Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I rose to my feet, then folded my arms and waited for Juniper to see us.
It took all of three seconds.
She paused on the other side of the glass, her eyes widening as her gaze jumped back and forth between Allie and me. She clutched the thick canvas strap of her bag and retreated a step.
“Yeah, I’d run if I were you too,” Allie mumbled.
I crooked my finger at Juniper.
She moved forward slowly at first, then lifted her chin and picked up the pace, coming through the door like it was just an average Sunday. If I wasn’t so mad at her, I would have grinned at the pure sass.
“Outside, now,” Allie snapped.
Juniper pursed her lips, then did as instructed. We followed the flow of traffic out of the building and into the parking lot. “If you’re going to yell, then just get it over with and yell.”
“The last thing you want is a piece of my temper,” Allie warned.
Juniper’s gaze dropped to the asphalt.
I looked over her head and locked eyes with Allie, giving her the choice to make the next move, more than ready to make it if she wanted.
“Bring her to my house. Now.” She turned, her ponytail swinging as she walked across the aisle to Anne’s Mercedes.
Juniper sighed and lifted her gaze to mine. “Are you going to yell?”
“I think I’ll let the professional handle this one.” The truck beeped as I unlocked it. “Get in. Because I love you, I’ll drive slowly, and if I were you, I’d spend every minute of the trip hoping she cools off before we get there.”
Chapter Eighteen
Allie
RousseauSisters4: dancers should make their own choices about their bodies, especially their feet.
By the time I walked into the house, the anger that had threatened to burn straight through that glass at Quinn’s studio had lowered to a simmer: still hot enough to burn the shit out of someone but controlled.
I walked up the back steps, then quickly dressed in leggings and a sports bra, throwing on a light wrap sweater before going downstairs and waiting, giving me just enough time to type out a quick email to my contact at NASD—the National Association of Schools of Dance.
“Throw a water bottle near my niece,” I muttered under my breath.
It wasn’t long before Hudson pulled in and walked Juniper up the front steps. She’d put on a zip-up jacket but still appeared to be in her tights and leotard as I opened the door.
“I know you’re mad—” Juniper started.
“Go to the studio.” I gestured to the doors on the right as Anne came in the back door with Sadie.
“Hey, you’re back!” Her tone shifted as her footsteps approached. “What’s going on?” She reached the foyer, then stared into the studio, her eyebrows rising as she saw Juniper. “She’s here?”
“She was taking class with Quinn Hawkins,” I told her, bending to pet Sadie.
“She was taking class?” Anne’s mouth dropped, and she shot an accusing look at Hudson.
“Don’t look at me. I found out this morning.” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets, and I quickly looked away before I got the slightest bit distracted by staring at him. This was not the time or place.
“What are we going to do?” Anne asked, unhooking Sadie from her leash.
“I’m going to handle it,” I promised.
Anne’s eyes flared for a second, and she opened her mouth, then appeared to think twice about whatever she was going to say. “All right. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
A tiny gust of a sigh blew through my lips. I hadn’t realized how much I needed her to trust my decision, my agency, until she did.
“Feel free to follow,” I said to Hudson as I entered the studio, finding Juniper standing dead center, picking at her jacket nervously. “You lied to me.”
Juniper startled, her gaze flying to Hudson in an obvious plea.
He walked by me and leaned back against the wall across from the third mirror panel, then folded his arms across his chest, staying silent.
“You. Lied,” I repeated.
“I never told you I wasn’t taking class, just that Mom wouldn’t let me.” She wrung her hands.
“A lie by omission is still a lie.” I would know.
“I just thought if I could take class and compete in the Classic, then one of her reasons for not letting me dance would be gone.” She shifted her weight.
“Because the girls who place usually get scholarships,” I guessed.
Juniper nodded. “I wasn’t trying for the elite levels. I’m not delusional. But the beginner and intermediates usually score a tuition discount at Madeline’s.”
Next year, right? She had to mean next year.
She twisted, turning toward Hudson. “I went to Uncle Gavin because I knew you’d say no. Working to change Mom’s opinion was already pushing it, but taking class would never fly.”
“You were right. I would have said no. But this discussion doesn’t involve me.” He pointed my direction.