After receiving terrible news about the future of her career, a NYC ballerina becomes a choreographer at a failing male strip club to make some extra cash and spice up her life. What she doesn't expect is to fall for the one man who doesn't want his...
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"Hot Stranger?" I blurted out, then slapped a hand over my mouth, causing the gold bangles on my wrist to ring together. Hot Stranger was not his name. I'd just been calling him that inside my head all day, and now I couldn't remember what his real name was. It definitely wasn't Romeo.
"I'm sorry if that was rude," I rushed to say. "But it's you. The guy from The Hope Foundation. I thought I recognized you from somewhere, but wow." My gaze fell to his very tattooed chest. "You look really different without clothes on."
Romeo didn't react. He just stood there, studying me with a flat look on his face, and all of a sudden it dawned on me why he'd walked off stage. West was wrong. It wasn't because this man was a primadonna or because of backstage drama–he'd left because he recognized me from the studio this morning and thought I was a tutu-wearing demon who didn't want to help sick kids.
For someone who looked so stoic, he sure held a grudge.
Now that I understood what his problem was, I could fix it. Earlier, when I thought I was being made principal, I hadn't been able to tell Hot Stranger how disgusted I was with Celeste's response to his wish request. But I wasn't at Liberty Ballet right now.
"Listen, about your meeting with Celeste," I started to say.
Romeo's scowl deepened, and he cut me off.
"I'm not talking about your ballet mistress right now. I'm talking about you." The way he said you in his deep voice had me gasping. Romeo took a step forward, crowding my space, but I didn't give an inch. "I'm only going to say this one more time, twinkle toes, and if you don't give me a straight answer, I'll have you thrown out of this club." He dropped his voice dangerously low. "Why are you and your friends here?"
I knew what I was supposed to say; I was here for Maren and West. They were scouting for talent and wanted to help these dancers, who, truth be told, needed all the help they could get, but I was having trouble making my mouth move.
He didn't like me, and for whatever reason, that bothered me. I wanted him to like me. The real me. Not twinkle toes, the selfish ballerina he thought I was.
I wasn't sure why I cared so much if this man liked me. Maybe it was because of Celeste's rejection of us both today, or maybe it was just my insane need to help people. Whatever the reason, I wanted him to see me as more than a monster.
But how could I do that when he was intent on hating me?
Romeo continued to study me with a scowl that would've made another women cower. Between my continually disappointed parents and the ballet mistress, I was used to being the recipient of disdain, but this felt different. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he'd looked at me when he marched out of Celeste's office.
"I'm calling security," Romeo said, turning away from me and walking toward the door.
