Pointe Noire (The Noire House Book 1) by Lacie Thorne

Author:Lacie Thorne [Thorne, Lacie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Emily

My fear of forced early retirement had clouded my other concerns when Martin told me that he was loaning me out to Sam. As the hours of rehearsals and performance ticked by, a nagging thought tugged at the edge of my mind. By the time I arrived home late that night, I was angry and by the following morning—and a distinct lack of sleep—I was furious.

It was in this intense state of rage that I met Garret for our usual Sunday lunch.

“Oh, no, what happened?”

Of course he would notice my bad mood. The man knew me better than anyone. I shook my head and sat opposite him at our favorite café. Within seconds, a waitress set a café au lait in front of me, Garret no doubt ordering my coffee in anticipation of my arrival.

“I’m going to take a guess and say this has something to do with Sam.”

I eyed him from under my lashes. “You know what he did?”

Garret shrugged. “He might have mentioned something.” A beat of silence filled the air as he took a sip of his own coffee. “Martin also called to let me know you’d be absent from Tuesday performances, but mostly he wanted to tell me about the change in next season.”

As the company’s primary benefactor, Martin liked to keep Garret informed. After all, they were mostly using his donations to fund the production.

“You don’t mind?” I asked, my tone accusatory.

“No. Sam wants your help, and Martin is pleased the fancy New York choreographer is going to grace his company.”

There was a tiny hint of scorn in his voice, but I was too involved in my own issues to give it more than a passing thought. “And what about me? Don’t I get a choice in all this? He’s messing with my career, Garret.”

“He’s not messing with anything. It’s one night a week, Emmy. Who knows, it might be good for you. Give you a break. I still think you went back too soon after your injury.”

“You don’t know anything,” I hissed. “They’re trying to push me out, Garret. Now, it’s one night a week. Then Constance will take the lead in next season’s ballet. I’ll become redundant. Old and sent to re-retirement long before I even reach fucking thirty.”

I stumbled over the word I hated, my sobs already building up in my chest. I covered my face and broke down right there in the middle of the café, in front of at least fifty people. My shoulders shook with the force of my tears, and I was glad I’d chosen to go make-up free. It would lessen the mess when I had to pull myself together.

Muscular arms banded around my waist and pulled me to an equally hard chest. I cried against Garret, soaking as much comfort from him as I could. He mumbled soothing words, one arm holding me tight as the other brushed over my hair, travelling down my back. The motion calmed me, like a lullaby rocking a child to sleep.

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