Page 38 of Fool Me Twice

I bit my bottom lip. This was a bad, bad idea. Being that close to Rodrigo would surely make me come undone, make me consider quitting my job in Baltimore in order to move to Rio and be closer to him.

So then why was I taking his hand and allowing him to guide me to standing? Why was I not fighting when his palm settled into the small of my back? Why was I so easily leaning into his chest?

“How is this?” Rodrigo asked.

I was shuffling around the floor, leaning on him with my injured leg sticking out. I probably looked like an idiot, but the fact that Rodrigo smelled just like he had eleven years ago activated something in my primal brain.

What if all of this was meant to be? The two of us were supposed to run into each other over a decade after everything fell apart?

As soon as I had the thought, I knew it wasn’t right. A quick apology didn’t change things. In fact, I didn’t even know who Rodrigo was anymore. Was I really thinking about rearranging my life for him?

I drew back. “I think I’ll wait until I can truly dance again.”

He tried to hide his disappointment, but it flashed across his face before he could stuff it away. “Of course.”

Carefully, he helped me back to my chair, just in time for our dinner to arrive.

“I suppose there’s nothing else I can say to make you stay longer,” Rodrigo said, “but next time you’re in town, I would love to do this again.”

“That would be nice,” I said automatically, simply because that was the thing you were supposed to say.

But would there be a next time? I had no clue when I would return to Rio, if I ever would. Quite possibly, Rodrigo and I would never see each other again.

And perhaps that was for the best. Just like in the old days, he had a way of working me, bit by bit, until I was nothing but putty in his hands.

I picked up my silverware. “That would be nice,” I repeated.

CHAPTER11

GEORGIA

Iheld my gaze with the teleprompter, waiting for the cut signal. As soon as it was given, I reached for my crutches and pulled myself to standing.

“Nice job.” Maddie joined me as the soundman removed my mic. “Watching from home, I never would have guessed you have a broken leg.”

I laughed. “Glad to hear I don’t read as injured on camera.”

She grinned. “No, but you do read as a little distracted.”

The smile fell off my face. Hearing this from my best friend was helpful, but hearing it from my producer was disappointing.

I started hobbling for my dressing room, not keen to have this conversation in front of the crew. Maddie kept pace with me–not that it was hard, since I moved at the speed of a tortoise.

I waited until we were behind closed doors to speak. “Did I really look distracted?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” She took a seat on the yellow couch. “What’s going on? You’ve seemed scattered since you got back from the trip.” A dark look crossed her face. “Was the accident that bad? I can recommend a therapist if you need to talk to someone. She’s my therapist, but still. I don’t think that’s a conflict of interest.”

“No, it’s not the accident. Thank God I’m not having nightmares about that.” I settled in the makeup chair and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked like such a different person at work, makeup caked on and my hair sprayed to within an inch of its life.

Compare that to how I looked in Rio—hair loose and windswept, wearing tanks and jeans, not a speck of makeup on during the day—and most people probably wouldn’t have recognized me.

“What is it, then?” Maddie watched me in the mirror. “Did something else happen there?” She gasped. “Did you meet a guy?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. On the flight back home, I’d decided to put Rodrigo permanently in the past. That meant no contacting him. No thinking about him. And no talking about him. Not even with my closest friend.

So far, I’d done good with two out of three.

“Why aren’t you telling me?” Maddie slapped the couch’s arm with each word, oblivious to my growing bad mood.