“Do you want me to go on about ROI and contracts and copyright law? Or are you looking for another tale like last night’s?”
Was she? Not consciously, though she did like the idea. No. That would be too distracting. She shrugged. “I figure it’s an empire; it couldn’t have been easy to build.”
“It wasn’t, but it helps that I love my work. Yes, I mean thesex stuff.”
“Don’t make fun.” The childish retort slipped out before she could stop it.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. But I promise it’s like any other job. We work long hours when we have to, and the stories about out-of-control orgies are mostly to impress investors.”
She couldn’t stop her laugh. “Mostly?”
“It’s business, Suzie-Q. Someone’s always looking to fuck as many people as they can at once without getting in trouble.”
So cynical. She shook her head in amusement. “I don’t have a counter for that.”
“People rarely do. Tell me—what kind of work are you in, that has you sneaking in rehearsal during lunch and at early hours?”
“I intern at my dad’s commercial real-estate firm. It’s only temporary, until I graduate and land some dance work.”
“I didn’t realize you were in school. You don’t strike me as a business-major kind of person, but I don’t know you that well.”
“I’m majoring in fine arts. Online classes. He’s got me fetching coffee, running errands—stuff like that.” It was decent work. Kept her busy. Kept him happy.
A frown ghosted across Andrew’s face. “But intern implies he doesn’t pay you.”
“Well, no. I get free room and board.” She chuckled, the same way she always did when explaining work, but this time it didn’t feel right. A whisper of anger snaked through her. Who was Andrew, to cast judgment on her? She swallowed the errant thought. He hadn’t, and she was overreacting. “It’s kind of weak, not having my own money, but the job market is slim for someone without qualifications, and it’s only temporary.” Now she was over-explaining herself. She stopped short of revealing Dad’s teasing threats to kick her out if she got a dancing job.
Andrew’s phone rang, and relief tickled her senses at the reprieve. “I had to turn mine off…” she said in a playful tone.
He glanced at the screen for half a second. “And I should have done the same, but I have to get this. It goes off after. I promise.” Into the receiver, he said, “Hey, sis.”
Then— “I don’t really have an opening in my schedule today.” Irritation leaked into his words, and Susan turned her attention to the side window, trying not to eavesdrop but not having much of a choice. “I know it’s a weekend, but I have plans. I’m half here on vacation… Of course I want to see both of you.” He sighed, and Susan looked back in time to see him glance at her. He gave her a weak smile. “I’m either going to bring a friend, or won’t be there for a couple of hours. She’s a business associate… Why do you care what she does for a living?”
The conversation continued for a few more minutes, with pleasantries that left a strain in Andrew’s voice. By the time he hung up, Susan was all but squirming with curiosity and embarrassment. Was sis a nickname, like he seemed to use with everyone, or was it his actual sister? Did whoever it was think Susan was in porn? And why didn’t the assumption bother Susan? “Do we need to reschedule?” she asked.
“I’d rather not.” He pocketed his phone, then rubbed his face. “I want to see my sister and nephew while I’m here, but their schedule isn’t matching mine. If it were anyone else, I’d tell them to fuck off. I promised you my time today. I can either take you back home, or you can go with me. Which would be one of those incredibly awkward, serves-my-sister-right-for-last-minute-planning things, and could be a blast if you’re into that kind of stuff. And we can pick this up after.”
He cared about his family—he was doing one better than Mercy.
That wasn’t fair of Susan. Her sister might have walked away from the people who loved her, out of some misdirected sense of spite, but she was back in their lives now. “I’ll go, if you’re sure your sister doesn’t mind.”
*
Andrew was surprised the tension bled from his neck when Susan didn’t ask to go home. “Kandace will love you.” Probably. “Though she’s convinced you’re a porn star, and she’s going to be floored the first time you say oh my heck. She doesn’t believe I know respectable people.”
“I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second.” He was struggling to wrap his head around Susan’s thought process. She had the innocence thing going on, and her hesitation made it clear some topics caught her off guard, but she didn’t seem to mind them. But there was a break-point, rather than a smooth transition, where bashful became bold. It confounded and fascinated him.
He wanted to go back to their conversation, but she started to close off when he asked about her getting paid for work deterred him. Most of what he knew about their father came from Mercy’s perspective, and Andrew had little more than contempt for the man. It wasn’t his place to shove that onto Susan if she felt differently. She asked for his help with public performances, not yanking off the rose-colored glasses she saw the world through. “Why dancing?” That should be a good topic.
From the way she sat up straighter and the glow on her face he caught out of the corner of his eye, that was the right question. “I love losing myself in the rhythm. Molding my body to the emotions of the composer and orchestra. Gliding with their passions draws me in. It’s hard to describe.”
“I disagree. You did a fantastic job. It’s a difficult industry to break into, you know. Jobs are seasonal. Pay is sporadic, and frequently not of the living-wage level.”
“Jeez. You sound like my dad.”
“I hope not.” He winced at the words. The last thing he wanted was to be compared to a man who cared more about his family’s image in the church pews than their needs and potential.