Fierce Dancer (Sierra Pride Book 5) by Liza Street

Author:Liza Street
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-09-07T05:00:00+00:00

eight

“What the hell was that about, Emma?” Nathaniel asked.

She blinked at him innocently in the dressing room mirror, where she was removing her make-up.

He snorted. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything…actually yes, yes you do. Tell me everything. You knew that guy, and I saw you—you didn’t even take money for that dance. So what the hell?”

“Will you buy the story that it was an investment that totally paid off for the rest of the night?” she asked.

He crossed his arms over his burly chest. “Nope.”

“I had sex with him the other night.”

“What?”

Emma tried to tell the whole story. She tried to explain her instant attraction to the guy and how she really hadn’t been able to help herself. But she still didn’t understand it. She didn’t even understand why she hadn’t responded to his texts. It had literally hurt her chest, like her heart was breaking to ignore him. “And then it turns out it wasn’t the guy you’d sent, but he was there because my best girlfriend, Hera, sent him.”

“Nice gift,” Nathaniel commented. “Was it your birthday?”

“Ha, no. I haven’t exactly been keeping in touch with Hera. So she sent him to track me down, I guess.”

Nathaniel rubbed her neck and shoulders, and she leaned back into his touch. “Em,” he said, “you can’t ditch your friends like that.”

“I know, but she wouldn’t understand—”

“You’ve told me about Hera,” he interrupted. “You’ve told me how you were friends from third grade on, and how she knows you better than anyone. You think she wouldn’t understand your job now?”

Emma closed her eyes. “Maybe she would. Yes, she would. But I can’t make myself tell her.”

All she could think about was how awful it had been when Ted’s wife—the producer of the ballet company—had confronted her and Ted. Most of the woman’s wrath had been for Emma. “You’re trash!” the producer had screamed. “Only a trashy whore would sleep with another woman’s husband!”

She hadn’t given Emma the opportunity to tell her she hadn’t known he was married, that he’d been lying to Emma, too. Emma hadn’t seen the signs—she hadn’t even known there were signs to look for. She’d just been a girl in love, or, rather, a girl who’d thought she was in love.

Nathaniel kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be ashamed of what you’re doing, Em. You’re going to keep training, and you’ll audition with a company soon. In the meantime, you’re staying limber and toned. And the second you start thinking poorly about yourself for this job, is the second you should quit and find something else to bring in money. There’s lots to do out there.”

“I know,” she grumbled. “But this one is best for my body.” She’d chosen the job for this very reason, and she’d never had any problems with nudity, a result from years of changing costumes in close quarters with other dancers, both men and women.

Annette came in with a funny expression on her face. “Emma? There’s a guy on the phone for you.

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