Page 37 of Guarded Hearts
I suppressed a grin, and she shot me a glare from across the hospital bed. She probably knew what I was thinking—we spent lots of time teasing each other.
“So,” the doctor said, gripping her clipboard, “the good news is that nothing is broken or so torn that it won’t heal.”
“It’s a sprain?” Alyssa’s voice was little more than a whisper.
“Yes.” The doctor glanced at the paper on the clipboard.
“What grade?” Alyssa’s hands were folded in her lap, and she wasn’t looking at anyone.
I ran a hand down her back, unable to help myself when she seemed on the verge of tears. A sprain was a good thing, wasn’t it?
“Grade Two.”
Both Mia and Alyssa sucked in a breath, and when Alyssa made eye contact with the doctor, there were tears shining in her eyes. “How many weeks?”
The doctor looked from Mia to Alyssa and back again. “With physiotherapy, you could be back in good shape in as little as three to four weeks. Sometimes it’s closer to six or eight. People don’t always heal on the same timeline. According to the paperwork you filled out, this isn’t your first ankle injury, so you’ll need to keep that in mind.”
“She’s part of my show,” Mia said. “She’s going to have to sit out. Is that your recommendation?”
The doctor grimaced and stared at Alyssa before sighing deeply. “With your history, Alyssa, yes, I would suggest you go heavy on the recovery to have any chance of being back in shape in three to four weeks. Ultimately, it’s your choice about what you’re capable of doing. I haven’t seen the show, so I don’t know the expectations. Physiotherapy and rest are your best avenues to wellness.”
The cold stone of realization settled in the pit of my stomach. We wouldn’t be able to practice together anymore for sure. Even at the shortest timeline, that took us almost to the wedding. The longer timeline would take her into rehearsals for Sarah Telling’s tour. Would this jeopardize her job with Sarah’s show? Alyssa must be worried about that too.
“Thank you,” Mia said before the doctor ducked back out of the room. “So.” Mia uncrossed her arms and ventured closer to Alyssa’s bed. “No more dancing for the rest of the tour. I’m not puttingyour career in jeopardy. This is one tour, and it’s not going to make or break your career at this point to bow out early with an injury. We need to be smart. That also applies to helping Pasha with the wedding routine. Is there anyone on the tour you’d suggest as a replacement? Off the top of my head are Amy, Maria, Tashi, or Yorelis.”
Alyssa ran her hands down the sides of her face, all the color gone. “Can I have a minute alone?”
Mia straightened and then frowned. “You’ll still be paid for the rest of the tour, injured or not. You can take on a coaching role with Pasha’s performance if you still want to be involved. I know it’s been your hard work that’s gotten us this far.”
“Can I just—can I please have a minute?” Alyssa’s gaze was focused on her ankle.
I wanted to comfort her somehow, but that was impossible with Mia in the room. Any of the things I wanted to do right now would increase the pressure Alyssa felt. When Mia didn’t move at Alyssa’s request, I made a shooing motion to her and swept her and Gerald out of the room.
I half turned to Alyssa, unsure if I should leave or act as though Mia wasn’t outside the curtain. The stress of her diagnosis coated her, made her look especially tiny in the hospital bed.
“Alone,” she said, her gaze still on her ankle.
I nodded and stepped out into the hall. As soon as I came out, Mia grabbed my arm and dragged me away from Gerald and down a side hall.
She looked around the corridor before saying, “There’s something going on between you two, isn’t there?” She narrowed her eyes.
I met Mia’s gaze. Never had I lied to her before, but something in the way she was looking at me made me think she didn’t want the truth. “No. No. No.” I frowned, pretending to be offended at the suggestion.
She released her breath in a whoosh, and her shoulders dropped. “Like, seriously? Really? That’s a relief. Watching you two in there, I was sure something was going on. So much tension. Can you tone that connection down? I know you’ve gotten close with all the hours you’ve spent together. But I have to fire Jazz.”
“She stepped into Alyssa’s slot on stage in the last song.”
Mia cocked her head and scanned my face. “She did. She was off her head on something tonight. In the dancer’s contract, being high during a performance is a fireable offense. I’m having her drug tested right now, but I’m sure of it. You should have seen her after the show. So out of it. She’s not going to take being fired well. It’s a death sentence for her career on tours—people talk.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want her and a lawyer sniffing around you and Alyssa, looking for retaliation. My contract also has a nonfraternization clause.” She held my gaze. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Yes.” My heart kicked. Alyssa had been right. Mia, backed into a corner, would have to fire someone.
“Taryn said you swooped Alyssa off the stage like a knight in shining armor. Someone probably has it on video. So, if thereissomething going on, it would be best if itwasn’t. For now. I’m glad thereisn’tanything going on with you two, so I’m not accused of selectively enforcing my contracts. Am I making myself clear?”
She was. She wasn’t going to confront them, but she knew something was going on. The warped version of the story suited all of us best. Ignorance. Avoidance. Okay with me. “Yes.”
“Having another person dancing with you and Alyssa from now until the end of the tour should put any rumors to rest. A different partner. A different vibe coming out of the practice room every day. Probably for the best…while we’re on tour.”
She’d rarely spoken to me like I was stupid, even when my English had been so terrible it would have been easy for her to assume I had nothing going on in my head. The way she was being so deliberate now emphasized how much she needed me to fall in line.
