Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
So I pull out the farm-fresh eggs—I could hear the hens when I took Riley out, and I can’t wait to meet them later—and get to work chopping vegetables for an omelet.
It’s not what I’d typically eat before I came to the States, but I can see the appeal. Loaded with veggies, eggs, and cheese, it’s a filling breakfast rich in protein and nutrients. Ma used to have Chef make this with sausage, bacon or beans, and black pudding, all separated rather than combined, but I’ve adapted to this as a fairly quick alternative.
As I’m grating a potato for hash browns, my phone rings, startling me.
“Hey, Mik.” I set it to speakerphone and go back to grating. “And how are you this fine morning?”
He’s silent for a moment. “And who is this man that has you sounding this way?”
I smirk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you, and I know this voice. Tell me.”
“You haven’t come to visit me, so you wouldn’t know him,” I remind Mik. “But he’s someone new in my life, and I’m quite smitten. That’s all I’ll say. Now, what are you about?”
“We need to talk.” I pause in my grating and frown.
“About what?”
“I want you to listen to me, and do not interrupt, and do not tell me no until you’ve heard what I have to say. Promise me, Skyla.”
“Now you’re making me nervous.”
“Promise.”
“Yes, fine, I promise. Now, talk before I have an anxiety attack.”
He takes a deep breath, and I frown as I cross to the sink, where I can look outside. The mountains look beautiful out here, and I can see chickens walking around the yard. And to think Beck gets to see this every day. It makes me a wee bit jealous.
“We’ve been asked to dance one performance of Giselle in London for the coronation of King Frederick.”
I scowl at the poor chickens. “That’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t The London Ballet Company be asked to do that?”
“Because we are the best, of course. And because he saw us perform it once, and he loved it and wants us.”
“Us, as in, you and me?”
“Of course. There is no one else.”
I sigh and close my eyes. “Mik. I love you so much, and I won’t lie and say that I don’t miss dancing with you because you know I do. But I can’t. My ankle isn’t where it should be.”
“It’s been almost a year since your injury,” he says, frustration heavy in his voice. “No doctor will tell you that you can’t dance.”
“No, in fact, I’ve been given clearance to dance, but that doesn’t mean that the joint is strong enough for what I’d have to put it through to get into shape for a performance like this. Mik, I’ve gained weight.”
“How much weight?”
“Ten pounds.”
“Psh, you can take that off. Rehearsal alone will take that right off you, and you know it. Tighten up your diet, malishka.”
Restrict my diet again. Go hungry again. Hate every extra pound, all over again.
“Mik—”
“I said don’t say no. It is one performance, Skyla. I am not asking you to move back to New York City and pick up where you left off. It is one night.”
“Sure, one night that will require weeks of work, and you know I won’t go to the city to rehearse with you. I will not do it. I live here. My business is here.”
“And your man is there,” he finishes for me.
“Yes. Frankly, my entire life is here, and if you’d move here, my life would be complete.”
He scoffs at that. We both know that Mik will never leave New York City.
“What if I come there for rehearsal?”
I blink, staring blindly out the window. “You’d do that?”
“This is important. We never got to say goodbye, malishka. We never had our final curtain call, our moment together.”
No, because we didn’t know that that last night would be the end of it. We had no way of knowing.
Water fills my eyes as I take a shaky breath.
“After more than a decade of work together, we deserve this. We both deserve it.”
“When do I have to let you know?”
“The sooner, the better. The performance will be in June.”
“Mik.” I shake my head. “We’d have to start rehearsals in just a few weeks.”
“That is why you need to let me know. I will hound you about it. It is happening.”
“You know I don’t like being handled, Mikhail.”
“Yes, you do. I have to go. And seriously, malishka, please consider it. We need it.”
He hangs up, and I lean on the countertop, still looking outside.
“You should do it.”
With a gasp, I whirl around and clutch my hand to my chest, then scowl down at Riley.
“You’re supposed to warn me of these things.”
“You were pretty deep in thought,” Beck says. He’s leaning against the wall across the room, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me.