The Billionaire's Ballet: A Contemporary Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance (Friends with Benefits) (17 page)

“What happened?”

Quinn raked his hair. “She and I had a thing.”

I took a step away from him. “A thing?”

He reached out for me. “It wasn’t a big thing. Just a thing.”

“You slept with her?” My voice was raspy with shock.

“He wasn’t right for her,” Quinn insisted.

“And you were?” So this is what my mother knew. The story that wasn’t hers to tell. The heat rose in me then. I couldn’t take this. Not one more minute of this.

I jerked open the door to the room and dashed into the foyer. None of this was right. None of it.

I ran straight for the front entrance, and for once Adams wasn’t instantly there. I pulled on the heavy door and ran out into the rain.

I didn’t want any of this. Not at all.

I would not go inside these walls again.

Chapter 22

Mom didn’t say a word when I ran past her straight to my room.

I stripped out of the wet jeans and tank. I jerked my hair from the half-wrecked braids and threw on a robe.

Only when I was in a hot shower did I start to calm down.

God.

Bennett’s fiancée. And Quinn.

Had Bennett really seduced me just to get back at his brother?

What sort of people were they?

I shampooed my hair. There was only one solution to what was going on here.

I had to leave.

Mom was doing fine. She’d come see me when
La Traviata
came out.

I could use some free days in the city. Visit the new World Trade Center. Eat a hot dog in Central Park and walk it off.

Yes, this was the answer.

I would go back to New York.

I shut off the spray. Despite my resolve, the idea of not seeing Bennett again threatened to wreck me. But nothing that had happened between us was true. It was just a revenge plot, and I was the murder weapon. Bennett saw that Quinn wanted me. He took me instead.

God.

“Mom?” I called out, wrapping myself up in a white robe.

She was at the door when I opened it. “You okay, Juliet?” Concern etched her face. I swallowed at the poppy scarf, wondering if Bennett had bought it for her too. At least that part of him, the things he did before I came, were real.

“Can you look up flights to New York? See if there is anything I can do today?”

“Today? You’re leaving today?”

I could see she thought I was overreacting. “I have to get out of here, Mom,” I said. “I have to.”

She pulled me into her and rested my head on her shoulder. “I take it things did not go well with Bennett,” she said.

I shook my head against her neck.

“You sure running is the way to go? Sometimes facing our problems is the best.”

I shook my head again.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “I’ll get you a ticket for today, and then I’ll come out in a week or two. We can still spend some of your break together.”

I pulled back. “You feeling up to traveling?”

“I’m getting better every day right now. I think I’ll be up for it.”

“Okay,” I said.

She patted my hand. “I’ll get it all arranged.”

Mom headed back to the living room. I turned to the half-fogged mirror. My hair was in chaotic wet strands. I set to combing it out.

I could still feel Bennett on my body, his hands, his mouth. I gripped the comb. This was wrong. All of it. I had to get away from both brothers. I was free of Quinn now. I would find someone. It would work. I had shaken loose from my childhood.

I’d done what I’d set out to do.

Once my hair was straight and up in a tight knot at my neck, I headed to my room. Traveling clothes. Something simple. Jeans and a summer sweater. It would be cooler in New York than here.

Mom popped her head in as I dragged my bags onto my bed. “It’s not pretty, getting in after midnight, and has a four-hour layover in Atlanta, but I have you a flight in about three hours. We have to drive to Austin for it.”

I glanced at the clock. We needed to leave within the hour to get to Austin and have time for me to check in. “That’s fine, Mom. Thank you.”

“I’ll pull together what you have out here,” she said. “Give me a bag.”

I passed her the smaller suitcase and turned to start filling the big one. I saw the picture of me and Quinn and forced myself not to tear it into pieces. That was the past. A good past. But past.

I took it out and stuck it in the corner of my mirror instead. It could stay here with the rest of my history.

Then I concentrated on the work, making sure I didn’t miss anything important.

The front door opened and closed. I heard the murmur of voices. I paused. Who was here? My heart leaped that it might be Bennett.

But when a shadow crossed my doorway, it wasn’t him.

Quinn.

I clutched the edge of my suitcase, my knees shaking. “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“I couldn’t leave things like that,” he said. “I just couldn’t.”

He moved closer. He had showered and dressed, like he was going for a ride, in jeans and a light T-shirt. Maybe he thought he could get me out on the trail. Fat chance.

“We already said everything.” I picked up the last shirt and set it on the stack in the suitcase. “I get you now. I get you in a way I never did before.”

Quinn paused by the end of the bed. “Are you leaving? I thought we could take a ride together now that the rain has stopped. Figure this out.”

“No,” I said. “I have to go.”

His face looked stricken. “I know going with Bennett’s fiancée was a dick move. I know it. I always want what’s in front of me, whoever she is. But that was before you came back.”

I didn’t buy it. I shoved another leotard in the bag. “Quinn, you’re hopeless. I came here to figure out if I could live without you, and I’ve figured it out. I can.”

He took a step toward me, but I didn’t turn. Another dance outfit went into the suitcase.

“Juliet. If I lose you, it will be the greatest heartache of my life. The only heartache I’ve ever known.”

I held a pale pink skirt in my hands, so similar to the ones I wore as a little girl, first trying out my dance. I wasn’t her anymore. I understood things now. I set the wisp of fabric on top of the clothes in the bag and turned to him.

“Quinn, a friend can’t break your heart.”

“But you’re breaking mine.”

I closed the top of the suitcase. I wasn’t angry with Quinn. He couldn’t see for himself what was going on.

“You’re still a kid, Quinn, just with older playmates,” I said. “I saw you with all those other girls. And you treated me differently. It just wasn’t there.”

“But that’s it,” he insisted. “You’re different from all those other girls.”

I hesitated. Maybe I hadn’t been patient. Maybe it would have come with time. But he’d been so interested before he left. The niggle of doubt I’d felt the day he came back became a rush.

“Is this because of Margie?”

He stood up straight. “What about Margie?”

“You acted one way before you left. And another when you came back.”

His mouth opened and closed but he didn’t say anything.

And this told me what I needed to know. He couldn’t deny it. She had been important to him before. And they’d rekindled something.

“I have to go. I honestly hope you figure things out.” I dragged the bag off the mattress and headed out of the room.

Mom stood at the front door with my other bag. “You okay?” she asked.

“I have to be,” I said. I took the other bag from her.

“I called Adams to help,” she said. “It’s a long way to walk with bags.”

“I did it when I got here,” I said. “I can do it now.”

She kissed my forehead. “Then let’s go.” She took one more glance back at my bedroom and shook her head.

We left her little house, heading down the wet path to the stable where staff members parked their cars.

As we walked along the wall, I glanced up at the mansion. I wasn’t sure exactly where Bennett’s rooms were, but I assumed they were near Quinn’s. He was in there somewhere.

Mom saw me looking. “You sure you don’t want to go talk to him before you go?” she asked.

“I’ve had enough dramatic confrontations for one day,” I told her.

We loaded my bags in her backseat.

As we drove around the walls to the circle drive out front, I tried not to look at the estate. I wanted to keep my eyes focused straight ahead. To my future. Not my past. If I’d learned anything in this time at home, it was this:

My past was done.

Chapter 23

Two months later

I loved this interpretation of the final dance of
La Traviata
, and not just because I got to be in it.

The story was very centered on the main characters, the courtesan Violetta and her lover Alfredo. Many of the scenes had only two or three characters, including the famous ending.

But our dance company put a new spin on that last scene. Instead of focusing on the tragic lovers, our version included all the characters — the meddling father, the rival lover, the maid, and me as Flora. We all appeared as spirits to anguish over the tragic conclusion.

Each of us had our own guilt and grief to express. As Violetta’s friend, I would circle her lifeless body near the end.
 

It was a good role. I turned and spun, bits of white floating around me from the ethereal costume made of scarves.

Then I held my final position. The dancer who played Alfredo lifted the limp Violetta up onto his shoulder, attempting to recreate their happy lovers’ dance of just a moment ago, then collapsed to the ground, knowing it was over.

The lights went down and the applause began.

I tried not to breathe too hard, maintaining my pose until the curtain was completely closed. Then we scurried off the stage so the chorus dancers could go out for the first bow.

Mom was here for the opening. She had arrived during the last few days of my break and stayed on through rehearsals. She took a leave of absence from the estate. We holed up in my tiny room in Chelsea like school chums. She wandered the practice rooms during the day, getting permission from the trainers to warm up with the other dancers, and had a ball watching everything from fittings to choreography sessions.

It was good for her, and I could tell she was learning a lot, turning over in her mind what might be next for her in her own career. She seemed to sense I was reluctant to return to the estate, so maybe it was time for her to move on as well.

The chorus parted and I ran forward with some of the other minor characters for our ovation. Then we stepped aside for the baron and the father. Then Violetta and Alfredo.

The production would run here for several weeks, then move to Paris for several more.

I was happy. It was a good life.

The curtain came down for the last time and we all hurried offstage to the dressing room. There was nothing so glamorous as individual suites for the dancers. All of us, including Amy, who played the lead role, were dumped into a large room lined with lighted mirrors and chairs, bursting with costume racks and discarded shoes and ribbons.

In the hallway leading to the dressing area, friends and family of the dancers began to filter in from the performance hall. I looked around for my mother. She had connived her way into front-row seats through the cute boy at the box office even though the opening had been sold out for some time. There were always reserves that were let go for patrons who didn’t end up attending.

I pushed through the throng. If I didn’t spot her quickly, I would just head to the dressing room to get this costume put away and find her afterward. I dodged a tall stout man and peered down the rest of the hall.

And saw him.

Bennett.

My heart stopped. I sucked in a breath. He was here.

A woman was with him, beautiful with dark brown hair. He guided her by the elbow. My stomach turned over. How dare he bring someone with him to my show?

My evening was destroyed. I seethed with jealousy and anger.

Sonbitch Bennett indeed. I wanted to punch him.

Then I spotted Mom. She was with him!

I spun on my heel to get away as fast as I could. But Mom must have seen me. “Juliet! Wait!” she called out.

I was stuck.

I turned and waited for them to arrive. As they approached, I could see the woman was older than I thought.

I forced myself not to look at Bennett. I was already flashing to that last day on his sofa. My face blazed hot.

Mom took my hand. “Juliet, your performance was simply perfection.” She gestured to the couple. “I’m sure you remember Bennett. This is his mother, Carrie.”

My jaw dropped. “His mother?”

The woman extended a hand. “Lovely to meet you. I understand you had a hand in convincing Bennett to contact me. I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“I—I did?” I stammered. “You do?”

I couldn’t look at Bennett. In the two months since I left the Claremont estate, my thoughts had turned to him often. Sometimes I pined. Most times I burned with anger and embarrassment that I’d been played so hard. A token in his revenge plot.

“I do,” Carrie said. “We’ve had two lovely visits, one in Portland, where I live now, and then this one here in New York.” She glanced around the halls, which were starting to quiet down as people met up and moved on with their evenings. “It’s very exciting back here.” She gazed down at me. “You were very lovely to watch. I can see why Bennett is taken with you.”

Now I couldn’t help but snap my head around to look at him. He stood stock still, hard as granite, like that night at the suite when he hadn’t wanted to talk about his mother. He nodded almost imperceptibly at me.

 
“We’d love to take you to dinner,” Carrie said. “Right, Bennett?”

She looked over at him, but he had barely moved, frozen in place.

He didn’t want that. He had no more use for me.

I sent a pleading look at my mother. She could not do this!

Mom totally got it. “Juliet is looking a little more peaked than usual from this performance and she has a matinée tomorrow,” she said. “Can we take a rain check on that?”

“Of course,” Carrie said. “I really did love the show.”