“Good evening, Alyssa,” he answered, making me melt with his voice as usual. I swore he could talk me into doing anything—almost anything.
“Hey, um...”
“Yes?”
God, I loved his f**king voice... He hadn’t said much of anything and I was already turned on.
“You called so I could listen to you breathe?” He had to be smiling.
“I did, actually.” I rolled my eyes. “Are you enjoying my sounds?”
“I’d enjoy them a lot better if you were underneath me.”
I blushed. “Um...”
“The case, Alyssa.” He laughed. “Tell me about your latest case.”
“Right, um...” I cleared my throat. “Long story short: My client carried a gun into a federal bank and forgot to turn on the safety lock. Someone bumped into him and his hands instinctively went to his pocket, and the gun fired—shooting him in the leg.”
“Since when do you practice criminal law? I thought your specialty was corporate.”
Shit... “It is, it is. I’m taking this case for a friend, pro bono.”
“Hmmm. Well, your friend is looking at two to five years in a federal prison if he doesn’t have any priors. What part of this do you need help with exactly?”
“The pleading part. He didn’t hurt anyone but himself.”
“Did he have a license to carry?”
>“That’s not the point. I’ve told you over and over how important this audition is to me. I called and reminded you last night, and it would be really nice if my parents showed up and believed in me for a change.”
“Aubrey...” She sighed. “I do believe in you. I always have, but I’m in the middle of a huge hearing right now and you know that because it’s all over the papers. You also know that becoming a professional ballerina is not a stable career choice, and as much as I would love to leave my high-paying client to watch you tiptoe around on stage—”
“It’s called dancing en pointe.”
“Same thing,” she said. “Regardless, it’s just an audition. I’m sure your father and I won’t be the only parents who couldn’t make it today. Once you graduate from college and get into law school, you’ll see ballet for what it really is—a hobby, and you’ll be grateful that we pushed you into double majoring.”
“Ballet is my dream, mother.”
“It’s a phase, and you’re way past the prime age for becoming a professional last time I checked. Remember how you suddenly up and quit at sixteen? You’ll quit again, and it’ll be for the best. As a matter of fact—”
I hung up.
I didn’t want to listen to another one of her dream-killing speeches, and it angered me that she’d called ballet a “phase” when I’d been dancing since I was six years old. When she and my dad had poured countless dollars into private classes, costumes, and competitions.
The only reason why I’d “quit” at sixteen was because I’d broken my foot and couldn’t audition for any of the dance schools anymore. And the only reason I started to show the faintest interest in law was because I couldn’t do much outside of my rehab sessions except read.
My heart had always belonged in pointe slippers, and that fact would never change.
“Aubrey Everhart?” A man suddenly called my name from the theater door. “Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re next to take the stage. Got about five minutes.”
“Be right there...” I stuffed my bag into a locker. Before I could close it, my phone rang.
Knowing it was my mother calling to offer a half-assed apology, I tried my best not to scream. “Please spare me your apologies.” I immediately picked up. “They don’t mean anything to me anymore.”