He lifts one eyebrow. “That’s what I said. How do you feel about this?”
I drop my attention back to the screen, and my eyes fall on a quote from old Barty.“Justin has the drive and dedication we value at The Bettencourt Corporation, and I couldn’t be happier to hand over the reins to him.”
My mind is spinning like an out of control Tilt-A-Whirl. With my finger and thumb, I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Fuck. I don’t even know. That had to have been a slap in the face for Beatrice after she followed that asshole’s demands to the letter.” My eyes fall on a matching set behind a pair of stylish glasses. “I probably should feel bad for her.”
“Don’t,” Helix snaps, jabbing a finger toward me. “She doesn’t fucking deserve your pity. She chose her career and her father over youand Reece. She abandoned her fucking child and the man who would have been the best goddamn husband she ever could have imagined.”
“That’s what I’m saying. She gave up everything with the promise that she’d be CEO when her father retired, and then…” I snap my fingers, “he just snatched it away from her and stuck her in a middle-management position.” A sense of entitled outrage begins to creep down my spine because seriously…fuck Beatrice Bettencourt. I gave her every chance to have both a career and a family, and she threw it in my face. A picture of my beautiful daughter—the one Beatrice refused to even look at—flashes through my mind, and a very petty smile forms on my lips. “Guess karma’s a bitch, huh?”
Helix mirrors my grin. “Guess she is.”
“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” Jordie asks from the passenger seat of my SUV on Tuesday evening.
“You’re really going to ask me that same question three times in ten minutes?” I shoot back. When she makes a huffy little sound and her shoulders slump, I chuckle. “You’ll find out in just a second, Miss Impatient.”
I pull into the parking lot of the strip mall and find a spot at the very end, hooking my small leather duffel over one shoulder when we get out. As we walk down the sidewalk in front of the stores, I can see Jordie’s eyes scanning each one. Nail shop. Barber. Fried chicken restaurant. Pet store. She scrutinizes each one as we pass without stopping.
I know when she sees our destination as soon as her eyes light up, sparkling aqua in the evening sun. “Is that where we’re going?” She points excitedly, and I hesitate for five long seconds to annoy her before finally nodding.
“Yep. Now you know my big Tuesday secret.”
She claps and does a full body wiggle that has me staring at her tits in that white tank top. “Oh my god. A ballroom dance studio? I’m so excited.Celebrity Ballroomis my absolute favorite show on TV.”
I laugh and take her hand, something I’ve been wanting to do since I picked her up. It’s warm in mine and feels like it belongs there.
“I love that show too. Come on.”
We enter, and I’m instantly surrounded by the familiar, comforting smells… wood polish, tropical air freshener, and a hint of sweaty bodies. The sounds of music and laughter guide us to the studio room at the back, which is lined with mirrors on the front and back walls.
Jordie takes in all the dancers in various poses of stretching, and then her worried eyes come to me. “Why didn’t you tell me what kind of shoes to bring? I’m wearing sneakers.”
“That’s why I brought these.” I reach into my duffel and pull out a pretty gray box with blue writing, handing it over to her. “If you don’t like them, I can?—”
I’m cut off by her squeal because she already has the box open and is peering wide-eyed at the low-heeled silver shoes inside. She pulls one out, and her gaze meets mine.
“I love them. I know I’m not really a girly girl, but I have a weakness for all the pretty costumes and shoes they wear onCelebrity Ballroom.” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m honestly a little obsessed.”
My heart thumps a quick beat in my chest at her enthusiasm. I’d been worried about this gift because they definitely don’t scream tomboy football player. But they are gorgeous shoes with rhinestones across the toes and ankle strap.
“I’m glad you like them. Now put those babies on, and I’ll introduce you to Esperanza. She’s the owner, and she teaches all the ballroom classes along with her husband, Boris.”
As we take a seat on the long bench and begin putting on our dance shoes, I fill her in. “Esperanza is Spanish and Boris is from Russia. He’s a great dancer, but his English is passable at best. He mostly communicates by wild hand gestures and a few words.” I wave my hands around and point to demonstrate. “Move heeps. Fix foots.”
Jordie laughs. “Gotcha. Hopefully myheepswill do what I tell them to do.”
“That’s what she said,” I tease, earning me an elbow to the ribs.
When we’re done, I lead Jordie over to the tall, dark-haired womanat the front of the room. “Phoenix,” she coos, briefly kissing my cheek. “So happy you’re back this week. And who is this?” Esperanza turns her warm brown eyes on Jordie.
“This is Jordie McNamara. Jordie, this is Esperanza Rostova.”
My teacher grabs Jordie’s shoulders and kisses both her cheeks. “Oh, the football player. I’m so happy to meet you. My husband and I have tickets to your home opener. I do hope you plan on winning.” One thin eyebrow bends into a perfect arch.
Jordie grins. “We’ll do our best. I think the team is really shaping up well.”
The two women chat for a minute before class begins. Jordie and I find a spot at the front, and Esperanza addresses the students. “Tonight we are learning the tango.”
