Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Reading my mind, Laney shrugged.
“I have to come,” she said, a little too careless. “I have to come because I’ve got junk in the trunk, and it’s gotta be toned and firm, I can’t have it jiggling everywhere.”
Realization dawned in my brain. Of course. That’s what I love about my girl. Because Laney’s big, real big for a dancer, but it looks fan-fucking-tastic. This was a female who was athletic with luscious, thick thighs, strong calves and a toned rump. Laney works hard for her body, and I appreciated it all the more.
“I know, sweet thing,” I grunted, eyeing that figure hungrily. The brunette was dressed in a pink sports bra and tiny shorts that showed off her physique. Shit, it did more than that. The female was flaunting it right in front of my face, making me ravenous in public.
But there were words to say, and I was determined to get them out.
“You look good, baby girl,” I grunted. “The work at the gym’s paid off. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. In fact, have you thought about putting on more weight? Like twenty pounds or so?”
Laney shook her head, smiling at me exasperatedly.
“Thorn, are you crazy? Of course not. I can’t put on twenty pounds, they’d kick me out of the troupe. I’m already big enough as is, Miss Lane is always telling me to eat less, or at least switch to nutrition shakes instead of meals. I can’t, Thorn, it’s impossible.”
I frowned. What the fuck? Nutrition shakes, like Ensure for old people? That shit tasted disgusting as fuck, and smelled like garbage most times.
“I’m gonna talk with Miss Lane,” I ground out. “No dancer should be on meal replacement drinks, especially not one as young as you.”
Laney colored, speaking quickly.
“No it’s not that,” she corrected, stumbling over the words. “Miss Lane was making a suggestion, it’s not a requirement.”
But I could tell that the female was just saying that. Miss Lane had made derogatory comments about my girl’s body and I was gonna set that bitch straight. I was gonna put her in her place, one of the benefits of being CEO.
“Naw,” I drawled. “That chick is off the reservation, and I’m gonna talk to her about it,” I threw out casually. “Along with some other things.”
Laney colored.
“Like my solo?” she asked. “Like my solo last night?”
My chest practically expanded with pride.
“Absolutely your solo,” I ground out. “You were fucking amazing honey, absolutely dazzling as the Red Queen.”
I wasn’t just saying that. My girl is a brilliant dancer and Laney colored.
“It was amazing wasn’t it?” she whispered. “I never felt so moved by the music, the melody took over my limbs, I was on another plane. Thank you for giving me the chance, Thorn,” she colored. “I know you put in a good word for me.”
I grinned.
“It wasn’t just a good word, honey, you deserved it,” I said. “You absolutely deserved it.”
And what I was saying was true. Because Laney was up there, she was definitely part of the elite with her expressiveness, the detail with which she performed every move, the obvious delight she took from dance. I’d greased the wheels, sure, but the girl had done it herself. After all, you can put a dog on stage, but you can’t make it perform unless it’s got that special something within.
So I grinned again.
“It’s all you, sweetheart,” I ground out. “All you.”
Laney colored.
“But I know you had something to do with it.”
My huge shoulders shrugged.
“So what? That’s what the boss does. We find underutilized talent and make suggestions. Something wrong with that?” my eyebrow quirked.
Laney bit her lip.
“No, not at all, I just don’t want the other dancers to talk, that’s all,” she said softly.
Aw fuck. The other dancers. One of the things I hate about ballet troupes is that it’s like a fucking coop of chickens sometimes. With this much estrogen and this much competition, the females can be vicious, biting each other with sharp beaks, pecking each other’s eyes out.
“Why, someone say something to you?” I said casually, voice smooth. Of course, I was gonna pound that fucker into the ground if Laney had been treated badly. Or more accurately, I was gonna fire them, their dreams of stardom in the big city gone kaput.
“No, not at all,” said Laney slowly. “It’s just a feeling I have. Call it girl sense.”
An eyebrow raised.
“Girl sense? What’s that?”
The brunette shrugged slim shoulders again, big boobs going up and down, distracting as fuck.
“It’s just a feeling,” she said in a low voice. “But I don’t want to say anything because there’s nothing concrete. Can we talk about something else Thorn?” she murmured. “Forget I said anything. Show me what you like to do in the gym, let’s get back to you,” she smiled persuasively.
I could tell the brunette wanted to change the subject, it was only too obvious. And I get it. When you have nothing but a chill down your spine, it’s hard to say exactly what’s wrong. But as a billionaire CEO, I’ve learned to trust my instincts and that fucking chill is often the first sign that shit is about to hit the fan. So my little girl wasn’t wrong, she wasn’t a space case or some batshit crazy insane woman. Laney was probably right on the money, she just didn’t have the experience to know it yet.