Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
I probably shouldn’t answer. There’s no reason to engage with him beyond what’s necessary.
I do, anyway.
“Blue,” I answer.
“My favorite color,” he replies back. “You should send me a picture.”
Obviously, I don’t do that, but I do save his phone number in case I need to contact him again about his intrusion in my life, or even my annoying neighbor.
___
It’s recital night—one of them, anyway. Technically, there are recitals tonight and tomorrow, but tonight’s show runs longer, and it’s the one with all my classes.
Parker comes to help me keep my outfits straight. Mothers help their kids change, but I still need to change my own costumes as quickly as possible so I can get to the students and parents and help resolve any problems they might have.
“Are you sure you don’t want to watch from the audience?” I ask Parker as she moves around me, smoothing down the gold sequins and looking over my tap dancing outfit.
“No, I’m fine watching on the sidelines,” she assures me, checking my black tights for runs. “Perfect,” she says, pulling out her cell phone. “Now, let me get a picture before you go dance and mess up all my hard work.”
I grin at her and strike a pose.
This outfit is one of my favorites: a top hat, a gold sequined tuxedo top with a bow tie, and black short shorts with black tights underneath. I have a cane, and so do all of the adorable little kids in my 7-9 tap class.
I gather up my kids once Parker gets her picture, then we all head out on stage and take our places.
The night goes smoothly, all things considered. One of my creative movement kids gets turned around, and another picks her nose on stage. The audience laughs, of course, because she’s five.
The night goes by in a blur of counting little heads and quick costume changes. Finally, toward the end of the night, I get to perform with my older 12-14 kids, and then my belly dancing class is the last of my classes. There’s one teacher after me with a group of high school seniors doing ballet, but I’m completely beat by the time they dance.
The show closes, and all the dancers and instructors head backstage.
Thankfully, my amazing daughter has already packed up all my discarded costumes. I don’t bother changing out of the belly dancing one since we’re heading straight home, and now that the show is over I have to visit my students to tell them how great they were.
I get a carnation wrapped in tinfoil from a blond-haired little boy, the only boy in my creative movement class.
“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, Jamie. Thank you,” I say, giving him a hug. “You did such a great job tonight. You were even better than me!”
He’s shy, but he blushes and smiles, then returns to his mom’s side. She thanks me for all my work with him over the summer, and then they leave.
Slowly, every last student trickles out, so I head back to my dressing room, where Parker waits with the suitcase full of my costumes.
“Do you know who the best daughter in town is?”
“Just in town?” she jokes. “I did all this without pay.”
“Fine, your greatness extends beyond our locality. You are officially the best daughter in the world. Maybe the universe.”
She cracks a smile and wheels the luggage toward the door. “I have your makeup bag. Make sure I didn’t forget anything. I’ll take this stuff out to the car.”
“I owe you an abundance of Twizzlers,” I call as she heads out the door.
“And I’m picking all the movies we watch tonight,” she calls back.
I smile, turning around to double-check that I’m not leaving anything behind. Once I’m satisfied that I’m not, I turn off the lights so I can leave.
The lobby is still bustling with dancers talking to their guests, most with an armful of flowers. I’m so distracted watching them as I make my way toward the exit doors that I walk right into someone.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I say, backing up as my gaze snaps to the person I ran into.
My tummy tumbles when I look up into the handsome face of Hayden Atwater. I take in his sultry smile and the glint of mischief in his eyes, the handsome blue suit stretched over his impressive physique. In his arms rests a gorgeous bouquet of blue and purple orchids.
He holds them out to me.
Flowers for me?
“What are you doing here?” I ask cautiously, not reaching for the bouquet.
“You never sent me that picture, so I had to come see your blue costume for myself.” He smirks, nodding at the single white carnation in my hand. “I figured every dancer deserves flowers after their performance, but I see someone beat me to it.”
I nod, bringing the carnation to my nose and inhaling the lovely scent. “Yep. He was rather dashing, too.”