I eyed him. “Most parents think that of their child.”
He shook his head, taking another step toward me. I held my ground, though even if I wanted to move back, there wasn’t a lot of room for me to maneuver.
The irritation I had been feeling earlier was back.
“Yes, but don’t you think the earlier they start, the better they’ll be?”
“Not exactly. How good do you think they’ll be at two? Four is early enough. I didn’t start dancing until I was four, and my own mother was a professional ballerina.”
I moved off to the side, careful to avoid touching him, before walking around him. “I’m sorry, Jensen,” I said in my most professional voice. “But she’s too young.”
Though I wished I didn’t have to say no. Not for Jensen, but for Elodie. Just by looking at her, I knew she loved this. She had the same spark in her eyes that I had often seen in the other dancers. The same spark my mom had once said I had when I was little.
I could still clearly remember the day my mom deemed I was old enough to be in one of her classes, and she had taken me shopping for my first skirted leotard.
My dad still had it back at his home.
Elodie reminded me a lot of my younger self. When ballet was my passion. When I lived, breathed, and dreamed of ballet.
“I’ll pay you.”
I paused in my step before turning around, meeting determined gray eyes. The Jensen I had seen earlier was a father. Now I was seeing Jensen, the businessman. The CEO of a multimillion-dollar corporation.
“My classes aren’t free. You would have to pay me anyway had I accepted,” I replied, playing stupid to his blatant bribe, and stalling for more time so I could think.
His lips tilted up in a small smirk, looking too much like the devil for my liking. “Emilia,” he said, as if he could tell what I was doing. He leaned against the wall, adopting an uncaring pose, his arms crossed casually over his chest, bringing my eyes back to his impressive pecs.
My throat felt dry all of a sudden.
“I know this business must have caused some damage to your bank account.”
I crossed my arms over my own chest, trying to emulate him. Though I didn’t think I succeeded, and all I felt was heat, especially when his eyes moved to my chest and stayed there for a beat. I resisted the urge to cover myself up even more.
I hated and loved the way I felt under his gaze.
“I have money for this business,” I said.
Something dark shifted in his eyes before he looked up at me. “Yes, but I doubt it is enough,” he said quietly. I didn’t know how he knew that, but I suspect that was just a guess on his part. I didn’t say anything to that, and his smile widened.
“Thirty thousand,” he said.
My heart dropped at the number. Fuck.
“T-thirty thousand? Just to get Elodie into some ballet class that she probably won’t even remember when she’s older?”
He shook his head. “No. Thirty thousand to get her into your class.”
I frowned. “I don’t teach.”
“I’m sure you can make an exception for this one student.”
“You want me to teach her myself?”
“I want her to be the only student in your class. I want you.” He paused, his eyes gleaming.
My heart pounded in my chest. I knew he meant he wanted me to be her teacher; still, those words were doing funny things to my insides.
“For what I’m paying, I expect nothing less than for my daughter to be trained by the best. And Emilia? You’re it.”