Page 5 of Dearest Protector

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Page 5 of Dearest Protector

I swiped the droplets from my face immediately.

I didn’t have time to cry just because I was exhausted from a sleepless night and scared shitless.

I’ve avoided homelessness for ten months. I’ll think of something. Eventually.

I’d lost my job the night before, and it wasn’t going to be easy to find another one quickly.

Everything…absolutely everything…had been a nightmare since the accident that had ended my ballet career.

I’d moved back home to Fort Myers, hoping it would be easier to find a job and survive in a place with a lower cost of living than New York City.

I’d quickly discovered that finding a jobanywherewithout the skills to do anything other than dance was almost impossible.

Now I’d lost the one job I’d been able to secure here in Florida.

My landlord had already slapped an eviction notice on my door days before the mortifying event last night that had left me jobless.

I probably could have paid my rent in time to avoid eviction—had I not lost my job the night before.

Teaching yoga to a small class of beginners once a week was not going to pay my bills.

My small fridge in this crappy studio apartment was empty, but really, eating was thelastof my worries. I’d gone hungry for so long I was almost used to being continually in that state.

I yanked on an oversized T-shirt, a pair of leggings, and then pulled on the socks I never went without anymore.

I’d sustained a severe injury to my foot that had ended my dancing career, and it wasn’t pretty. I rarely bared my nasty looking foot. It was scarred from the initial injuries and from the multiple surgeries that had been necessary to get me walking on that foot again.

I let out a nervous breath as I got to my feet, avoiding the mirror like I usually did because I didn’t want to see the desperate woman I’d become.

I’d reallywantedto fit into the swanky birthday ball so badly last night, and I’d done everything I could to make that happen, despite the fact that IknewI hadn’t belonged there.

For the first time since my accident, I’d worn a dress with heels, even though it had been somewhat painful on my foot. The occasion had called for a cocktail dress, so I’d torn an old dress apart and restyled it myself. The matching pumps had been low compared to the heels I’d worn before the accident. I’d donned thicker, black tights to hide my unsightly foot from the influential guests at the party. Still, it had been a bold move on my part considering that I never wentanywherewithout a pair of thick socks on my feet anymore.

My best friend, Katie, had a new boyfriend, someone really important to her, and I’d wanted to be dressed appropriately to meet him and his family for the first time.

God, if only I hadn’t gone to that damn birthday ball in the first place!

Last night is over. Forget about it.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done considering all that had happened at that exclusive event.

Iespeciallydidn’t want to tell my best friend about the scene on the patio last night.

Okay, so I had finally gotten the chance to meet Ian Blackwood and his mom, but the rest of the night had gone downhill fast after that.

Stop procrastinating, Ariel. Katie is here. Tell her everything. She’ll understand.

Katie had arrived at my apartment unannounced, and I was still so mortified about last night’s events that I hadn’t known what to say to her.

I’d simply let my best friend in earlier, and then given her my laptop so she could finally look at the photos I’d taken in New York. Since she’d been badgering me for months about seeing my pictures of New York, Katie had snatched the laptop immediately. Once she’d started looking at the pictures, I’d retreated to the bathroom with the sad excuse of needing a morning shower.

Actually, what I’dreallyneeded was a quick escape and to pull myself together after a sleepless night.

I had no idea what she knew about the incident the night before, but I was so tired of feeling like a total loser.

Most likely, Katie had shown up early this morning to ask more questions about the bruises she’d seen on my arms the night before.

I’d blown her off and made another excuse, just like I always did.




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