circumstance.
"I'll handle it." Sharma nods nervously as if she's convincing herself that she can take on the tortured task of crushing the dreams of almost half of the people in this room.
"Libby, a moment?" Alec pulls himself to his feet, his long, elegant fingers buttoning his suit jacket. "In the hallway."
I take a step forward hoping that my knees don't buckle. "Of course," I mutter under my breath knowing that every other woman in the room is now viewing me as the one that Alec Hughes has chosen to be his fuck buddy for the season. It may be what he wants but in my mind it's a role that I have no intention of playing.
***
I rehearse over and over again in my head what I'm going to say the moment he's done talking on the phone. I've been standing next to him now for five minutes. I'm fidgeting back and forth from foot-to-foot while I watch other dancers and singers exit the rehearsal hall as they make a mad dash towards the elevator. Some are holding in sobs, others are seething with anger and some just don’t seem to give a damn.
"Libby?" Alec's hand is on my waist. "We need to discuss something."
"I'm not interested," I say evenly. "I'm flattered but I'm not interested."
A flash of a smile passes over his full lips. "What is it that you're not interested in?"
I run my index finger over the length of my nose. It's a nervous gesture that I've done since I can remember. "I'm not interested in being that girl."
"That girl?" He leans back against the wall, tucking his hands in the pockets of his pants. "What girl is that?"
I bite on the edge of my fingernail as I hunt for the right words. "The girl you choose."
"I choose a girl?" The suggestion of amusement in his luxurious deep tone isn't lost on me. "Tell me what I choose her for."
I'm blushing. I know that I am. It's not because I'm a virgin or my sexual experiences have been lacking. I'm blushing because he's asking me to repeat back all the sordid rumors I've heard about him. "You know what you choose her for." My intention isn't for my eyebrows to bounce around the way they are. I'm beginning to think I'm going to quash any interest he may have had in me just by the way I'm acting during this awkward conversation.
"You've heard things about me." The words leave his lips with a trail of assumption behind them. "I'd like to hear about that."
"There's nothing to tell," I lie. There's a hell of a lot to tell. I'm not one to spread gossip but when I'm sitting in a diner after rehearsals listening to other dancers talk about how he uses women, I'm not going to turn my head and ignore that.
"I'll fill in the blanks." He leans forward a touch. "You've heard that I select a young lady to be my companion for the season."
I nod. That's an elegant way to say he picks a fuck partner from the roster. "I've heard that."
"You think you're my pick for this season?" He cocks a brow.
My stomach instantly flip-flops within me. My heart starts pounding. "Yes," I whisper back.
"You're definitely intriguing." His finger jumps to my chin. "Before I make a final decision I need to know if you've slept with any of the men in the production."
I take a step back. The urgency to distance myself from him is overwhelming me. He's so comfortable asking me something incredibly intimate. "The answer is no even though it's none of your business. As I already said, I don't want to be that girl."
"You don't think you want to be that girl," he arrogantly corrects me.
"I don't want to be that girl." I find the words again and somehow they fall from my parched lips.
He adjusts the knot of his gray patterned tie as his eyes scan my face. "Don't be too quick to make a decision, Libby."
I stare past him to the weathered green and white wallpaper that covers the wall behind him. "I've already made up my mind." I can keep up the calm and collected demeanor for at least a few more minutes.
"Don't you think you should at least hear what I'm proposing?" he asks in an even, strong
"I'll handle it." Sharma nods nervously as if she's convincing herself that she can take on the tortured task of crushing the dreams of almost half of the people in this room.
"Libby, a moment?" Alec pulls himself to his feet, his long, elegant fingers buttoning his suit jacket. "In the hallway."
I take a step forward hoping that my knees don't buckle. "Of course," I mutter under my breath knowing that every other woman in the room is now viewing me as the one that Alec Hughes has chosen to be his fuck buddy for the season. It may be what he wants but in my mind it's a role that I have no intention of playing.
***
I rehearse over and over again in my head what I'm going to say the moment he's done talking on the phone. I've been standing next to him now for five minutes. I'm fidgeting back and forth from foot-to-foot while I watch other dancers and singers exit the rehearsal hall as they make a mad dash towards the elevator. Some are holding in sobs, others are seething with anger and some just don’t seem to give a damn.
"Libby?" Alec's hand is on my waist. "We need to discuss something."
"I'm not interested," I say evenly. "I'm flattered but I'm not interested."
A flash of a smile passes over his full lips. "What is it that you're not interested in?"
I run my index finger over the length of my nose. It's a nervous gesture that I've done since I can remember. "I'm not interested in being that girl."
"That girl?" He leans back against the wall, tucking his hands in the pockets of his pants. "What girl is that?"
I bite on the edge of my fingernail as I hunt for the right words. "The girl you choose."
"I choose a girl?" The suggestion of amusement in his luxurious deep tone isn't lost on me. "Tell me what I choose her for."
I'm blushing. I know that I am. It's not because I'm a virgin or my sexual experiences have been lacking. I'm blushing because he's asking me to repeat back all the sordid rumors I've heard about him. "You know what you choose her for." My intention isn't for my eyebrows to bounce around the way they are. I'm beginning to think I'm going to quash any interest he may have had in me just by the way I'm acting during this awkward conversation.
"You've heard things about me." The words leave his lips with a trail of assumption behind them. "I'd like to hear about that."
"There's nothing to tell," I lie. There's a hell of a lot to tell. I'm not one to spread gossip but when I'm sitting in a diner after rehearsals listening to other dancers talk about how he uses women, I'm not going to turn my head and ignore that.
"I'll fill in the blanks." He leans forward a touch. "You've heard that I select a young lady to be my companion for the season."
I nod. That's an elegant way to say he picks a fuck partner from the roster. "I've heard that."
"You think you're my pick for this season?" He cocks a brow.
My stomach instantly flip-flops within me. My heart starts pounding. "Yes," I whisper back.
"You're definitely intriguing." His finger jumps to my chin. "Before I make a final decision I need to know if you've slept with any of the men in the production."
I take a step back. The urgency to distance myself from him is overwhelming me. He's so comfortable asking me something incredibly intimate. "The answer is no even though it's none of your business. As I already said, I don't want to be that girl."
"You don't think you want to be that girl," he arrogantly corrects me.
"I don't want to be that girl." I find the words again and somehow they fall from my parched lips.
He adjusts the knot of his gray patterned tie as his eyes scan my face. "Don't be too quick to make a decision, Libby."
I stare past him to the weathered green and white wallpaper that covers the wall behind him. "I've already made up my mind." I can keep up the calm and collected demeanor for at least a few more minutes.
"Don't you think you should at least hear what I'm proposing?" he asks in an even, strong
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