Chapter Twenty-One
Alex hadn’t expected the rude awakening that awaited him early the next morning. He didn’t expect his doorbell to ring before nine a.m., and he didn’t expect Edward’s angry face when he answered.
He also didn’t expect the slight hangover from drinking the rest of Lance’s Scotch.
“You’re supposed to stay in the city.” Edward narrowed his eyes.
“Good morning to you too, Ed.” Alex yawned, running a hand through his hair.
Edward held up the morning newspaper, unfolding it so Alex could see the entire spread. “Front page of the Chronicle,” he spat.
It was a few paparazzi-style shots of Alex and Scarlet. Someone had snapped a grainy photo of them kissing outside Scarlet’s house after the gala.
THE BALLERINA AND THE BODYGUARD
Horrible headline. Alex frowned at the bold letters. “How is this front page news?” He raised an eyebrow.
Edward shoved the paper at him. “Maybe because it covers everything—even Istanbul.”
Alex felt a lump form in his throat as he scanned the article. It didn’t exactly paint him or Edward in a good light.
“‘Suspicion mounts on feuding ballet companies as more dancers are harmed,’” Alex read out loud. “‘But the real story is behind the torrid affair of North Pointe’s new prima, Scarlet Rush, and her bodyguard, Alexander Strong. In a mere two weeks since Rush’s attempted kidnapping, Strong has taken over security detail at the company, and taken up personal detail with Rush.’”
Alex let out a sigh, motioning for Edward to come in.
“I hope you’re happy,” Edward said.
Alex walked into his living room, offering Edward a seat. “I didn’t do anything,” he insisted.
“Then why did Scarlet quit last night?” Edward spat.
“Quit?” Alex repeated.
Edward stood stiffly in the middle of the living room, refusing to sit. He gestured to the paper. “Keep reading,” he ordered.
“‘The whirlwind romance is sparking a lot of questions,’” Alex read. “‘And in a strange twist of fate, Strong was hiding a very troubled past directly involving Rush’s father.’”
Alex’s eyes narrowed at the article as it went on to state the Istanbul attack was the result of American diplomats marginalizing the rising threats in Syria and surrounding countries now engaged in full conflict years later.
“The guy is using our story as some sort of political statement,” Alex said. “Then insinuating I lied to keep my past a secret. Like he even cares about North Pointe.”
“That’s the media for you.” Edward folded his arms across his chest. “He also mentions that I’m using Scarlet as a platform to launch a political career. Total crap.”
“And Scarlet left over this?” Alex asked.
Edward shrugged. “Nora Brevic called me an hour ago to tell me Scarlet got upset and left with her mother late last night.”
“I don’t…” Alex blinked. “I just…”
“You just what?” Edward’s tone got more impatient.
“Someone obviously got to her.” Alex frowned. “Lance said this reporter has been slinking around. He must have spoken to her. She was fine when I dropped her off.”
“I’m glad you have total control of the situation,” Edward scoffed.
“Ed.” Alex narrowed his eyes. “I’m not the best guy to piss off after you drag me into an already screwed up situation and expect miracles.”
Edward kept his sour expression, but took a deep breath. “You know why I called you.”
“Do I?” Alex let out a pained laugh. “Because if I’m not mistaken, you’re the only one who knew the full situation when you called me, and you didn’t have to fucking call me!”
Edward clenched his jaw, dropping his arms to his sides. “I didn’t think it would get this blown out of proportion.”
Alex waved a hand. “That’s the media for you.” His face was hot with anger. What should have been a low-key protection job was turning into a prophetic nightmare. Alex wanted to think Edward was angry because he cared that his prima was emotionally crushed by circumstance—not because his ballet was in turmoil.
Edward’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being unreasonable, but everything is closing in on me, and I’m powerless. I don’t want to lose Scarlet to a series of misunderstandings.”
“I don’t either.” Alex took a step toward Edward. “So, tell me what you want me to do.”
“Go get her,” Edward said. “She’s with her parents in Lafayette. Tell her how you feel. Tell her the truth.”
Alex realized Edward was giving his odd blessing to pursue a relationship with Scarlet. It might already be too late, but Alex wanted to try.
“I’ll fix it,” Alex insisted, giving the newspaper back to Edward. “I’m going to inform Lance what’s going on—give Scarlet some time to cool down. Get that flashy lawyer of yours to get control of this mess.”
Edward nodded, retreating to the door. “Please bring her back.”
Alex watched the man let himself out. “I’ll do my best,” he responded.
****
Scarlet slept until mid-afternoon. Her dreams were vivid with dark shadows and an empty stage. She tossed and turned until her mind finally let her rest in the early morning. She woke with a start, thinking she was late for rehearsal—then she remembered where she was.
Opening night was still a few months away. Maybe she didn’t want to quit.
Even if she knew the bizarre road her life would take with Alex, she still wanted to be a ballet dancer.
It wasn’t about running. It was about distance. She needed to distance herself from the situation and get a better grip on reality. Things had happened too fast, and she wasn’t ready. She had even voiced that concern to Edward on that first day of her new life. He had been overly confident, and she wished he’d told her about Alex then.
She would reach out later. For now, she wanted peace and a shower.
As she turned on the shower, her thoughts drifted to Alex. She didn’t know if she’d fled because she was heeding Isobelle’s warnings, or because she was hurt over Alex’s past. She couldn’t just store her feelings away like he seemed to do.
Scarlet wiped the steam from the mirror, and looked at her reflection.
What happened? How did I fall so hard? Did Lena send him?
She couldn’t find an answer, and didn’t want to. She was going crazy … just like her ballet counterpart.
Scarlet stepped into the shower, letting the hot needles of the water distract her from her troubled thoughts. She wasn’t sure if she believed in fate; she’d never had a reason. Why would the universe take Lena and give her Alex? Nothing made sense.
When she was finished, she ventured downstairs to where her mother was tending to her herb garden on the windowsill of her sun-filled kitchen.
“Good afternoon.” Sarit smiled. “I hope you don’t mind me letting you sleep.”
“I think I needed it.” Scarlet sat down on a stool at the island and grabbed an apple from a bowl of fruit. She watched her mother pick herbs and place them on a paper towel, humming quietly to herself. Outside, her father watered the vegetable beds.
“Dad’s really gotten that garden going,” Scarlet commented. “I can’t even keep a cactus alive.”
“He keeps busy,” Sarit said.
Scarlet looked around the kitchen. “Did you get the morning paper?”
Sarit didn’t turn around. “Your father hid it. He said you shouldn’t look.”
“Great,” she muttered. “I bet that reporter went to town.”
“Why do you care?” her mother said. Scarlet frowned as her mother walked to the island, smelling some fresh rosemary. “I don’t like that you’re willing to walk away from your dreams over some revealing news story.”
She read it. And she won’t let me see it.
“I’m not walking away from my dreams,” Scarlet defended herself. “I’m just … putting on the brakes. I’ll go back when they figure out who’s behind my kidnapping. I’ll go back to the corps. Edward will have to find another prima.”
“He chose you because you’re the best dancer,” her mother said.
“He chose me because he knew Dad.”
She didn’t mean for her words to come out as harshly as they did, but the truth was something she couldn’t ignore. She might have been a good dancer—maybe even great—but that didn’t stop those nagging doubts.
“You sound angry,” Sarit noted. “So unlike you.”
Scarlet took a bite from the apple instead of responding.
“What’s really going on?” Sarit asked. “Is it Alex? I couldn’t help but overhear what you told your father.”
Scarlet swallowed and placed the apple down on the counter. She dropped her head into her hands and let out a sigh of frustration. “God.” Her voice was muffled. “I’m so stupid.”
“Oh, Udiya,” Sarit scolded. “It’s not stupidity. It’s your heart.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking.” Scarlet lifted her head. “All this stuff going on, and all I can focus on is him. He kissed me, and it just felt so … right.”
“I know the feeling.” Sarit smiled.
“It doesn’t matter.” Scarlet shook her head. “He lied to me.”
“Did he?” her mother asked. “Or did he just omit things from you?”
Scarlet clenched her fists. “That’s even worse.”
Sarit eyed her daughter as sorted through her herbs. “Sounds like he’s shielding his feelings for good reason. No one wants to talk about a painful past—and I’m rather sure it was more painful for him than you.”
Scarlet picked at the apple stem. Sarit had a knack for putting things into perspective. She let out an aggravated sigh.
“I’ve never seen you troubled over a man,” Sarit went on. “You date, you have fun, but you’ve never kept anyone around for long. You’ve been so focused on ballet … your one true love.”
“Dating has never been a priority.” Scarlet shrugged. “My career was—is—too important. Funny how when my career sails to the top is when I panic and run from it and the man.”
“Sounds like you’re falling in love with him.” Sarit smirked.
“Yes, but I’ve only known him for two weeks,” Scarlet said uncertainly.
Sarit lifted up the herbs and placed them in a basket by the sink. “Falling in love doesn’t hold time. It’s called falling for a reason.”
Scarlet smiled at her mother. “Always the hopeless romantic.”
Silence settled in the kitchen, and Scarlet heard the birds outside as they fought for their place on the bird feeder hanging from the apple tree by the window.
“I’m going to the market,” Sarit said. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” Scarlet said. “I think I’m going to go relax for a bit, then maybe go dust off the barre in Nana’s studio. I need to decide how long I’m staying. I might just move in there for the time being.”
“Well, it’s empty now,” Sarit said. “Your cousin was the last one to stay.”
Their attention shifted as Mikael walked in the back door, holding a few tomatoes. “She’s alive,” he said, chuckling at his daughter.
“Almost,” Scarlet responded.
Mikael placed the tomatoes into a basket and turned to his daughter. “So, what did you decide?”
“Absolutely nothing.” She smiled. “What did the paper say?”
Mikael cast a sideways glance at her. “Nothing good. Let’s try to stay positive.”
Scarlet let out a groan. “This is so out of hand.”
“Focus on you,” Sarit said. “Take steps to better your situation without worrying about others.”
Scarlet exhaled, twisting on her bar stool. “I suppose I should call Edward North and tell him I need a break.”
Her anxiety surged at the thought of calling Edward. If he was upset with her, she’d get upset back. She didn’t want to deal with confronting him about the reporter, or why he hired Alex, or the fact that he knew the danger his dancers were in, and continued to act like it wasn’t a big deal.
A knock at the front door interrupted her thoughts. Her attention snapped to the window. Alex’s black SUV was parked out on the street.
No. Scarlet took in a sharp breath. She leaned on the window to see outside. Alex was dressed down in jeans and a navy polo. His focus was on the door as he knocked again.
Scarlet figured Nora must have called Edward and told him where she was, but she didn’t expect him to just show up on her doorstep.
Slightly panicked, Scarlet backed away from the window and looked over at her father.
“Should I answer?” he asked.
Scarlet shook her head and fled the room.