talk about something vulnerable that wasn’t dangerous.
