“We? Don’t you mean me? I’m a big girl, Jaxon. I can befriend anyone I want to.”
When she started to walk away, I groaned. “I didn’t mean that. I just want you to be careful.”
“Like I said… But I’ll offer you a piece of advice. Don’t be your typical rough around the edges self when you meet her. Unless you’ve already done that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She pressed her hand on my chest, acting as if she was smoothing out the edges. “I just mean you’re very edgy lately. She has a lot on her plate and you won’t help matters.”
“I’m not edgy!” As soon as I snapped, I regretted it.
The moment she noticed the specks of blood on my shirt she shook her head. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
“You can’t let well enough alone. Can you?”
“It’s business, Emme.”
“Business. We own a business. This one right here. We don’t need to continue being those other people.”
“Those other people have allowed us to have this business and all the fancy cars and houses you seem to enjoy.” I even threw out my arms. “We also own a corporation that takes times and precedence.”
She allowed me to see the fire of her fury. “Fine. That’s why you’ll remain single. No woman can tolerate a guy who goes out and bloodies someone on a regular basis. You’re an asshole, Jaxon. Leave my friend alone.”
Before she could walk away, I grabbed the second brownie. Even while only being in her twenties, my sister had the uncanny ability of making me feel as if I was the younger of us two, chastising my behavior with joy in her heart. She also adored embarrassing all four brothers whenever she had the opportunity.
Unfortunately, the woman was usually right.
I watched Emme walk away while munching on my favorite treat.
And all I could think about was the woman from before.
CHAPTER 11
Anna
“What the hell is she doing here?”
“Did you see her dance in New York? The worst performance I’ve ever seen.”
“Why didn’t Chloe’s understudy get the part?”
“Did you hear? She was late this morning. Such a little prima donna.”
Jealousy was sadly typical in the world of ballet much like any other artistic profession. I’d had almost every criticism tossed my way over the years for being too fat, too skinny, too young, too old. Too clumsy.
Many of the worst had come from creative directors and choreographers. If you didn’t grow thick skin, you’d fall into a puddle of sobs every other day. I’d mostly been able to have a deaf ear after falling into a fit of despair early on.
Every artist found a way of ignoring criticism. Mine included going through the steps of the piece I was working on, able to hear the music. I also learned to do so when I was nervous or frightened about something else.
In my mind, being called the Ice Queen was a compliment. That meant my attempt at ignoring personal jabs and bouts of petty jealousy had worked exactly as I’d wanted.
Which was why, after hearing the barbs said behind my back right after meeting everyone on the dance team and even during practice, I was shocked the horrible comments continued to bother me.
The only reason I could ascertain was because I was starting over with no safety net. I hadn’t come up through the ranks being a student in the New Orleans world, capturing a role as a teenager in theNutcrackerthen moving to thecorps de ballet. I’d come into an existing family as a principal dancer, including performing a role another dancer had worked hard to achieve.
I could rationalize all of it.
