Her limp hand rose against swiftly, forming a fist and cramming against her mouth.
She wouldn’t be the only one affected by this. Some part of her had truly believed she would succeed in the end. Subconsciously, she’d convinced herself of it. That the amount of work and time and diligence she put into becoming a working dancer would pay off. It hadn’t, though. It hadn’t. And now she couldn’t stay in New York, not even one more day. Couldn’t afford it and couldn’t be with the man with whom she’d fallen in love.
Oh God, she’d been very shortsighted about how this moment would feel when it became imminent. Dread and anxiety turned her skin clammy, the ground seeming to loom high, higher, up near her knees. What was Leo going to say? If his whole opinion of her changed in the blink of an eye, could she even blame him?
No.
No, but she couldn’t back away from this. She couldn’t just leave for Wisconsin in the morning without telling him everything. In fact, she couldn’t go another second without exposing herself as a pathetic wannabe dancer, instead of a successful one, as badly as it was going to hurt to be a failure in his eyes. Whatever the consequences, she would face them. He deserved to know. At least she could sleep at night knowing she’d never used him. That whether she succeeded or not, her abilities would be the deciding factor.
At the moment, that reminder provided precious little comfort.
With her stomach tied in knots, Reese left the bathroom, her legs weighing a thousand pounds apiece. Slowly, she wove her way through the restaurant crowd, her mouth growing drier by the second, palms coated in sweat.
When she’d almost reached the table, she noticed Leo was speaking to a man, though she couldn’t see who it was, because his back was turned. Leo spotted her approaching and tapped the man on the shoulder. The newcomer turned…
And her world turned sluggish, void of sound.
Bernard Bexley.
Leo’s father was there, scrutinizing her curiously, his countenance as shrewd as she’d always imagined. Looking nothing like his son. A falcon beside a bear. Reese’s feet stopped moving, keeping her paused in the middle of the restaurant until Leo called her name, frowning with concern. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t run, even if her fight or flight instincts were blaring in the back of her head. With a stomach full of bees, she started moving again, forcing a polite smile on to her face.
“Reese, this is my father. I saw him walking past the bar and ran outside to grab him.” Oh God, he looked so sweetly nervous about them meeting. Why couldn’t this just be a normal introduction between father and girlfriend? Leo deserved that. “Dad, this is Reese,” he finished.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Reese said, sounding strangled.
Bernard studied her long enough to make it uncomfortable. “Yes, I know who she is.” His voice was rich, demanded attention. “You’re the girl who missed her audition with me.”
Time seemed to stand still.
Jackie and Tad were suspended in animation.
Reese couldn’t breathe, her skull closing in on itself.
Leo laughed. “You have her mistaken for someone else, Dad.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, I spent a year whittling down entrants to my annual contest. By the time I choose my winners, I know their weaknesses, eye color, their competition background. A little over two weeks ago, this girl right here, Reese Stratton, if I’m not mistaken, missed her audition.”
“A little over two weeks ago,” Leo repeated, his gaze ticking to Reese. “Is he…is that right? Did you?”
She pushed the words past stiff lips. “Can we talk somewhere, please?”
The realization that his father was telling the truth washed over Leo’s face and he rocked back on his heels, saying nothing for a moment. “I guess we better,” he rasped, stalking past Reese to the door, leaving her to follow in his wake.
Reese followed on shaky legs, finding Leo outside on the sidewalk. “Leo…”
“You clearly weren’t in my bakery by coincidence.” His stare was penetrating, not a hint of its usual warmth. “Start there.”
His harshness almost buckled her knees, but she forced her chin to rise.
You had this coming. Suck it up.
Reese nodded, folding her hand in front of her waist. “I missed the audition of a lifetime. I was desperate. And…and I’d read an article about Bernard Bexley having a son. It mentioned the Cookie Jar in the piece and I thought maybe you’d help me get a second chance…” All at once the wind left her. “Oh God, this all sounds so terrible saying it out loud.”
“Maybe because it is, Reese.” He closed his eyes, as if bracing. A scattering of seconds blew by. “Is this real? Did you even…like me? Or has this all been for show?”