Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Well, it’s a beautiful name.”
A shiver ran down my spine, as if he’d complimented me on something much more exciting than my name.
My senses were having a field day between Deacon’s amazing scent and the delicious aroma of the espresso—two of my favorite smells blended together. But mostly my body was hyperaware of the gorgeous creature standing in front of me—one who’d made a woman scream in pleasure just last night.
Deacon walked over to the corner of the room. I admired him as he examined the photos displayed on my shelves. Most of them were of Sunny, but he lifted one of me. I braced myself as he looked back and forth from the photo to where I was standing.
“You were a ballet dancer?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I was…for several years. Not anymore, obviously.”
“Professionally?”
“Yes. I performed for The Manhattan Ballet as a principal dancer.”
If I’d thought his stare was penetrating before, that was nothing compared to the way he looked at me now.
“Wow.” He glanced back down at the photo. It showed me in an arabesque. He looked at it for longer than I was comfortable with. “Why did you stop?”
I swallowed, not prepared for this discussion. “I had an injury, and it forced me to retire.” Saying the words aloud left a bitter taste in my mouth.
He seemed to freeze, looking almost like it devastated him to hear what had happened to me. “I’m sorry. That had to have been hard to go through.”
“It wasn’t easy.”
Deacon stared at me, and with each second that passed, I felt a little more naked.
“It was the hardest thing I’d been through up to that point,” I finally admitted.
“What did you do…after? When you couldn’t dance anymore?”
“I took a behind-the-scenes position with the company for a couple of years.”
“What happened with that?”
I shrugged. “Sunny happened.”
“Ah.” He sighed and placed the frame back on the bookshelf. “Of course.”
The fact that he seemed genuinely interested gave me a push to open up a bit more. “Well…Sunny happening is the short version, actually. The longer story is that I began a relationship with the director of the ballet. Charles is the son of the long-time owner. He’s in his position via nepotism. Charles was legally separated from his wife at the time I was working for him. He left me to go back to her, but not before I got pregnant.”
“Shit,” Deacon said, taking a few steps toward me.
“Yeah.” I exhaled. “Finding out about the baby didn’t change anything with us. And honestly, I wouldn’t have taken him back anyway. He had two kids already, and while he did tell his ex-wife—now wife again—about Sunny, he’s chosen not to tell his children about their half-sister. He asked me to keep his name off the birth certificate.”
“He doesn’t support her at all?”
“He gives me money under the table. It’s a minimal amount, but it helps. I take it because I’m not going to let pride get in the way of caring for my daughter.”
“Well, that’s really sucky of him not to take more responsibility.”
“I’d honestly rather he not be in her life at this point. The only thing that feels worse than not having a father around is feeling rejected by the father you do see from time to time.”
He examined my eyes. “You sound like you have personal experience with that.”
Somehow this coffee run had turned into a therapy session. Deacon had a certain quality that made me feel like I could tell him anything, like he wouldn’t judge.
“You would be correct,” I said. “My dad wasn’t around for me.” I shook my head and looked down. “Anyway, no need to get into my life story. You went for coffee. This is more than you bargained for.”
“Are you kidding? I’m the one asking the questions. Sorry for being nosy.” He took a sip of his drink. “Anyway, I hope you don’t mind me saying, I’ve always been curious about you—your deal, what happened to your baby’s dad. It’s none of my business, but I did wonder.”
I sighed. “Well, now you know.”
“Yeah.” He smiled.
Since he didn’t seem to be going anywhere, I decided to ask something I’d been curious about.
“So, what about you? What’s your deal, Deacon? Are you from New York?”
“No, actually. I’m from Minnesota originally. I came out to New York from California a few years back because I wanted a change. But I can work from anywhere.”
“What do you do?”
“I design interactive games for a company based out of Asia.”
“That sounds so cool.”
“Definitely not a career I could’ve predicted, but it’s fun. Our app is very popular, and it does well. So that gives me a little job security in the otherwise unpredictable field of entertainment.”
“So you never have to go into an office?”
“I work from home the majority of the time. Only have to go to the company’s New York office occasionally for meetings. Their headquarters are in Japan.”