Page 22 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
“That’s ridiculous. You’re going to travel to Pariseveryweekend?” I shook my head. “There’s no convincing Dad. He’ll lose his shit and you know it.”
“But—”
“Stop treating me like a kid.” I pointed my fork at him. “I’ll be fine. Anyway, didn’t the Boss make you guys train with me because he wanted you to work together? If you’re not here, that defeats the purpose. There’s a good chance he’ll call off theprogram altogether and Asher can go back to training on his own.”
Vincent stared at me for a long beat before his shoulders relaxed.
“You’re right.” Relief shrouded his words. “If the Boss okays my leave, which he basically has to, he’s not going to make Donovan stay with you. It would be stupid.”
I hoped that was the case. Otherwise, it meant Asher and I would be forced into one-on-one lessons. Three times a week, every week for the remainder of the summer.
An errant flutter disrupted my stomach.Disappointment or anticipation?I couldn’t tell, which was alarming.
“Exactly.” I hoped I sounded confident and not like I was trying to reassure myself. “There’s no way he would do that.”
“The sessions continue. I’ve already spoken to Frank. Vincent’s absence doesn’t change anything for you and Asher,” Lavinia said, seemingly oblivious or indifferent to my squeak of surprise.
Vincent was leaving for Paris tomorrow with the Boss’s permission. Frank was probably suspicious of his conveniently timed family emergency, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. My brother was officially off the hook for our trainings.
I’d requested a meeting with Lavinia that morning to see if his departure would affect my summer obligations.
Apparently, it didn’t.
“I don’t understand.” A swirl of anxiety pooled in my gut. “The goal of the sessions was for Vincent and Asher to learn how to work together. If Vincent isn’t here, then…”
“That wasoneof the goals. However, they still need to train like normal athletes. We’ve already signed a contract withBlackcastle, and they’ve paid through the summer. There’s no use undoing all of that simply because of one departure.”
“Right.” I forced a smile.Damn contracts.
“That means you’ll be working with Asher one-on-one.” Lavinia peered at me over the rim of her glasses. “Will that be a problem?”
“I—no. Of course not.”
Personal sessions with Asher. That was fine.
Totally. Fine.
Did Vincent know? He’d left our dinner convinced that the Boss would cut the training program short. If he didn’t, he was going to be livid when he found out, but he couldn’t do anything about it at this point. There was no way our father would let him come back until the nurse was out of his house.
Like it or not, I was stuck with Asher for the rest of the summer.
“Is there something else you’d like to discuss?” Lavinia asked pointedly.
Mynoreached the tip of my tongue just as my eyes rested on the photo behind Lavinia. It featured the cast after last year’s staff showcase. Every instructor was present except for me and Barden, who’d been on his honeymoon.
Which role are you auditioning for? I’d love to see you onstage.
A shard of ice pierced my gut.
I’d lied about being too busy for the showcase. The truth was, Imissedbeing onstage. I missed the glide of smooth wood beneath my feet, the pulse-pounding crescendos during pivotal scenes, the feeling of transcendence when it was just me and the music.
When I was onstage, I didn’t overthink; I simply moved.
But my desire to perform again didn’t outweigh my fears. I hadn’t truly danced onstage in five years. If I tried, would I aggravate old wounds or, worse, fail altogether?
Scarlett DuBois. She was the next big star; now look at her. She can’t even audition for a school showcase.
The shard of ice slid deeper behind my rib cage.