Page 55 of The Prom King & The Ice Queen

Savannah

I’m not entirelysure how it’s happened, but…I’m having fun.

“Bet you didn’t know I could dance,” Leo says, that belly-flipping smile on full display as we sway in time to the music.

“It doesn’t surprise me.” What surprises me is that I like dancing with him. The music is old-timey, the crowd around us mostly elderly, but Leo and I have been laughing and talking and…

I think maybe flirting.

Okay, I know we’re flirting. I might not be as experienced with guys as I’d led April and the others to believe, but I know when I’m being flirted with. And this guy…

I take a deep breath to control the butterflies. It doesn’t help.

“Was that…” Leo pretends to be confused. “Was that a compliment?”

I giggle.

Oh crap, what is wrong with me? I do not giggle. On principle, I am not a giggler. But that’s what escapes and I get that lopsided grin in return.

“You’re an athlete,” I say. “Of course you can dance.”

“Of course you can dance,” he repeats under his breath with a shake of his head. “Who are you and what have you done with Miss Attitude?”

I roll my eyes. “I just don’t have patience for big egos, that’s all.”

“Ah,” he drawls. “So you’ve decided it’s your job to keep all us arrogant jerks in check.”

My lips twitch against my will. “Something like that.”

He opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by the sudden arrival of his grandparents.

We stop dancing as they greet us.

I’ve worked for them so many times I’ve lost track. But I’ve never once actually interacted with the intimidating patriarch and matriarch of this town. I’ll be honest, they’re a little scary. Even Leo’s grandmother, who’s smiling as Leo kisses her cheek. But when she turns to me I see past the smiles to the steel spine and appraising gaze.

There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s pegged me and my secondhand dress for the outsiders we are.

Iam. My dress has done nothing wrong.

Mr. Barons shakes my hand. “Miss Winters,” he says. “We’re pleased you could join us this evening.”

“Thank you for having me,” I say.

My mom taught me manners, no one could fault her there. She might not be winning any mom of the year awards, but when I was growing up she’d tell me stories of her own life—so very different from mine—and teach me how to play the part of an heiress…even if I was as far from one as one could get.

So I manage all right, answering their polite questions with equal politeness. Leo’s the one who’s tense at my side. For a second I think maybe he’s ashamed of me…or worried about how I’m going to answer when they ask pointedly if I’m still working for the princess troupe.

“I am,” I say. “Just not tonight, luckily for me.”

They smile.

“It’s nice to meet a young person with such a solid work ethic,” his grandfather says.

I don’t respond. I’ve never really understood the fascination with work ethic. I work so I have money. It’s not really all that noble.

I refuse to worry about whether or not Leo’s embarrassed by me. I wouldn’t expect anything less.

“And what do you plan to do next year?” his grandmother asks.

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