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His eyes narrow on my face. “Or not? Do you have a problem with me taking you to work?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to spill the truth to him, but I’m too scared. What if it’s something he can’t get past? What if he has a policy that he doesn’t date employees?
What if he fires me for fucking him while I was supposed to be working?
And then there’s all the hours I’ve stolen to dance in the studio to also keep in mind.
I chicken out at the last second and say, “You need to get to the ballet company. I know you’re very busy with the upcoming show. Besides, I’m going to call a friend and catch up with her on the way to work.”
I can see Dario’s not happy with the poor excuse, but luckily, he doesn’t push the subject.
I take a couple of sips of my beverage before I press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Getting up, I say, “Good luck at work.”
As I turn around to leave, Dario grabs hold of my hand and rises to his full height.
“Are you upset because I offered to take you to work?”
I quickly shake my head. “Of course not.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
I move closer to him, and smiling, I press a decent kiss to his mouth before saying, “Nothing’s wrong. Call me when you’re done with rehearsals?”
He nods, and when I pull my hand free, he lets me go.
When I’m out of the coffee shop, I rush to the corner and glance over my shoulder. Not seeing Dario, I quickly break out into a run toward the ballet company.
My heart is a thundering mess in my chest and my lungs are on fire as I dart past Quincy’s desk, barely able to call out, “Hi.”
“What’s the hurry?” he shouts after me, but I don’t waste time to stop and answer him.
Dario can be here any second.
Only when I reach the safety of the locker room, do I drop my bag on the floor and suck in desperate breaths of air.
Jesus.
Using the back of my hand, I wipe the sweat from my forehead before drinking some water straight from the faucet. I put on my apron and cap and hurry to where the supplies are kept.
Knowing everyone will be in the auditorium, I retrieve my cleaning cart and push it toward the offices.
When I’m done with Mrs. Stafford’s office, I move to the next one. It’s only then that I realize it must be the one Dario uses.
As I polish the wooden desk, I glance around, but I don’t see anything to confirm it’s Dario’s.
I’ve just finished mopping the floor, and when I push the cart toward the door, it suddenly opens.
Dario walks in with his phone pressed to his ear. “Give me a week, and I’ll find out everything about the group.”
My heart almost jumps out of my chest. I duck my head low and push the cart so damn fast out of the office, praying Dario doesn’t recognize my clothes under the apron.
I need to bring an extra set of clothes to wear at work.
Before the door shuts, I hear him say, “It will cost a hundred thousand. The regular price.”
My eyebrows fly up as I move down the hallway in the direction of the studios.
